he asked in a rough voice . ` My wedding shift , my lord . ' ` You are going to be married , then ? ' ` Yes , my lord , by your leave . ' For at that time no peasant could marry without the leave of his master . ' I will give you leave on one condition . Do you see those tall nettles that grow on the tombs in the churchyard ? Go and gather them , and spin them into two fine shifts . One shall be your bridal shift , and the other shall be my shroud . For you shall be married the day that I am laid in my grave . ' And the Count turned away with a mocking laugh . Renelde trembled . Never in all Locquignol had such a thing been heard of as the spinning of nettles . And besides , the Count seemed made of iron and was very proud of his strength , often boasting that he should live to be a hundred . Every evening , when his work was done , Guilbert came to visit his future bride . This evening he came as usual , and Renelde told him what Burchard had said . ` Would you like me to watch for the Wolf , and split his skull with a blow from my axe ? ' ` No , ' replied Renelde , ` there must be no blood on my bridal bouquet . And then we must not hurt the Count . Remember how good the Countess was to my mother . '
An old , old woman now spoke : she was the mother of XXXXX 's grandmother , and was more than ninety years old .
Burchard Count Countess Guilbert Locquignol Renelde Wolf evening nettles shroud