Richilda could not long remain unoccupied; her morning dress set off her charms so well, that every one pressed to see the beautiful widow. Many knight-errants came to her court to try their fortune, and to seize on the rich prize; she found worshippers and admirers in crowds; and the court flatterers were again, as regards the praise of her beauty, in full swell. This pleased the vain lady uncommonly well; but because she wished to be convinced with greater certainty that the finger of time had diminished none of her charms, during fifteen years, she took counsel of her friend the mirror, with the usual speech. A shudder of horror passed over her, as she drew back the silken curtain, and her eyes fell on a strange form, beautiful as one of the graces, an angel in woman’s form, full of loveliness and sweetest innocence; but the form had no trace of resemblance to her. At first she found it difficult to believe that some misapprehension did not exist between the question and answer; but this last hope soon vanished, and vexation and bitter disappointment filled her heart.
The Lady Richilda, inconsolable at this discovery, formed a deadly hatred against the innocent beauty, who was in possession of the qualities she had arrogated to herself. She fixed the lovely Madonna face in her memory, and sought, with great eagerness, after its possessor. The discovery of this gave her little trouble, she learned very soon that, according to her description, her stepdaughter Blanche, so called from her complexion, had taken from her the prize of beauty. Satan immediately put it into her heart to destroy this charming plant, which would have been an ornament to the garden of Eden. The cruel one, with this design, called her court physician Sambul to her, gave him a preserved pomegranate, put fifteen gold pieces into his hand, and said, “Prepare this apple for me, so that one half may be quite harmless, but the other endued with deadly poison, so that whoever eats of it shall die in a few hours.” The Jew joyfully stroked his beard, put the gold into his pocket, and promised to do what the wicked woman desired. He took a pointed needle, made three little holes in the pomegranate, poured into it a certain liquid; and when the Countess had received the pomegranate, she mounted her horse, and trotted, with a few attendants, to her daughter Blanche, in the solitary castle where the maiden lived. She sent a messenger on before, to give notice that the Countess Richilda was advancing, to visit the maiden, and to weep with her over her father’s loss.
This message put the whole castle in an uproar. The fat duenna waddled up and down stairs, put all the brooms in motion, had everything hastily cleaned, cobwebs destroyed, the best chambers adorned, the kitchens prepared, scolded and urged the lazy servants to diligence and labour, bawled and commanded with a loud voice, like a pirate who perceives a merchantman in
