ing.

Meanwhile, he could not refrain from going as often as was possible to
converse with her whom he so greatly loved. But at last, when strength
failed him, he was constrained to keep his bed; yet he would not have
his sweetheart know of this, lest he should cast part of his grief on
her. And giving himself up to despair and sadness, he was no longer able
to eat, drink, sleep, or rest, so that it became impossible to recognise
him by reason of his leanness and strangely altered features.

Some one brought the news of this to his sweetheart's mother, who was
a lady full of charity, and who had, moreover, such a liking for the
gentleman, that if all the kinsfolk had been of the same opinion as
herself and her daughter, his merits would have been preferred to the
possessions of the other. But the kinsfolk on the father's side would
not hear of it. However, the lady went with her daughter to see the
unhappy gentleman, and found him more dead than alive. Perceiving that
the end of his life was at hand, he had that morning confessed and
received the Holy Sacrament, thinking to die without seeing anybody
more. But although he was at death's door, when he saw her who for him
was the resurrection and the life come in, he felt so strengthened that
he started up in bed.

"What motive," said he to the lady, "has inclined you to come and see
one who already has a foot in the grave, and of whose death you are
yourself the cause?"

"How is it possible," said the lady, "that the death of one whom we
like so well can be brought about by our fault? Tell me, I pray, why you
speak in this manner?"

"Madam," he replied, "I concealed my love for your daughter as long as I
was able; and my kinsfolk, in speaking of a marriage between myself
and her, made known more than I desired, since I have thereby had the
misfortune to lose all hope; not, indeed, in regard to my own pleasure,
but because I know that she will never have such fair treatment and so
much love from any other as she would have had from me. Her loss of
the best and most loving friend she has in the world causes me more
affliction than the loss of my own life, which I desired to preserve for
her sake only. But since it cannot in any wise be of service to her, the
loss of it is to me great gain."

Hearing these words, the lady and her daughter sought to comfort him.

"Take courage, my friend," said the mother. "I pledge you my word that,
if God gives you back your health