At the stroke of midnight, he was near the hollow oak:
"Goatherd! goatherd! goatherd!"
Immediately, a lady appeared, young and beautiful as the day.
“Swineherd, I am the goatherd. Swineherd, you have done me a great service, and I intend to repay you. Swineherd, I know what you want. You want to kill the Fog Giant, the giant one hundred fathoms high. You want to hit him right in the middle of the forehead. You want to hit him in the diamond eye. Listen. As long as the Fog Giant watches, you will never, ever reach where you need to. But when he sleeps, it's another matter. I'll tell you where he goes to bed every night. Listen. Go and ask for your sword and your black veil from the priest, who hid it under the high altar of his church. This done, you will walk three days and three nights, always straight towards the noon. Then, you will be in the country of the low moor, very close to an old ruined castle. Hide, among the stones and the brush. Look, and wait. You will see the Fog Giant lie down full length on the moor and fall asleep, his face turned towards the stars. Just watch out. The Fog Giant is a light, light sleeper. Until midnight, play dead. So, slowly, very gently, take off your shoes, draw your sword, move forward, move forward, holding your breath. Then hit the Fog Giant in the eye. Stick your arm in it up to the elbow, and tear out the diamond eye. The Fog Giant will be dead, and it will go away like smoke. Swineherd, you have done me a great service. I paid you. We are even. Farewell. You will never, ever see me again."
The lady, beautiful as the day, returned to her hollow oak, and the king's son returned to the farm.
“Farewell, master. I'm going on a big trip."
"Swineherd, this is what I owe you. Let us part, good friends. Go, and may the Good Lord lead you. If you want to return here, you will always be well received."
"Thank you, Master. Keep that money. If I don't come back in seven months, count me dead. So, spend half of my earnings on alms, and the other on having masses said for me."
"Swineherd, I will do as you said."
"Thank you, master. Farewell."
Seven weeks later, the king's son entered the church, where his sword and black veil were still hidden under the high altar.
"Hello, priest. Give me back my sword and my black veil."
"Poor man, with pleasure. Here they are."
"Thank you, priest."
The king's son left again. For three days and three nights, he always walked straight towards the south. Then he arrived in the open moorland, very close to an old ruined castle. There he hid among the stones and brush, looked, and waited.
Finally, the Fog Giant arrived. He lay down full length on the open moor, his face turned towards the stars. He was a light, light sleeper. But the king's son was very quiet. Until midnight, he played dead. Then, gently, very gently, he took off his shoes and drew his sword. He advanced, he advanced, holding his breath.
Then, the sword was in the Fog Giant’s eye. The king's son thrust his arm into it up to the elbow and tore out the diamond eye.
The Mist Giant was dead. He went away like smoke.
Then the king's son covered his face with the black veil and set out for his father's castle.
“Hello, King."
"Hello, Veiled Man. What do you want from me?"
"King, I have killed the Fog Giant. Here is his diamond eye."
"Thank you, Veiled Man. You will be paid one hundred thousand pistoles for your service and the diamond."
"King, I don’t work for money. If these hundred thousand pistoles bother you, you must give them in alms."
"Veiled Man, you act and say like a man of great blood. Show your face."
"King, it’s true. I am a man of great blood. But I am commanded not to show my face."
"Veiled Man, as you wish. Your father is very happy to have a wise, strong, bold son like you. Mine went I don't know where. He's a scoundrel, not worth the rope to hang him with."
"King, I know your son. Do not be in a hurry to condemn him. He has long since stopped doing bad things, and he is trying to prove it."
"Veiled Man, I don’t believe you. If he ever comes back, it is I who undertake to recommend it to the executioner."
