rom the French camp every day,
and there was constant talk of an approaching battle. So he sent for the
surgeon who attended him and told him that all this worry was making him
much worse, and that he must be allowed to join the camp. Seeing what kind
of warrior he had to deal with, the good man replied that the wound was not
closed but was healing well, and that there would be no danger in his
sitting on horseback, but the wound must be carefully dressed night and
morning by his barber. If any one had given Bayard a fortune he would not
have been so delighted, and he settled to start in two days' time. On the
morning when he was to leave after dinner, the good lady of the house came
to speak to him. She knew that by the laws of war she, her daughters, and
her husband (who had long since returned from the monastery where he had
taken refuge) were all prisoners of this French knight, and all that was in
the house belonged to him. But she had found him so kind and courteous that
she hoped to gain his favour by a handsome present, and she brought with
her one of her servants bearing a steel casket containing 2500 ducats. On
entering the Good Knight's chamber she fell on her knees before him, but he
would not suffer her to speak a word until she was seated by his side. Then
she poured out all her gratitude for his knightly courtesy and protection,
and at last offered him the casket, opening it to show what it contained.
But Bayard put it aside with a friendly smile, and replied:
"On my word, dear lady, I have never cared for money all my life! No riches
could ever be so precious to me as the kindness and devoted care which you
have shown to me during my stay with you, and I assure you that so long as
I live you will always have a faithful gentleman at your command. I thank
you very much for your ducats, but I pray that you will take them back...."
However, the lady was so much distressed at his refusal that he at length
accepted the casket, but begged her to send her daughters to wish him
good-bye. When they came and would have fallen on their knees before him,
he would not suffer such humility, but thanked them for all their kindness
in cheering him with their lute and spinet and singing during his illness,
and begged them to accept the ducats contained in their mother's casket,
which he poured out into their aprons whether they would or not. Overcome
by his courteous persuasion, the mother thanked him with tears in her eyes
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