long as life should last; even the lady,
who possessed unknowingly his heart, begged him insistently to tarry
there until his lion and he had quite recovered. And he replied: "Lady,
I shall not now tarry here until my lady removes from me her displeasure
and anger: then the end of all my labours will come." "Indeed," she
said, "that grieves me. I think the lady cannot be very courteous who
cherishes ill-will against you. She ought not to close her door against
so valorous a knight as you, unless he had done her some great wrong."
"Lady," he replies, "however great the hardship be, I am pleased by what
ever may be her will. But speak to me no more of that; for I shall say
nothing of the cause or crime, except to those who are informed of it."
"Does any one know it, then, beside you two?" "Yes, truly, lady." "Well,
tell us at least your name, fair sir; then you will be free to go."
"Quite free, my lady? No, I shall not be free. I owe more than I can
pay. Yet, I ought not to conceal from you my name. You will never hear
of 'The Knight with the Lion' without hearing of me; for I wish to be
known by that name." "For God's sake, sir, what does that name mean? For
we never saw you before, nor have we ever heard mentioned this name
of yours." "My lady, you may from that infer that my fame is not
widespread." Then the lady says: "Once more, if it did not oppose your
will, I would pray you to tarry here." "Really, my lady, I should not
dare, until I knew certainly that I had regained my lady's good-will."
"Well, then, go in God's name, fair sir; and, if it be His will, may He
convert your grief and sorrow into joy." "Lady," says he, "may God hear
your prayer." Then he added softly under his breath: "Lady, it is you
who hold the key, and, though you know it not, you hold the casket in
which my happiness is kept under lock."

(Vv. 4635-4674.) Then he goes away in great distress, and there is no
one who recognises him save Lunete, who accompanied him a long distance.
Lunete alone keeps him company, and he begs her insistently never to
reveal the name of her champion. "Sire," says she, "I will never do so."
Then he further requested her that she should not forget him, and that
she should keep a place for him in his mistress' heart, whenever the
chance arose. She tells him to be at ease on that score; for she will
never be forgetful, nor unfaithful, nor idle. Then he thanks her a
thousand times, and he departs pensive and oppressed, b