"Sir, once when I was in grievous peril of death, I vowed to seek St.
James's shrine on the morrow of that day I gained my spurs. I pray you
be not wroth with me if to-morrow morn it becomes my honour to wend
thither directly after this marriage, for in no wise will I fail to
observe my vow."
"Certes, Messire Robert, if you do this despite to my daughter, and go
lonely upon your road, very rightly will you be held to blame."
"Sir," said he, "so it pleases God, I shall soon return, but go I must
on peril of my soul."
When a certain knight of the lord's household heard these words,
greatly he reproached Messire Robert for parting from his bride at such
an hour, but Robert answered him that he durst not break his oath.
"Truly," said the knight, who was named Raoul, "truly if you wend thus
to St. James's shrine, leaving so fair a bride but a wedded maid, very
surely will I win her love ere you return. Certain proofs, moreover,
will I give that I have had my way with her; and to this will I pledge
my lands against the lands our lord has granted you, for mine are fully
worth the rents of yours."
"My wife," answered Messire Robert, "does not come of a race to deal me
so shrewd a wrong, and since I give no credence to your words,
willingly will I make the wager, if so it pleases you."
"Yes," said Raoul, "and to this you pledge your faith?"
"Yea," said Messire Robert, "willingly. And you?"
"I, too, pledge my faith. Now let us seek our lord forthwith, and set
before him our bargain."
"That is my desire also," said Messire Robert.
Then they went straight to their lord and laid before him this wager,
and plighted troth to observe their covenant. So in the morning Messire
Robert was married to the fair maiden, and when the bridal Mass was
ended, incontinent he parted from the hall, without tasting the wedding
meats, and set forth on his way, a pilgrim to Compostella.
Now ceaseth the tale to speak of him, and telleth of Raoul, who was hot
in thought as to how he might gain the wager and have to do with the
fair lady. So relateth the tale that the lady behaved very discreetly
whilst her husband was on pilgrimage, for she spent much time upon her
knees in church, praying God to bring her lord again. For his part
Messire Raoul was in a heat in what manner he might win the wager, for
more and more it seemed to him that he should lose his land. He sought
speech with an old dame who attended on the lady, promising that so she
brought him in such a place and hour that he might speak privily to
Madame Jehane, and have his will, then he would deal so largely with
her, that never in her life should she be poor.
"Certes, sir," said the crone, "you are so lovely a knight, so sweet in
speech and so courteous, that verily it is my lady's duty to set her
love upon you, and it will be my pleasure to toil in your service."
So the knight took forty sous from his pouch, and gave them to her that
she might buy a kirtle. The old woman received them greedily, and
hiding the money in a secret place promised to speak to her lady. The
knight bade farewell, and went his way, but the crone tarried in that
place, and when her lady entered from the church said straitly--
"Lady, for God's love, tell me truly, when my lord went to Compostella
did he leave you a maid?"
"Why ask you such a question, Dame Hersent?"
"Because, lady, I believe you to be a virgin wife!"
"Certes, Dame Hersent, and that I am, nor do I know woman who would be
aught else in my case."
"Lady," returned Dame Hersent, "ah, the pity of it! If you but knew the
joy that women have in company of the man they love, you would say that
there is no fonder happiness to be found on earth. Greatly I marvel,
therefore, that you love not, _par amours_, seeing that every lady
loveth with her friend. Were the thing but pleasing to you, fair
falleth the chance, for well I know a knight, comely of person, sweet
and wise of speech, who asks naught better than to set on you his love.
Very rich is he, and lovelier far than the shamed recreant who has left
you in this plight. If you are not too fearful to grant him grace, you
can have of him all that you please to ask, and such joy moreover as no
lady can hope for more."
Whilst the crone was speaking, the lady, who was but a woman, felt her
senses stir within. Curiously she inquired who this knight should be.
"Who is he, lady? God above! one has no fear to cry his name! Who
should it be but that lovely lord, so courteous, so bold, Messire
Raoul, of your father's house, the sweetest heart of all the world."
"Dame Hersent," said the lady, "you will do well to let these words be,
for I have no wish to do myself such wrong, neither come I of such
stock as goes after shame."
"Dame," replied the old woman, "I know it well; but never can you have
the joy of maid with man."
Thus ended their discourse; but presently Sir Raoul came again to the
crone, and she made plain to him how she had spoken to her lady, and in
what fashion she was answered.
"Dame Hersent," said the knight, "so should a virtuous lady reply; but
I pray you speak again with her of this matter, for the archer does not
wing the bird with a first arrow; and, stay, take these twenty sous,
and buy a lining to your coat."
So that ancient dame took the gift, and wearied the lady with enticing
words, but nothing came of all her proffers.
Slowly or quickly thus passed the days, till came the tidings that Sir
Robert was on his way from Compostella, and was already near to Paris.
Very speedily this news was noised abroad, and Sir Raoul, fearing
greatly to lose his lands, again sought speech with the crone. Then
said the old woman that in no wise could she snare the bird, but that
for the great love she bore him this thing she would do--so he would
recompense her service--namely, that she would put matters in such a
case that none should be in the house save himself and the lady, and
then he could act according to his pleasure, whether she would or
whether she would not. So Raoul answered that he desired no other
thing.
"This I will do," said the old woman. "Messire shall come again in
eight days, and on that day shall my lady bathe within her bower. I
will see that all her household are forth from the castle, so may you
come privily to her chamber, and have your desire of her, whether she
cry yea or whether she cry nay."
"You have fairly spoken," answered he.
Hard upon this came letters from Messire Robert that he would be at
the castle on Sunday. On the Thursday, therefore, the crone caused the
bath to be heated in the bower, and the lady disarrayed herself to
enter therein. Then the old woman sent messages to Sir Raoul that he
should come speedily, and moreover she caused all the household to go
forth from that place. Sir Raoul came to the bower, and entering,
saluted the lady, but she deigned no reply to his greeting, and said--
"Sir Raoul, of a truth I thank you for this courtesy, yet you might
have asked if such a visit would be according to my wish. Accursed may
you be for a most ungentle knight."