which fortune
had set up between him and the daughter of Crocus seemed to him
insurmountable.

Although the fair Libussa knew perfectly well what answer to give to
the young man's question, she felt it very difficult to allow him to
depart so quickly. At sunrise she appointed a meeting with him in the
garden and said: "The veil of darkness still hangs before my eyes; to
know thy destiny wait till sunset." In the evening she said: "Wait
till sunrise:" on the following morning "Wait throughout this day," and
on the third, "Have patience till to-morrow." At last, on the fourth
day, she dismissed him, because she had no pretext for detaining him
any longer, without discovering her secret, and with kind words she
gave him this information: "It is not the will of the gods that thou
shouldst contend with a mighty one in the land; endurance is the lot of
the weaker. Go to thy father: be the consolation of his age, and
support him with the labour of thy industrious hand. Take from my herd
two white bulls as a present, and take this rod to guide them. When it
blooms and bears fruit the spirit of prophecy will rest upon thee."
The youth considered himself unworthy of the lovely maiden's presents,
and blushed to accept a gift without being able to return it. With
lips void of eloquence, but with a demeanour so much the more eloquent,
he took a sorrowful farewell, and found tied up by the gate a couple of
white bulls, as plump and shining as the divine bull of old, upon whose
sleek back the virgin Europa swam through the blue waves. Joyfully he
unloosened them, and drove them gently along. The road here seemed but
a few yards in length, so completely was his soul occupied with the
thoughts of the fair Libussa, and as he felt he never could share her
love, he vowed he would, at any rate, never love another as long as he
lived. The old knight was delighted at his son's return, and still
more delighted when he learned that the advice of the wise Crocus's
daughter so perfectly accorded with his own wishes. The youth being
destined by the gods to follow the calling of a husbandman, did not
delay to yoke his white bulls to the plough. The first attempt
succeeded according to his wishes; the bulls were so strong and so
spirited, that in one day they turned up more land than twelve oxen
would commonly have managed.

Duke Czech, who had conducted the first expedition of his people into
Bohemia, had died long ago, and his desce