om limb than consent unto such an offence against his
lord's honour, whether in himself or in another. The lady, hearing
this, forthright forgot her love and kindling into a furious rage,
said, 'Felon knight that you are, shall I be this wise flouted by you
of my desire? Now God forbid, since you would have me die, but I have
you put to death or driven from the world!' So saying, she set her
hands to her tresses and altogether disordered and tore them; then,
rending her raiment at the breast, she fell to crying aloud and
saying, 'Help! Help! The Count of Antwerp would do me violence.' The
count, seeing this, misdoubting far more the courtiers' envy than his
own conscience and fearful lest, by reason of this same envy, more
credence should be given to the lady's malice than to his own
innocence, started up and departing the chamber and the palace as
quickliest he might, fled to his own house, where, without taking
other counsel, he set his children on horseback and mounting himself
to horse, made off with them, as most he might, towards Calais.

Meanwhile, many ran to the princess's clamour and seeing her in that
plight and hearing [her account of] the cause of her outcry, not only
gave credence to her words, but added[126] that the count's gallant
bearing and debonair address had long been used by him to win to that
end. Accordingly, they ran in a fury to his houses to arrest him, but
finding him not, first plundered them all and after razed them to the
foundations. The news, in its perverted shape, came presently to the
army to the king and his son, who, sore incensed, doomed Gautier and
his descendants to perpetual banishment, promising very great guerdons
to whoso should deliver him to them alive or dead.

[Footnote 126: Sic (_aggiunsero_); but _semble_ should mean "believed,
in addition."]

The count, woeful for that by his flight he had, innocent as he was,
approved himself guilty, having, without making himself known or being
recognized, reached Calais with his children, passed hastily over into
England and betook himself in mean apparel to London, wherein ere he
entered, with many words he lessoned his two little children, and
especially in two things; first, that they should brook with patience
the poor estate, whereunto, without their fault, fortune had brought
them, together with himself,--and after, that with all wariness they
should keep themselves from ever discovering unto any whence or whose
children t