But never, from any
two, did he receive a like answer. Some told him that women best loved
fine clothes; some that they loved rich living; some loved their
children best; others desired most to be loved; and some loved best to
be considered free from curiosity, which, since Eve, had been said to
be a woman's chief vice. But among all, no answers were alike, and at
each the knight's heart sank in despair, and he seemed as if he
followed and ignis fatuus which each day led him farther and farther
from the truth.
One day, as he rode through a pleasant wood, the knight alighted and
sat himself down under a tree to rest, and bewail his unhappy lot.
Sitting here, in a loud voice he accused his unfriendly stars that they
had brought him into so sad a state. While he spoke thus, he looked up
and beheld an old woman, wrapped in a heavy mantle, standing beside
him. Sir Ulric thought he had never seen so hideous a hag as she who
now stood gazing at him. She was wrinkled and toothless, and bent with
age.
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