feasting, no joy, but only gloom and heaviness, which, spreading itself
from the wretched Sir Ulric, infected all the court. Many a fair dame
pitied him sorely, and not a knight but thanked his gracious stars that
he did not stand in the like ill fortune.

After the wedding ceremonies, as Ulric sat alone in his chamber, very
heavy-hearted and sad, his aged bride entered and sat down hear him.
But he turned his back upon her, resolving that now she was his wife,
he would have no more speech with her.

While he sat thus inattentive, she began to speak with him, and in
spite of his indifference, Sir Ulric could but confess that her voice
was passing sweet, and her words full of wit and sense. In a long
discourse she painted to him the advantage of having a bride who from
very gratitude would always be most faithful and loving. She instanced
from history and song all those who by beauty had been betrayed, and by
youth had been led into folly. At last she said:--

"Now, my sweet lord, I pray thee tell me this. Would you rather I
should be as I am, and be to you a true and humble wife, wise in
judgment, subject in all things to your will, or young and foolish, and
apt to betray your counsels. Choose now betwixt the two."

Then the knight, who had listened in much wonder to the wisdom with
which she spoke, and had pondered over her words while speaking, could
not help being moved by the beauty of her conversation, which surpassed
the beauty of any woman's face which he had ever seen. Under this
spell he answered her:--

"Indeed I am content to choose you even as you are. Be as you will. A