his word alone sustains and nourishes her, and assuages
all her pain. She cares to eat and drink of no other dish or beverage,
for when the two lovers came to part, Cliges had said he was "altogether
hers." This word is so sweet and tastes so good that from the tongue it
stirs her heart, and she takes it into her mouth and heart to be all the
more sure of it. Under any other lock she would not dare to store this
treasure. Nowhere could it be lodged so well as in her own bosom. She
will never leave it exposed at any price, being in such fear of robbers
and thieves. But there is no ground for her anxiety, and she need have
no fear of the birds of prey, for her treasure is not movable, but is
rather like a house which cannot be destroyed by fire or flood, but will
always stay fixed in a single place. But she feels no confidence in the
matter, so she worries and strives to find and hold some ground on which
to stand, interpreting the situation in divers ways. She both opposes
and defends her position, and engages in the following argument: "With
what intention should Cliges say 'I am altogether yours' unless it was
love that prompted him? What power can I have over him that he should
esteem me so highly as to make me the mistress of his heart? Is he not
more fair than I, and of higher rank than I? I see in it naught but
love, which could vouchsafe me such a boon. I, who cannot escape its
power, will prove by my own case that unless he loved me he would never
say that he was mine; unless love holds him in its toils, Cliges
could never say that he was mine any more than I could say that I was
altogether his unless love had put me in his hands. For if he loves me
not, at least he does not fear me. I hope that love which gives me to
him will in return give him to me. But now I am sore dismayed because it
is so trite a word, and I may simply be deceived, for many there be who
in flattering terms will say even to a total stranger, 'I and all that
I have are yours,' and they are more idle chatterers than the jays. So
I do not know what to think, for it might well turn out that he said it
just to flatter me. Yet I saw his colour change, and I saw him weeping
piteously. In my judgment, the tears and his face confused and pale were
not produced by treachery, nor were they the fruits of trickery. Those
eyes from which I saw tears roll down were not guilty of falsehood.
Signs enough of love I saw, if I know anything about it. Yes, in an