When the poor father saw his daughter and the other women crying, he could not bear to remain in her chambers, and with his terrible anguish he left. Then the princess sat on the bed and said:
"Come, my faithful maidens, and help me undress, for there will be time enough to cry."
And she prepared her body in the most comely way she could, and said:
"I am the infanta who hoped to rule over the entire empire of Greece. It is my duty to move everyone here to grief and compassion for the death of the virtuous and blessed knight, Tirant lo Blanc. Oh, my Tirant, out of grief for your death let our right hands wound our breasts and tear at our faces so that our misery will be so much greater, for you were our shield and the shield of the whole empire. Oh sword of virtue, great was the sorrow that was prepared for us! And don't think, Tirant, that I have wiped you from my memory: As long as I am alive I will weep for your death. Now, my dear maidens, help me to cry this short time that is left of my life, for I cannot remain with you long."
The crying and wailing was so great that it made the entire city resound. When they saw the princess nearly more dead than alive, they cursed fortune which had brought them such anguish. The doctors came and said she had all the signs of a dying woman: She felt such grief for Tirant's death that blood was coming from her mouth.
The grieving empress came into the chamber, knowing that her daughter was not well. When she saw her in that state she suffered such a shock that she could not speak. When she had recovered, she said:
"Oh, my daughter! Is this the joy and happiness I hoped to have from you? Is this the wedding your father and I and all the people hoped to be consoled by? Everywhere I turn I see nothing but grief and sorrow!
I see the poor emperor, lying on the floor; I see the ladies and maidens, their hair unkempt, their skin covered with blood, their breasts uncovered and scratched, crying throughout the palace, revealing their grief to everyone. I see the knights and grandees, all in mourning, all lamenting, twisting their hands, tearing the hair from their head. What a bitter day, so filled with sadness! I see all the orders of friars coming with pain in their voices, and not one of them can sing. Tell me, what kind of celebration is this for everyone to run from it? Scarcely anyone can talk without a grieving face. Oh, sad is the mother who bears such a daughter! I beg you, my daughter, be happy and put an end to all this sadness. This way you will give consolation to your old and grieving father, and your sad, unfortunate mother who has raised you so delicately."
And she could say no more, such was the grief that held her.
"How can Your Excellency tell me, my lady, to find consolation and rejoice if I have lost such a knight who was my husband and lord, and had no equal in the world? Have my protector, my father and lord, come so that he can see my death and my end, and so that part of his daughter will be left for him."