hen they talked together at length of all that
was upon their hearts, and love furnished them with so much to say that
topics did not lack. And when Lancelot sees how well he stands, and that
all he says finds favour with the Queen, he says to her in confidence:
"Lady, I marvel greatly why you received me with such a countenance when
you saw me the day before yesterday, and why you would not speak a word
to me: I almost died of the blow you gave me, and I had not the courage
to dare to question you about it, as I now venture to do. I am ready
now, lady, to make amends, when you have told me what has been the crime
which has caused me such distress." Then the Queen replies: "What? Did
you not hesitate for shame to mount the cart? You showed you were loath
to get in, when you hesitated for two whole steps. That is the reason
why I would neither address nor look at you." "May God save me from such
a crime again," Lancelot replies, "and may God show me no mercy, if you
were not quite right! For God's sake, lady, receive my amends at once,
and tell me, for God's sake, if you can ever pardon me." "Friend, you
are quite forgiven," the Queen replies; "I pardon you willingly." "Thank
you for that, lady," he then says; "but I cannot tell you here all that
I should like to say; I should like to talk with you more at leisure, if
possible." Then the Queen indicates a window by her glance rather than
with her finger, and says: "Come through the garden to-night and speak
with me at yonder window, when every one inside has gone to sleep. You
will not be able to get in: I shall be inside and you outside: to gain
entrance will be impossible. I shall be able to touch you only with my
lips or hand, but, if you please, I will stay there until morning for
love of you. Our bodies cannot be joined, for close beside me in my room
lies Kay the seneschal, who is still suffering from his wounds. And the
door is not open, but is tightly closed and guarded well. When you come,
take care to let no spy catch sight of you." "Lady," says he, "if I can
help it, no spy shall see me who might think or speak evil of us." Then,
having agreed upon this plan, they separate very joyfully.

(Vv. 4551-4650.) Lancelot leaves the room in such a happy frame that all
his past troubles are forgotten. But he was so impatient for the night
to come that his restlessness made the day seem longer than a hundred
ordinary days or than an entire year. If night had only come, he