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And it could not come out… if you look at it now… Too hot and reckless was the Duke, so he burned, figuratively speaking.

And Gaffaro had done well. Gisel is still in full bloom, and soon his grandson will be on the throne.

Only the old witch can’t go there. They called her a traitor. A traitor! Thank gods, not tarred and feathered, not executed, but simply kicked out. It would have been nice for her to be in the south: no winter, no dampness, and a house not like these shambles here.

…a single tear rolled down the wrinkled cheek of the slumbering old woman…

For a while she was able to settle down in Pranezh, near Kakhnitz, in the district of Martz. She collected herbs and cured the sick. She lived with a farmer who gave her a nice, bright room with windows overlooking the brook and the birches. She ate sweet: fresh milk, fresh butter, bread only from the oven. She went to take care of his cattle, in case of illness or a calf going wrong during calving. She taught his little daughter witchcraft wisdoms: not seriously – the little girl had no abilities, but to distinguish herbs and roots, not to take poisonous berries, and to understand when to wait for rain, yes.