The birds were singing; but not for me.

All the creatures spoke a language of their own, with which I had nothing to do, and to which I cared not to find the key any more.
I walked listlessly along.

What distressed me most--more even than my own folly--was the perplexing question, How can beauty and ugliness dwell so near?
Even with her altered complexion and her face of dislike; disenchanted of the belief that clung around her; known for a living, walking sepulchre, faithless, deluding, traitorous; I felt notwithstanding all this, that she was beautiful.

Upon this I pondered with undiminished perplexity, though not without some gain.

Then I began to make surmises as to the mode of my deliverance; and concluded that some hero, wandering in search of adventure, had heard how the forest was infested; and, knowing it was useless to attack the evil thing in person, had assailed with his battle-axe the body in which he dwelt, and on which he was dependent for his power of mischief in the wood.