e it, nor could any
one ever have told that there was door or window there, as long
as the door was not opened, so hidden and concealed was it.

When Fenice saw the door open and the sun which she had not seen
for a long time shine in, she has all her blood awhirl with joy
and says that now she seeks nothing more, inasmuch as she can
come forth out of the hiding-place, and seeks no refuge
elsewhere. By the door she has entered the orchard, and this
greatly pleases and delights her. In the midst of the orchard
there was a grafted tree loaded with flowers and very leafy, and
it formed a canopy above. The branches were so trained that they
hung towards the ground and bent almost to the earth, all save
the top from which they sprang, for that rose straight upwards.
Fenice desires no other place. And below the grafted tree the
meadow is very delectable and very fair, nor ever will the sun be
so high even at noon, when it is hottest, that ever a ray can
pass that way, so skilled was John to arrange things and to guide
and train the branches. There Fenice goes to disport herself, and
all day she makes her couch there; there they are in joy and
delight. And the orchard is enclosed around with a high wall
which joins the tower, so that no creature could enter it, unless
he had climbed to the top of the tower.

Now is Fenice in great delight: there is nought to displease her,
nor lacks she aught that she could wish, when 'neath the flowers
and leaves it lists her embrace her lover. At the time when folk
go hunting with the sparrow-hawk and with the hound, which seeks
the lark and the stonechat and tracks the quail and the
partridge, it happened that a knight of Thrace, a young and
sprightly noble, esteemed for his prowess, had one day gone
a-hawking quite close beside this tower; Bertrand was the
knight's name. His sparrow-hawk had soared high, for it had
missed the lark that was its aim. Now will Bertrand consider
himself ill served by fate, if he lose his sparrow-hawk. He saw
it descend and settle below the tower in an orchard, and it
pleased him much to see this, for now he reckons that he will not
lose it. Forthwith he goes to scale the wall, and wins to get
over it. Under the grafted tree he saw Fenice and Cliges sleeping
together side by side. "God!" quoth he, "what has befallen me?
What kind of miracle is it that I see? Is it not Cliges? Yea,
faith. Is not that the empress by his side? Nay, but she
resembles her, for