But, however kindly her husband might use her, the wicked love she bore
towards the Canon caused her to regard all rest as torment. And although
she was a very beautiful woman and her husband a man of excellent
constitution, vigorous and strong, she never had any children by him,
her heart being always seven leagues away from her body; this, however,
she concealed so well that it seemed to her husband that, like himself,
she had wholly forgotten the past.

But in her great wickedness she was not so minded; for, just when she
saw her husband most in love with her and having least suspicion, she
pretended to fall ill, and continued in this pretence until her husband
was in wondrous distress, and anxious to spare nought that might relieve
her.

However, she played her part so exceedingly well that he, and all in the
house, thought that she was sick unto death, and was growing by degrees
weaker and weaker. Finding that her husband was no less grieved than he
should have been glad, she begged of him that he would authorise her to
make her will, and this with tears he did.

Having power of bequest, although she had no children, she gave to her
husband what she could, craving at the same time his forgiveness for
her wrong-doing towards him. Then she sent for the priest, confessed
herself, and received the Holy Sacrament of the Altar with such
devoutness, that all wept to see so glorious an end.

When the evening was come, she begged her husband to send for the
extreme unction, saying that, as she was growing very weak, she was in
fear lest she might not live to receive it. Her husband in all haste