that took the shapes of the
knights that were dead in the forest, wherof the bodies lay not in the
blessed burial-ground.

XVI.

The damsel beholdeth their sepulchres all round about the graveyard
whereinto she was come. She seeth them surrounded of knights, all
black, and spears had they withal, and came one against another, and
made such uproar and alarm as it seemed all the forest resounded
thereof. The most part held swords all red as of fire, and ran either
upon other, and gashed one another's hands and feet and nose and face.
And great was the clashing they made, but they could not come a-nigh
the grave-yard. The damsel seeth them, and hath such affright thereof
that she nigh fell to the ground in a swoon. The mule whereon she sate
draweth wide his nostrils and goeth in much fear. The damsel signeth
her of the cross and commendeth her to the Saviour and to His sweet
Mother. She looketh before her to the head of the grave-yard, and
seeth the chapel, small and ancient. She smiteth her mule with her
whip, and cometh thitherward and alighteth. She entered therewithin
and found a great brightness of light. Within was an image of Our
Lady, to whom she prayeth right sweetly that She will preserve her
senses and her life and enable her to depart in safety from this
perilous place. She seeth above the altar the most holy cloth for the
which she was come thither, that was right ancient, and a smell came
thereof so sweet and glorious that no sweetness of the world might
equal it. The damsel cometh toward the altar thinking to take the
cloth, but it goeth up into the air as if the wind had lifted it, and
was so high that she might not reach it above an ancient crucifix that
was there within.

"Ha, God!" saith the damsel, "It is for my sin and my disloyalty that
this most holy cloth thus draweth itself away from me!"

XVII.

"Fair Father God, never did I evil to none, nor never did I shame nor
sinned deadly in myself, nor never wrought against your will, so far as
in me lay, but rather do I serve you and love and fear you and your
sweet Mother; and all the tribulation I receive, accept I in patience
for your love, for well I know that such is your pleasure, nor have I
no will to set myself against nought that pleaseth you.

XVIII.

"When it shall please you, you will release me and my mother of the
grief and tribulation wherein we are. For well you know that they have
reaved her of her castles by wr