n the days
when I was first wedded to Master Clement yonder, he found his bed cold
without me, for he was a hot lover; therefore would he often have me
with him on his journeys, how hard soever or perilous the way might be.
Yea, Clement, thou lookest the sooth, though thou sayest it not, I was
nought loth thereto, partly because I would not grieve thee, my man;
but partly, and belike mostly, because I was wishful to see the ways of
the world even at the risk of being thrust out of the world. So it
befell us on a time to make a journey together, a journey exceeding
long, in the company of certain chapmen, whereof some, and not a few,
died on the way. But we lived, and came into the eastern parts of the
earth to a city right ancient, and fulfilled of marvels, which hight
Sarras the Holy. There saw we wonders whereof were it overlong to tell
of here; but one while I will tell thee, my lord. But this I must
needs say, that I heard tell of a woman dwelling there, who was not old
by seeming, but had in her the wisdom of ten lives, and the longing gat
hold of me to see her and learn wisdom of her. So I entreated many who
were called wise, some with prayers, and some with gifts also, to help
me to speech of her; but I gat nothing either by praying or giving;
they that would have helped me could not, and they that could would
not. So, what between one thing and another, the longing to see the
Wise Woman grew as it were into a madness in me. Amidst of which we
fell in with a merchant exceeding wise in ancient lore, who looked at
me (though Clement knew it not) with eyes of love. Of this man I asked
concerning the Wise Woman, and he seeing my desire, strove to use it
merchant-like, and would deal with me and have in payment for his
learning a gift which I had nought to do to give. Howbeit madness and
my desire for speech with the Wise Woman got the better of me, and I
promised to give no less than he would, trusting to beguile him after I
had got my desire, and be quit of him. So he led me to the woman and
went his ways. She dwelt all by herself in a nook of an ancient ruined
palace, erst the house of the ancientest of all the kings of Sarras.
When I came to her, I saw nought dreadful or ugsome about her: she was
cheerful of countenance and courteous of demeanour, and greeted me
kindly as one neighbour in the street of Wulstead might do to another.
I saw her, that she was by seeming a woman of some forty winters, trim
an