him to his rival. Nevertheless, the mother and kinsfolk chose the
other suitor, because he was much richer; whereupon the poor gentleman,
knowing his sweetheart to be as little pleased as himself, gave way to
such sorrow, that by degrees, and without any other distemper, he became
greatly changed, seeming as though he had covered the comeliness of his
face with the mask of that death, to which hour by hour he was joyously
hastening.

Meanwhile, he could not refrain from going as often as was possible to
converse with her whom he so greatly loved. But at last, when strength
failed him, he was constrained to keep his bed; yet he would not have
his sweetheart know of this, lest he should cast part of his grief on
her. And giving himself up to despair and sadness, he was no longer able
to eat, drink, sleep, or rest, so that it became impossible to recognise
him by reason of his leanness and strangely altered features.

Some one brought the news of this to his sweetheart's mother, who was
a lady full of charity, and who had, moreover, such a liking for the
gentleman, that if all the kinsfolk had been of the same opinion as
herself and her daughter, his merits would have been preferred to the
possessions of the other. But the kinsfolk on the father's side would
not hear of it. However, the lady went with her daughter to see the
unhappy gentleman, and found him more dead than alive. Perceiving that
the end of his life was at hand, he had that morning confessed and
received the Holy Sacrament, thinking to die without seeing anybody
more. But although he was at death's door, when he saw her who for him
was the resurrection and the life come in, he felt so strengthened that
he started up in bed.

"What motive," said he to the lady, "has inclined you to come and see