“But the prince, my lady?”
“What of the prince?”
“He wishes at least to see thee and has been walking the hall the night through so distracted is he for love of thee.”
“Tell him I am sick.”
So they let her alone that day, but the next the woman came again. “My lady, the prince hath been pacing the walls all the night, and he saith he dieth for love of thee, and I would counsel thee, if thou wilt take my rede, not to delay; for like a madman he goeth between love and fear. Hark ye, he is even now without.”
“Then dress me and help me to the couch in the outer chamber and I will speak with him.”
So she laid her on the couch and the prince entered, and when he saw her, how pale she was after her terrible beating and long fast, he was abashed and came and knelt down by her. Then Torfrida put out her hand and he kissed it.
“What manner of prince or knight art thou that presseth thy suit even though the lady lie sick unto death? Is this the way of princes?”
Now the prince was young, if old in riotous living, and the sight of a noble and beautiful maiden had not lost its hold upon him, even though his fears for his own safety filled him.