'Wherefore,' said Perceval, 'seeing that the storm beats wildly without and there is room here for many?' 'For this reason,' said the lady, 'that I would not that so handsome and kindly a youth as you seem should suffer the doom which must light upon this my castle at dawn.' 'Tell me,' said Perceval, 'what is this castle, and what is the doom you speak of?' 'This castle is named the Castle of Weeds,' replied the lady, 'and the lands about it for many miles belonged to my husband, the Earl Mador. And he was a bold and very valiant man; and he slew Maelond, the eldest son of Domna, the great witch of Glaive, and ever thereafter things were not well with him. For she and her eight evil sisters laid a curse upon him. And that in spite of this, that he slew Maelond in fair fight, for all that he was a false and powerful wizard. And Domna came to my husband, when he was worn with a strange sickness, and as he lay on his deathbed. And she said she should revenge herself upon his daughter and mine, this maiden here, when she shall be full twice nine years of age. And she will be of that age ere dawn to-morrow morn, and at the hour will the fierce Domna and her fearful sisters come, and with tortures slay all that are herein, and take my dear daughter Angharad, and use her cruelly.' The maiden who had opened to Perceval was that daughter, and she laughed harshly as her mother spoke. 'Fear not for me, mother,' she cried. 'They will deck me in rich robes, and I shall not pine for fair raiment, as I have pined these ten years with thee.' The lady looked sadly upon her as she heard her words. 'I fear not, my daughter, that they will take thy life,' she said, 'but I dread this--that they will destroy thy soul!' And Angharad laughed and said: 'What matter, so it be that I live richly while I live!' 'Nay, nay,' said Perceval, and in his voice was a great scorn, 'it is evil to speak thus, and it belies your beauty, fair maiden. Rather a life of poverty than one of shamefulness and dishonour. Thus is it with all good knights and noble dames, and thus was it with our dear Lord.' Then turning to the lady, he said: 'Lady, I think these evil witches will not hurt thee. For the little help that I may give to thee, I will stay this night with thee.' After he had prayed at the altar in the ruined chapel of the castle, they led him to a bed in the hall, where he slept. And just before the break of day there came a dreadful outcry, with groans and shrieks and terrible screams and moanings, as if all the evil that could be done was being done upon poor wretches out in the dark.