Quirina, perfectly cool, instead of piteously entreating the magician Halwyn to spare her [[88]]life, thanked him for allowing her a choice between the gallows and beheading, and made reply:
“Well, if I must decide, let me die under your bright sword. But first, remove your velvet cloak and fine silk doublet; for a young girl’s blood spurts out high in the air, and I should be sorry to have your fine clothes ruined by blood stains.”
Making haste to throw aside his velvet cloak, and then to unlace his silk coat, rich in gold decoration, Halwyn, while busy at this task, suddenly found his head off.
The maiden had deftly drawn his sword from its sheath, and with one skilful sweep of the blade, cut his neck through.
The magician’s head tumbled at her feet, but his tongue uttered these words, beseeching her:
“Take my hunting horn, and go into yonder grain field, and blow it; so that my servants and friends may know my fate.”
“Not I,” shouted the angry maiden. “I’ll follow no murderer’s counsel.”
“Well, then, please go under the gallows frame yonder. There you will find a pot of salve. Bring it, and anoint my red neck with it.”
“Never,” cried the maiden. “I shall follow no murderer’s counsel.”
She propped up the headless corpse, as if Halwyn [[89]]were still looking at the gallows, and enjoying the sight of the sixteen maidens’ bodies hung there.