It chanced one afternoon, while the duke was with his syren, that Alfred was walking under the window of the duchess's chamber, thinking of the miseries of this world; when he heard her calling feebly to her maids, crying, "Help, help, I am dying." And they, being in a far chamber, and not hearing, Alfred climbed by the help of the vine into her chamber; and raising her in his arms, he said, "Pardon, dear lady, this intrusion to thy couch. What help will do thee good?" She knowing him to be so greatly her friend, and having a feeling for all his kindnesses, was satisfied; and said, "Oh! Alfred, nothing can help me but only Heaven. I am dying—dying of grief. My heart is broken. Oh! my husband." And she fainted from weakness. Alfred saw she was dying, and he grew as weak as a child; his throat ached, and his tears flowed till her hair was wet. And she lifted up her eyes once more, and died.
Having kissed her forehead, and murmured over her, he got down again by the vine: and he took two swords, and went into the woods; dumb with despair, but withal most wroth. There he lay all night under the trees, staring upon the sky; and early in the morning he betook him to the castle, and waited till the
