"Oh, God! Where is Your justice? How is it that fire does not descend from heaven to turn that cruel, ungrateful Tirant into ashes? He was the first knight that I considered my master. I thought he would bring an end to all my troubles, and now I see everything turned around. Oh, who would ever have thought that words like these could come from the mouth of such a virtuous knight? What have I done to him, to make him want the deaths of my father and my mother and their miserable daughter? Oh, Tirant! What happened to the love we shared? What crime did I commit for you to think me vile and abominable? Did you really say that you love no lady or maiden unless it's for her wealth, and that you want to take my virginity by force? Oh, if I wanted to be cruel, before the sun came up your chamber would be full of blood; yours and the blood of all your men."
And she said no more. But hearing the call for matins, she added:
"Widow, let's go to bed, even though I'll get little sleep tonight with the great hate I have for Tirant—the one I used to love so much."
The Widow answered:
"My lady, I beg you, please. Don't say a word about this to anyone. Who knows what might happen?"
"Don't worry," said the princess. "I'll protect you."
When they were in their chamber, Stephanie saw them come in, and said:
"It looks to me, my lady, as though you've had a great deal of pleasure listening to the Widow—you've been with her so long. I'd like to know what you're thinking about."
The princess climbed into bed without answering, and began to cry bitterly. When the Widow had gone, Stephanie asked her why she was crying. The princess told her:
"Stephanie, let me be, and take care that this doesn't happen to you."