“The corporal works of mercy are seven,” gasped the hermit, raising himself on his arm.  “To feed the hungry and give the thirsty drink, to visit the sick, to redeem captives, to clothe the naked, to shelter the stranger and the houseless, to visit the widow and fatherless, and to bury the dead.”  Then even as he spoke the last words the hermit died.  And the Neck clothed himself in his robe, and, not to delay in following the directions given to him, he buried the hermit with pious care, and planted flowers upon his grave.  After which he went forth into the world.

Now for three hundred years did the Neck go about doing acts of mercy and charity towards men.  And amongst the hungry, and the naked, and the sick, and the poor, and the captives, there were not a few who seemed to be weary of this life of many sorrows.  But when he had fed the hungry, and clothed the naked, and relieved the sick, and made the poor rich, and set the captive free, life was too dear to all of them to be given up.  Therefore he betook himself to the most miserable amongst men, and offering nothing but an easy death in a good cause, he hoped to find some aged and want-worn creature who would do him the kindness he desired.  But of those who must look forward to the fewest days and to the most misery there was not one but, like the fabled woodcutter, chose to trudge out to the end his miserable span.

So when three hundred years were past, the Neck’s heart failed him, and he said, “All this avails nothing.  Wherefore I will return to the lake, and there abide what shall befall.”  And this he accordingly did.

Now one evening there came a tempest down from the hills, and there was a sudden squall on the lake.  And a certain young man in a boat upon the lake was overtaken by the storm.  And as he struggled hard, and it seemed as if every moment must be his last, a young maid who was his sweetheart came down to the shore, and cried aloud in her agony, “Alas, that his young life should be cut short thus!”

“Trouble not thyself,” said the Neck; “this life is so short and so uncertain, that if he were rescued to-day he might be taken from thee to-morrow.  Only in eternity is love secure.  Wherefore be patient, and thou shalt soon follow him.”

“And who art thou that mockest my sorrow?” cried the maiden.

“One who has watched the passing misfortunes of many generations before thine,” replied the Neck.

And when the maiden looked, and saw one like a little old man wringing out his beard into the lake, she knew it was a Neck, and cried, “Now surely thou art a Neck, and they say, ’When Necks play, the winds wisht;’ wherefore I beg of thee to play upon thy harp, and it may be that the storm will lull, and my beloved will be saved.”

But the Neck answered, “It is not worth while.”

And when the maiden could not persuade him, she fell upon her face in bitter grief, and cried, “Oh, my Beloved!  Would god I could die for thee!”