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crowns if she revealed the lady’s name, and they did not cure her. But as she was coming back again very pensive, Andolocia in the garb of a physician met her and told her by her sadness, and coming from such ⟨a⟩ doctor’s house, he guessed she had some dear friend ⟨in⟩ danger of life, at some other great distress, which ⟨if⟩ she would accept of his service as a physician, ⟨he⟩ would not doubt, with the blessing of God, to ⟨cure⟩ her. The old woman believing him, greatly rejoiced that she had found him so opportunely; and telling him the whole matter, which he very well knew before, conveyed him to the princess' chamber ⟨privately⟩ at a back door, where he found her lying on her bed very much troubled: but she was comforted when ⟨he⟩ told her he was come to cure her, so he began ⟨to⟩ make application, and gave her so little of the apple among other drugs that they only wasted by degrees then telling her he wasted some costly drugs to make them come off by the roots, and so she should be more beautiful than ever. She arose and went to her coffee in the mean while, searching about the room he found his wishing hat carelessly thrown under the bed, for she knew not the virtue of it, but supposed some spirit had conveyed her backward and forward before. By this time she called him to receive his money, and he drawing her toward the window that he might, as ⟨he⟩ pretended, the better discern it, drew his hat from under his coat, clapped it on his head, grasped her in his arms, and away he flew with her, purse and all. ⟨In⟩ this airy voyage she was carried to Flanders, where presenting himself to her in his true shape, and with stern countenance reproached her with treachery and inconstancy, she fell on her knees and begged his pardon. Whereupon taking pity of her, and at her request he put her into a nunnery, giving the abbess two hundred crowns for her admittance, promising to fetch her
