Their children were ’Hermann, who became Landgraf; a daughter who married the Duke of Brabant; another, who, remaining in virginity, became a nun of Aldenburg, of which place she is Lady Abbess until this day.’
P. 94. ‘On the freezing stone.’ Cf. Lib. II. section 5. ’In the absence of her husband she used to lay aside her gay garments, conducted herself devoutly as a widow, and waited for the return of her beloved, passing her nights in watchings, genuflexions, prayers, and disciplines.’ And again, Lib. IV. section 3, just quoted.
P. 96. ‘The will of God.’ Cf. Lib. IV. section 6. ’The mother-in-law said to her daughter-in-law, “Be brave, my beloved daughter; nor be disturbed at that which hath happened by divine ordinance to thy husband, my son.” Whereto she answered boldly, “If my brother is captive, he can be freed by the help of God and our friends.” “He is dead,” quoth the other. Then she, clasping her hands upon her knees, “The world is dead to me, and all that is pleasant in the world.” Having said this, suddenly springing up with tears, she rushed swiftly through the whole length of the palace, and being entirely beside herself, would have run on to the world’s end, usque quaque, if a wall had not stopped her; and others coming up, led her away from the wall to which she had clung.
Ibid. ‘Yon lion’s rage.’ Cf. Lib. III. section 2. ’There was a certain lion in the court of the Prince; and it came to pass on a time that rising from his bed in the morning, and crossing the court dressed only in his gown and slippers, he met this lion loose and raging against him. He thereon threatened the beast with his raised fist, and rated it manfully, till laying aside its fierceness, it lay down at the knight’s feet, and fawned on him, wagging its tail.’ So Dietrich.
Pp. 99-100, 103-108. Cf. Lib. IV. section 7.
’Now shortly after the news of Lewis’s death, certain vassals of her late husband (with Henry, her brother-in-law) cast her out of the castle and of all her possessions. . . . She took refuge that night in a certain tavern, . . . and went at midnight to the matins of the “Minor Brothers.” . . . And when no one dare give her lodging, took refuge in the church. . . . And when her little ones were brought to her from the castle, amid most bitter frost, she knew not where to lay their heads. . . . She entered a priest’s house, and fed her family miserably enough, by pawning what she had. There was in that town an enemy of hers, having a roomy house. . . . Whither she entered at his bidding, and was forced to dwell with her whole family in a very narrow space, . . . her host and hostess heaped her with annoyances and spite. She therefore bade them farewell, saying, “I would willingly thank mankind if they would give me any reason for so doing.” So she returned to her former filthy cell.’