NOTHING daunted, the knight approached and put Guinevere’s conundrum. “I will answer” said the old crone “if you will do whatever I next ask of you.” The knight hastily agreed. “Every woman” she whispered “desires the mastery of her husband.”*

Back at Camelot, Queen Guinevere and her ladies-in-waiting were compelled to admit this was true. But the knight’s relief was short-lived, for the old crone added: “Now keep your bargain: do as I ask, and marry me”. And the knight was honour-bound to consent.

The wedding was understandably subdued, but the bride looked on the bright side. “Would you have a wife young and faithless,” she asked through the bed-curtains, “or a wife aged and true?” The knight sighed, “Choose for me, wise wife; what pleases you pleases me.”

“Have I the mastery?” cried she. “Then look again!” The knight anxiously lifted the drapes, and there within was a woman young and beautiful. He covered her in kisses, and they lived happily ever after.