"What go I now to tell you? I love you very truly, as you may easily perceive. I am come to require a favour at your hand. May God put it into your heart to lend your ear to my prayer in such a fashion that the matter may be brought to a right fair end."
"By my head," answered the old Prince, "you are so near to my heart that you are not likely to be refused aught that you may ask of me. Tell me, that I may grace you with the gift."
"Sire, thanks and thanks again, for I would do the same by you," returned the uncle of the knight, who no longer cared to hide his privy mind. "I am come to pray of you, fair sire, the hand of your virtuous maid in marriage. When we once were wed I would endow her with my wealth to the utmost of my power. You know well that I have no heir of my body, which troubles me sorely; and I will keep good faith with you herein, for I am he who loves you dearly. When your daughter is bestowed upon me, it would not be my care to separate father and child, nor to withdraw my wealth from yours, but all our substance should be as one, and we would enjoy together in common that which God has given us."
When he whose heart was crafty heard these words, he rejoiced greatly, and made reply--
"Sire, I will give her to you right gladly, for you are a loyal and an honourable man. I am more content that you have required her of me than if the strongest castle of these parts had been rendered to my hand. To none other in the world would I grant my maid so willingly as to you, for you are prudent and hardy, and many a time have I proved ere now that I may have confidence in your faith."
Then was promised and betrothed the damsel to a husband of whom she had little envy, for she was persuaded that another had asked her as his wife. When the maiden knew the truth thereof she was altogether amazed and sorrowful, and often she swore by St. Mary that never should she be wedded of him. Right heavy was she, and full of tears, and grievously she lamented her fate.
"Alas, unhappy wretch, for now I am dead. What foul treason has this old traitor done, for which he justly should be slain! How shamefully he has deceived that brave and courteous knight, whose honour is untouched by spot. By his wealth this aged, ancient man has bought me at a price. May God requite it to his bosom, for he purposes to commit a great folly, since the day we are wed he takes his mortal foe to wife. How may I endure that day! Alas, may God grant that I shall never see that hour, for too great is the anguish that I suffer because of this treason. If I were not fast in prison, right swiftly would I get quit of this trouble, but nought is there for me to do, since in no wise can I flee from this manor. So stay I must, and suffer as my father wills, but truly my pain is more than I can bear. Ah, God, what will become of me, and when shall he return who so foully is betrayed. If he but knew the trick his uncle has set on him, and how, too, I am taken in the snare, well I know that he would die of grief. Ah, if he but knew! Sure I am that he would ride with speed, and that soon these great woes would be as they had never been. Too sorely is my heart charged with sorrow, and better I love to die than to live. Alas, that this old man ever should cast his thought upon me, but none may deliver me now, for my father loves him because of his wealth. Fie on age! Fie upon riches! Never may bachelor wed with loving maid save he have money in his pouch. Cursed be the wealth which keeps me from him wherein I have my part, for truly my feet are caught in a golden net."