When they were young ladies they would admit no lover who could not prove his affections by the most perilous adventures and impossible enterprises. Such was the case with the famous Lady of Kynast.
She owned a large domain and on this domain a ruined old tower which stood on the summit of a steep, high rock, surrounded on all sides by a deep abyss.
Rich, young, and beautiful, eagerly sought for by a number of admirers, she did not think, in her desire to keep them from becoming too pressing, of undertaking an endless piece of embroidery like Penelope. She did not embroider; in fact, she looked with contempt, and almost with disgust, upon every kind of work that was done by women. She told her lovers that she was betrothed to Ky-nast—this was the name of the old tower—and that any one who thought of winning her good will, would first have to compete with her betrothed. To do this, nothing was required but to climb up the rock and the tower, and after having reached the battlements, to make a complete round, not on foot, however, and assisted by the hands and knees, but on horseback, without other assistance than the bridle.
The flock of lovers took flight instantly; only two remained. They were two brothers, bereft of reason by the strength of their passion.
After having cast lots, the first one attempted the task and at first he was successful. But that was all. He had no sooner reached the crenelated top of the old tower, unaccompanied by his less active courser, than he was seized with vertigo and fell instantly into the abyss.
The second brother, in his turn, climbed up to the top and actually succeeded in riding some length along the battlements; but soon his horse, feeling the stones slipping from under its hoofs, and the whole tower rocking under the weight, refused to go on. To return was as impossible as to proceed.
