For some time the vain widow enjoyed this imaginary pleasure with secret content, till a strange knight came to her court, who, on the way, had called at the Countess Blanche’s castle, and had found her not in the grave, but at her toilet, and, struck with her beauty, had chosen her for the lady of his heart. Because he was very much attached to the young Countess of Brabant, and wished to fight for her in a tournament, (not knowing that the mother was jealous of the daughter,) heated with wine, at a feast, he threw his iron gauntlet on the table, and said, “Whoever does not acknowledge the Lady Blanche of the Lion as the most beautiful woman in Brabant shall take up this gauntlet as a token that he will break a lance with me the next day.” At this thoughtlessness of the Gascon, the whole court was highly scandalized; they secretly reproached him as Master Dunce and Sir Greatloaf. Richilda grew pale at the news that Blanche still lived; the challenge was a stab to her heart; yet she forced herself to a gracious smile, and approved of the match, hoping that the knights of her court would take up the gauntlet for her. But when no one stepped forward to espouse the quarrel—for the stranger had a bold look, and was very strongly made—her face became so sorrowful, that displeasure and affliction were easily read in it. This moved her faithful master of the horse so much, that he picked up the iron gauntlet. But when the combat began, the following day, the Gascon gained the victory, after a valiant course, and received knightly thanks from the Countess Richilda, who, however, was ready to die of indignation.
In the first place, she made the physician Sambul feel her displeasure. He was thrown into prison, put into chains, and, without farther examination, the severe woman had his venerable beard plucked out, hair by hair, and both ears cut off. After the first storm had blown over, and the cruel one remembered that her daughter Blanche would still triumph over her if she did not succeed in putting her to death by stratagem, (for the father’s will had deprived her of all power over the daughter,) she wrote a letter to the daughter, so tenderly, and rejoiced so like a mother at her recovery, that her heart seemed to have dictated every word. This letter she gave to her confidant, the nurse, to take to the imprisoned physician, with a small piece of paper, on which these words were written: “Shut up death and destruction in this letter for the hand that opens it. Take care not to deceive me the third time, as thou lovest thy life.” Sambul, the Jew, long deliberated on what he should do. At last the love of life prevailed, and he promised to obey. The Countess sent the letter by a messenger on horseback, who, on his arrival, was to make many grimaces, as if the letter contained wonderful things, and also he was not to say whence he came. The maiden, desirous to learn the contents, broke open the seal, read a few lines, and fell back on the sofa, shut her light blue eyes, and
