Old French Romances Part 4

On the morrow morn King Charles and his host came thither, and found the Lombards all armed, and there they joined battle, and a great mult.i.tude of dead there was on one side and the other, and because of this slaughter had the place to name Mortara.

Moreover, there died Amis and Amile, for even as G.o.d had joined them together by good accord in their life-days, so in their death they were not sundered. Withal many another doughty baron was slain with them. But Desir, together with his judges, and a great mult.i.tude of the Lombards, fled away and entered into Pavia; and King Charles followed after them, and besieged the city on all sides. Withal he sent into France for his wife and his children. But the holy Albins, bishop of Angier, and many other bishops and abbots gave counsel to the King and the Queen, that they should bury the dead and make there a church: and the said counsel pleased much the King, and there were made two churches, one by the commandment of Charles in honour of St.

Eusebius of Verceil, and the other by the commandment of the Queen in honour of St. Peter.

And the King did do bear thither two arks of stone, wherein were buried Amis and Amile; and Amile was borne into the Church of St.

Peter, and Amis into the Church of St. Eusebius; and the other corpses were buried here and there. But on the morrow's morn the body of Amile, and his coffin therewith, was found in the Church of St. Eusebius hard by the coffin of Amis his fellow.

Now hear ye of this marvellous fellowship which might not be sundered by death. This wonder wrought for them G.o.d, who had given such might to His disciples that they had power to move mountains and shift them. But because of this miracle the King and the Queen abode there thirty days, and did do the service of them that were slain, and worshipped the said churches with great gifts.

Meanwhile the host of Charles wrought for the taking of the city which they had besieged; and our Lord tormented them that were within in such wise that they were brought to nought by great feebleness and by mortalities. And after ten months from the time when the city was besieged, Charles took Desir, and all them who were with him, and laid the city and all the realm under his subjection. And King Desir and his wife they led into France.

But Saint Albins, who by that time had raised the dead to life, and given light to many blind folk, ordained clerks, priests, and deacons in the aforesaid Church of St. Eusebius, and commanded them that they should without ceasing guard and keep the bodies of those two fellows, AMIS and AMILE, who suffered death at the hands of Desir, King of Lombardy, on the fourth of the ides of October.

Reigning our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth without end with the Father and the Holy Ghost. AMEN.

THE TALE OF KING FLORUS AND THE FAIR JEHANE

Here telleth the tale of a king who had to name King Florus of Ausay.

A full good knight was he and a gentleman of high lineage. The said King Florus of Ausay took to wife the daughter of the Prince of Brabant, who was a woman very gentle, and of great line: and a right fair maid was she when he wedded her and dainty of body and fashion; and saith the tale that she was but of fifteen years when the King Florus took her, and he but of seventeen. A full good life they lived, as for young folk who loved together dearly: but King Florus might have no child of her, whereof he was sore grieving, and she also was exceeding heavy-hearted thereat. Much fair was this lady, and much she loved G.o.d and Holy Church, and therewith was so good almsgiver and so charitable that she fed and clad poor people and kissed their feet. And to mesel folk both carles and queans was she so kind and careful, that the Ho]y Ghost dwelt in her. Her Lord King Florus went often to tournays in Alemain and France, and in many other lands whereas he wotted of them, when he was without war: much good he expended thereon and much honour he gained thereby.

But now leaveth the tale to tell of him and taketh up the word of a knight who dwelt in the marches of Flanders and Hainault. This said knight was full valiant and hardy, and right trusty, and had to wife a full fair dame of whom he had a much fair daughter, who had to name Jehane and was then of the age of twelve years. Much word there was of this fair maiden; for in all the land was none so fair. Her mother spake often to her lord that he should give her in marriage; but he was so given up to the following of tournays, that he was nowise hot on the wedding of his daughter, and his wife ever admonished him thereof when he came home from his tournays.

Now this knight had a squire who had to name Robin, and was the valiantest squire to be found in any land, and by his prowess and his good fame oft he bore away the prize for his lord from the tournay whereas he wended. Whereon it befel that his lady thus bespake him: "Robin, my lord is so given up to these tournays that I know not how to speak with him, whereof I am sore at heart, for I would well that he should lay pain and care to the wedding of my daughter; wherefore I pray thee, for the love of me, that whenas thou seest the point thou say to him that he doth very ill and is sore blamed that he weddeth not his fair daughter, for there is no knight in the land how rich soever he be who would not take her with a good will." "Lady,"

said Robin, "ye have said well; I will say it right well; since forsooth he troweth me of many things, and so will he hereof meseemeth." "Robin," said the lady, "I pray thee of this business for all guerdon." "Dame," said Robin, "I am well prayed hereof; and wot ye that I will do to my power herein." "It is enough," said the lady.

No long while after the knight betook him to wending to a tournay afar from his land, and when he came there he was retained straightway of the fellowship, he and the knight of whose mesney he was, and his banner was borne into the hostel of his lord. The tournay began, and the knight did so well by means of the good deeds of Robin, his squire, that he bore off the praise and prize of the tournay from one party and the other. On the second day the knight betook him to wending to his own land, and Robin put him to reason many times and blamed him much in that he gave not his fair daughter in marriage, and many times he said it to him, till at the last his lord said to him: "Robin, thou and thy lady give me no peace about the marrying of my daughter; but as yet I know and see no man in my land unto whom I would give her." "Ah, sir," said Robin, "there is not a knight in thy land who would not take her with a good will."

"Fair friend Robin, they are of no avail, all of them; and to none of them shall I give her; and forsooth to no one would I give her as now, save to one man only, and he forsooth is no knight." "Sir, tell me of him," said Robin, "and I shall speak or let speak to him so subtilly that the marriage shall be made." "Certes, Robin," said the knight, "from the semblance that I see of thee thou willest well that my daughter should be wedded." "Sir," said Robin, "thou sayest sooth, for it is well time." "Robin," said the knight, "whereas thou art so eager that my daughter should be wedded, she shall be wedded right soon if thou accord to the said wedding." "Certes, sir," said Robin, "of a good will shall I accord thereto." "Wilt thou give me thy word herein?" "Yea, sir," said Robin. "Robin, thou hast served me exceeding well, and I have found thee a valiant man, and a loyal, and such as I be thou hast made me, and great gain have I gotten by thee, to wit, five hundred pounds of land; for it was but a little while that I had but five hundred, and now have I a thousand, and I tell thee that I owe much to thee: wherefore will I give my fair daughter unto thee, if thou wilt take her." "Ha, sir," said Robin, "G.o.d's mercy, what is this thou sayest? I am too poor a person to have so high a maiden, nor one so fair and so rich as my damsel is; I am not meet thereto. For there is no knight in this land, be he never so gentle a man, but would take her with a good will." "Robin, know that no knight of this land shall have her, but I shall give her to thee, if thou will it; and thereto will I give thee four hundred pounds of my land." "Ha, sir," said Robin, "I deem that thou mockest me." "Robin," said the knight, "wot thou surely that I mock thee not." "Ha, sir, neither my lady nor her great lineage will accord hereto." "Robin," said the knight, "nought shall be done herein at the will of any of them. Hold! here is my glove, I invest thee with four hundred pounds of my land, and I will be thy warrant for all."

"Sir," said Robin "I will nought naysay it; fair is the gift since I know that is soothfast." "Robin," said the knight, "now hast thou the rights thereof."

Then the knight delivered to him his glove, and invested him with the land and his fair daughter.

Then rode the knight so far by his journeys, that he came into his land, and when he was come thither, his wife, who was a much fair lady, made him right great joy, and said to him: "Sir, for G.o.d's sake think of thy fair daughter, that she be wedded." "Dame," said the lord, "so much hast thou spoken hereof that I have wedded her."

"Sir," said the lady, "unto whom?" "Forsooth, dame, I have given her to such a man as shall never lack of valiancy: I have given her to Robin my squire." "Robin! Alas!" quoth the lady; "Robin hath nought, and there is no knight so mighty in all the land, but will take her with a good will; of a surety Robin shall never have her."

"Yea, but have her he shall, dame," said the knight, "and I have invested him with four hundred pounds of my land; and all that I ought to warrant him, warrant him I will." When the dame heard that, she was much sorry, and said to her lord that Robin should have her never. "Nay, dame," said the lord, "have her he shall, wilt thou or wilt thou not; for even so have I made covenant and I will hold to the same.

When the lady heard her lord, she entered into her chamber and fell a-weeping and making great dole; after the dole which she made she sent to seek her brothers and her nephews and her cousins germain, and showed them that which her lord would do; and they said to her: "Dame, what will ye that we do? We have no will to go against thy lord, for he is a knight valiant and hardy and weighty withal: and on the other hand he may do with his daughter according to his will, and with his land which he hath gotten withal. So wot thou well that we will not hang shield on neck herein." "Nay? alas, then!" said the dame, "so shall my heart never have joy if I lose my fair daughter.

At least, fair lords, I pray you that ye show him that if he does thus he will neither do well nor according to his honour." "Dame,"

say they, "this setting forth will we do with a good will."

So they came unto the knight, and when they had showed him their business he answered them right courteously: "Fair lords, I will tell you what I will do for the love of you; if it please you I will put off the wedding in this wise as I shall tell you; to wit: Amongst you ye be rich and of great lands; ye are nigh friends of my fair daughter, whom I love much. If ye will give her four hundred pounds of land I will set aside the wedding, and she shall be wedded elsewhere according to your counsel." "A-G.o.d's name," quoth they, "we be nought fain to lay down so much." "Well, then," said the knight, "since ye will not do this, then suffer me to do with my daughter as I list." "Sir, with a good will," said they.

So the knight sent for his chaplain, and brought thither his fair daughter, and let affiance her to Robin, and set a day for the wedding. But the third day thereafter, Robin spake to his lord, and prayed him make him a knight, whereas it was nought meet that he should take to him so high a wife and so fair before he was a knight.

His lord had great joy thereof, and the next day he was made knight, and the third day wedded the fair maiden with great feast and joyance.

But when master Robin was made knight he spake thus to his lord: "Sir, ye have made me knight; and true it is that against the peril of death I vowed me to the road unto Saint Jamesward on the morrow of my knighting; wherefore I pray thee take it not in dudgeon if to- morrow morn I must needs go my ways so soon as I shall have wedded thy fair daughter; whereas in nowise will I break mine oath."

"Forsooth, master Robin, if thou leave thus my fair daughter and thus wise go your ways, ye shall be much to blame." "Sir," said he, "I shall come back right soon if G.o.d will; but this wayfaring I needs must perforce." Whenas a certain knight of the court of the lord heard these words he blamed Sir Robin much, whereas he was leaving his fair wife at such a point, and Sir Robin said that he needs must do it. "Certes," said the knight, who had to name Raoul, "if thou goest thus to Saint James without touching thy fair wife, I will make thee cuckold before thine home-coming, and when thou comest home I will give thee good tokens that I have had share of her. Now I will lay my land thereto against thine, which our lord hath given thee, for I have well four hundred pounds of land even as thou hast."

"Forsooth," said Sir Robin, "my wife is not come of such blood as that she shall misdo against me, and I may not believe in it nowise: I will make the wager with thee, if it please thee." "Yea," said Sir Raoul, "wilt thou pledge thee thereto?" "Yea, verily," said Sir Robin, "and thou?" "Yea, and I also. Now go we to my lord and make record of our covenant." "That will I well," said Sir Robin.

Therewith they go unto the lord, and the wager was recorded, and they pledged them to hold thereto. On the morrow betimes Sir Robin wedded the fair maiden, and straightway after ma.s.s was said, he departed from the house and left the wedding, and took the road for St.

Jakem."

But now leaveth the tale to tell of him and telleth of Sir Raoul, who was in great imagination how he might win his wager and lie by the fair lady. And saith the tale that the lady held her much simply while her lord was on pilgrimage, and was going to the minster with a good will, and prayed G.o.d that he would bring back her lord. But Sir Raoul pained him on the other hand how he might win his wager, for great doubt he had to lose his land. He spake with the carline who dwelt with the fair lady, and said to her, that if she could so bring it about that she might set him in place and at point that he might speak privily with my lady Jehane, and have his will of her, he would give her much good, so that there would be no hour when she should not be rich. "Sir, forsooth," said the carline, "thou art so fair a knight, and so wise and courteous that my lady should well ought to love thee par amours, and I will put myself to the pain herein to the utmost of my might." Then the knight drew out straightway a forty sols, and gave it to her to buy a gown. The carline took them with a goodwill, and set them away surely, and said that she would speak with the lady. The knight departed from the carline, and the carline abode and took her lady to task when she came back from the minster, and said to her: "In G.o.d's name, lady, tell me true! My lord, when he went to Saint Jakem, had he ever lain by thee?" "Wherefore dost thou say this, dame Hersent?" "Lady, because I trow that thou be yet a clean maid." "Certes, dame Hersent, so am I verily; for of no woman wot I who would do such a deed." "Lady," said dame Hersent, "great damage it is; for if ye wotted how great is the joy that women have when they be with a man who loveth them, ye would say that there is no joy so great; and for this cause I marvel much that ye love not par amours even as these other ladies who all love. But if it pleaseth thee the matter is ready to hand; whereas I wot of a knight, fair and valiant and wise, who will love thee with a good will; a much rich man is he, and fairer by far than the coward recreant who hath left thee. And if ye dare love ye may have whatso ye dare ask; and so much joy shall ye have as never lady had more." So much spake the carline by her words that the needle of nature stirred somewhat.

The lady asked who the knight might be. "Who is it, lady? A-G.o.d's name! I may well name him. It is the lovely, the valiant, the hardy Sir Raoul, who is one of the mesney of thy father; the kindest heart men wot of." "Dame Hersent," said the lady, "thou wert best let such words be; for I have no desire to misdo of my body, of no such blood am I come." "Dame," said the carline, "I wot well. But never shalt thou know the worthy joy when a man wendeth with a woman."

Thuswise abode the matter. Sir Raoul came back to the carline, and she told him how she had talked with the lady, and what she had answered. "Dame Hersent," said the knight, "thus wise should a good lady answer; but ye shall speak with her again, for one doeth not the business at the first stroke: and hold, here be twenty sols to buy thee a cloth to thy surcoat." The carline took the silver, and spake with the lady often, but nought it availed.

Wore the time till at last they heard news that Sir Robin was wending back from Saint Jakem, and that he was already hard on Paris. Soon was known the tidings, and Sir Raoul, who had fear of the losing of his lands, returned to the carline, and spake with her; and she said that she might not bring the business to an end: but that she would do so much for the love of him, if she should earn her service, that she would so bring it about as that there should be none in the house save he and this lady: and then he might do his will on her, will she nill she: and he said that he asked for nought else. "Then,"

said the carline, "ye, my lord, shall come within eight days, and I will do my lady to bathe her in her chamber, and I will send all the mesney out of the house and out of the castle; then can ye come to her bathing in the chamber, and may have your desire of her, either with her good will or maugre." "Ye have well said," quoth he.

Abode matters thus till Sir Robin sent word that he was coming to hand, and would be at the house on the Sunday. Then the carline let bathe the lady the Thursday before, and the bath was in her chamber, and the fair lady entered therein. But the carline sent after Sir Raoul, and he came. Thereafter she sent all the folk of the household out of the house. Sir Raoul came his ways to the chamber and entered therein, and greeted the lady, but she greeted him not again, but said thus:

"Sir Raoul, thou art nowise courteous. Whether wottest thou forsooth that it is well with me of thy coming? accursed be thou, villain knight!" But Sir Raoul said: "My lady, mercy, a-G.o.d's name! I am but dying for grief of thee. For G.o.d's sake have pity of me!" "Sir Raoul," said she, "I will have no mercy in such wise that I will ever be thy darling. And wot thou well that if thou leave me not in peace I will tell my lord, my father, the honour thou requirest of me: for I am none such as that." "Nay, lady, is it so, then?" "Yea, verily," said she.

Therewith Sir Raoul drew nigh to her, and embraced her in his arms, which were strong enow, and drew her all naked out of the bath and bore her toward her bed; and so soon as he drew her forth of the bath he saw a black spot which she had on her right groin hard by her natural part; and he thought therewithal that that were a good token that he had lain by her. Thus as he bore her off to her bed, his spurs hooked them into the serge at the bed's edge toward the foot thereof, and down fell the knight, he and the lady together, he below and she above; but she rose up straightway and caught up a billet of wood, and smote Sir Raoul therewith amidst the face, and made him a wound both deep and wide, so that the blood fell to earth. So when Sir Raoul felt himself hurt he had no great desire to play, wherefore he arose and got him gone out of the chamber straightway: he did so much that he came to his hostel, where he dwelt a good league thence, and there he had his wound dealt with. But the good dame entered into her bath again, and called dame Hersent, and told the adventure of the knight.

Much great array made the father of the fair lady against the coming of Sir Robin, and he summoned much folk, and sent and bade Sir Raoul to come; but he sent word that he might not come, for that he was sick. On the Sunday camel Sir Robin, and was received right fairly; and the father of the fair lady went to seek Sir Raoul and found him wounded, and said that now for nought might he abide behind from the feast. So he dight his face and his hurt the best wise he might, and went to the feast, which was great and grand day long of drinking and of eating, and of dancing and carolling.

When night was come Sir Robin went to bed with his wife, who received him much joyously as a good dame ought to her lord; so abode they in joy and in feast the more part of the night. On the morrow great was the feast, and the victual was dight and they ate. But when it was after dinner, Sir Raoul bore on hand Sir Robin, and said that he had won his land, whereas he had known his wife carnally, by the token, to wit, that she had a black spot on her right thigh and a pearlet hard by her jewel. "Thereof I wot not," said Sir Robin, "for I have not looked on her so close." "Well, then, I tell thee," said Sir Raoul, "by the oath that thou hast given me that thou take heed thereof, and do me right." "So will I, verily," said Sir Robin.

When night was, Sir Robin played with his wife, and found and saw on her right thigh the black spot, and a pearlet hard by her fair jewel: and when he knew it he was sore grieving. On the morrow he went to Sir Raoul, and said before his lord that he had lost his wager.

Heavy of heart was he day long, and when it was night he went to the stable, and set the saddle on his palfrey, and went forth from the house, bearing with him what he might get him of silver. So came to Paris, and when he was at Paris he abode there three days. But now leaveth the tale to tell of him, and taketh up the word concerning his wife.

Here saith the tale that much sorrowful was the fair lady and heavy of heart, when she called to mind how she had cast her lord out of his house. Much she thought of the wherefore thereof and wept and made great dole; till her father came to her, and said that he were fainer if she were yet to wed, whereas she had done him shame and all them of his lineage; and he told her how and wherefore. When she heard that, she was sore grieved and denied the deed downright; but nought availed. For it is well known that shame so sore is contrary to all women, that if a woman were to burn all, she would not be trowed of such a misdoing, once it were laid on her.

On the first hour of the night the lady arose, and took all pennies that she had in her coffer, and took a nag and a harness thereto, and gat her to the road; and she had let shear her fair tresses, and was otherwise arrayed like to an esquire. So much she went by her journeys that she came to Paris, and went after her lord; and she said and declared that she would never make an end before she had found him. Thus she rode like to a squire. And on a morning she went forth out of Paris, and wended the way toward Orleans until she came to the Tomb Isory, and there she fell in with her lord Sir Robin. Full fain she was when she saw him, and she drew up to him and greeted him, and he gave her greeting back and said: "Fair friend, G.o.d give thee joy!" "Sir," said she, "whence art thou?"

"Forsooth, fair friend, I am of old Hainault." "Sir, whither wendeth thou?" "Forsooth, fair friend, I wot not right well whither I go, nor where I shall dwell. Forsooth, needs must I where fortune shall lead me; and she is contrary enough; for I have lost the thing in the world that most I ever loved: and she also hath lost me. Withal I have lost my land, which was great and fair enough. But what hast thou to name, and whither doth G.o.d lead thee?" "Certes, sir," said Jehane, "I am minded for Ma.r.s.eilles on the sea, where is war as I hope. There would I serve some valiant man, about whom I shall learn me arms if G.o.d will. For I am so undone in mine own country that therein for a while of time I may not have peace. But, sir, meseemeth that thou be a knight, and I would serve thee with a right good will if it please thee. And of my company wilt thou be nought worsened." "Fair friend," said Sir Robin, "a knight am I verily.

And where I may look to find war, thitherward would I draw full willingly. But tell me what thou hast to name?" "Sir," said she, "I have to name John." "In a good hour," quoth the knight. "And thou, sir, how hight thou?" "John," said he, "I have to name Robin." "Sir Robin, retain me as thine esquire, and I will serve thee to my power." "John, so would I with a good will. But so little of money have I that I must needs sell my horse before three days are worn.

Wherefore I wot not how to do to retain thee." "Sir," said John, "be not dismayed thereof, for G.o.d will aid thee if it please him. But tell me where thou wilt eat thy dinner?" "John, my dinner will soon be made; for not another penny have I than three sols of Paris."

"Sir," said John, "be nought dismayed thereof, for I have hard on ten pounds Tournais, whereof thou shalt not lack, if thou hast not to spend at thy will." "Fair friend John, have thou mickle thanks."

Then made they good speed to Montlhery: there John dight meat for his lord and they ate. When they had eaten, the knight slept in a bed and John at his feet. When they had slept, John did on the bridles, and they mounted and gat to the road. They went so far by their journeys that they came to Ma.r.s.eilles-on-sea; but of war they heard no word there, whereof were they much sorry. But now leaveth the tale to tell of them two, and returneth to tell of Sir Raoul, who had by falsehood gained the land of Sir Robin.

Here telleth the tale that so long did Sir Raoul hold the land of Sir Robin without righteous cause, for seven years' wearing. Then he took a great sickness and of that sickness was sore beaten down, insomuch that he was on the point of death. Now he doubted much the transgression which he had done against the fair lady the daughter of his lord, and against her husband also, whereby they were undone, both of them by occasion of his malice. Exceeding ill at ease was he of his wrongdoing, which was so great that he durst not confess it.

Came a day when he was sore undone by his sickness, so he sent for his chaplain whom he loved much, for he had found him a man valiant and loyal; and he said to him: "Sir, thou who art my father before G.o.d, know that I look to die of this sickness, wherefore I pray thee for G.o.d's sake that ye aid me with your counsel, for great is my need thereof, for I have done an ill deed so hideous and dark that scarce shall I have mercy therefor." The chaplain bade him tell it out hardily, and that he would aid him with counsel to his power; till at last Sir Raoul told him all as ye have heard afore. And he prayed him for G.o.d's sake give him counsel, so great as was his misdoing.

"Sir," said he, "be nought dismayed, for if thou wilt do the penance which I enjoin thee, I will take thy transgression on me and on my soul, so that thou shalt be quit." "Yea, tell me then," said the knight. "Sir," said he, "thou shalt take the cross far over sea, and thou shalt get thee thereto within the year wherein thou art whole, and shalt give pledges to G.o.d that thou shalt so do: and in every place where men ask thee the occasion of thy journey, thou shalt tell it to all who shall ask it of thee." "All this will I well do," said the knight. "Then, sir, give thou good pledge." "With a good will,"

said the knight; "thou thyself shalt abide surety for me, and I swear to thee on my knighthood that I shall quit thee well." "A-G.o.d's name, sir!" quoth the chaplain, "I will be thy surety." Now turned the knight to amendment, and was all whole; and a year wore wherein he went not over sea. The chaplain spake to him often thereof, but he held the covenant as but a jest; till at last the chaplain said that but if he acquitted him before G.o.d of his pledge, he would tell the tale to the father of the fair damsel, who had been thus undone by him. When the knight heard that, he said to the chaplain that within half a year he would set about the crossing of the sea, and so swore to him. But now leaveth the tale to tell of the knight, and returneth to telling of King Florus of Ausaye, of whom for a great while it hath been silent.

Now saith the tale that a much good life led King Florus of Ausay and his wife, as of young folk who loved each other; but much sorry and heavy-hearted were they that they might have no child. The lady made great prayers to G.o.d, and let sing ma.s.ses; but whereas it was not well pleasing to G.o.d, it might not be. But on a day came thither into the house of King Florus a good man who had his dwelling in the great forest of Ausaye in a place right wild; and when the queen knew that he was come she came unto him and made him right great joy. And because he was a good man she confessed to him and told him all her ailing, and how that she was exceeding heavy of heart, because she had had no child by her lord. "Ah, lady," said the good man, "since it pleaseth not our Lord, needs must thou abide it; and when it pleaseth him thou shalt have one, or two." "Certes, sir," said the lady, "I were fain thereof; for my lord holdeth me the less dear, and the high barons of this land also. Withal it hath been told to me that they have spoken to my lord to leave me and take another."

"Verily, dame," said the good man, "he would do ill; it would be done against G.o.d and against Holy Church." "Ah, sir, I pray thee to pray to G.o.d for me that I may have a child of my lord, for great fear I have lest he leave me." "Dame," said the good man, "my prayer shall avail but little, but if it please G.o.d; nevertheless I will pray heartily."

The good man departed from the lady, and the barons of the land and of the country came to the King Florus, and bade him send away his wife and take another, since by this he might have no child. And if he did not after their counsel, they would go and dwell otherwhere; for in no case would they that the realm should be without an heir.

King Florus feared his barons and trowed their word, and he said that he would send away his wife, and that they should seek him another, and they trusted him therein. When the lady knew it she was exeeeding heavy of heart; but nought durst she do, for she knew that her lord would leave her. So she sent for the hermit who had been her confessor, and he came to her. Then the lady told him all the tale of the matter of the barons, who would seek for their lord another woman. "And I pray thee, good father, that thou wouldst aid me, and counsel me what I should do." "Dame," said the good man, "if it be so as thou sayest, ye must needs suffer it; for against thy lord and against his barons ye may do nought perforce." "Sir," said the good lady, "thou sayest sooth: but if it please G.o.d, I were fain to be a recluse nigh unto thee; whereby I may be at the service of G.o.d all the days of my life, and that I may have comfort of thee."

"Dame," said the good man, "that would be over strange a thing, whereas thou art too young a lady and too fair. But I will tell thee what thou shalt do. Hard by my hermitage there is an abbey of White Nuns, who are right good ladies, and I counsel you go thither; and they will have great joy of thee for thy goodness and thy high dignity." "Sir," said she, "thou hast well said; I will do all that thou counsellest me."