"
Then he called for his black hunting-steed and held up his gloved hand
for his white falcon to come and alight upon his wrist, and off he
galloped to the hunt, of which he was passionately fond, and which
absorbed all the time that was not occupied with the cares of his
government.
But after a while, his counsellors insisted on being answered more
fully.
"Most dear prince," urged they, "only fancy what a dreadful thing it
would be if you should be taken from your loving people, and leave no
one in your place. What fighting, and confusion, and anarchy there
would be over your grave! All this could never happen, if you had a
sweet wife, who would bring you, from God, a noble son, to grow up to
be your successor."
The morning on which they urged this so strongly, Duke Walter stood on
the steps of his palace, in his hunting-suit of green velvet, with his
beautiful falcon perched on his wrist, while a page in waiting stood by
holding his horse. Suddenly he faced about, and looked full at his
advisers.
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