the count should abide
in perpetual exile; nay, rather she purposed to spend the rest of her
life in pilgrimages and works of mercy and charity for her soul's
health; wherefore she prayed them take the ward and governance of the
county and notify the count that she had left him free and vacant
possession and had departed the country, intending nevermore to return
to Roussillon. Many were the tears shed by the good folk, whilst she
spoke, and many the prayers addressed to her that it would please her
change counsel and abide there; but they availed nought. Then,
commending them to God, she set out upon her way, without telling any
whither she was bound, well furnished with monies and jewels of price
and accompanied by a cousin of hers and a chamberwoman, all in
pilgrims' habits, and stayed not till she came to Florence, where,
chancing upon a little inn, kept by a decent widow woman, she there
took up her abode and lived quietly, after the fashion of a poor
pilgrim, impatient to hear news of her lord.

It befell, then, that on the morrow of her arrival she saw Bertrand
pass before her lodging, a-horseback with his company, and albeit she
knew him full well, natheless she asked the good woman of the inn who
he was. The hostess answered, 'That is a stranger gentleman, who
calleth himself Count Bertrand, a pleasant man and a courteous and
much loved in this city; and he is the most enamoured man in the world
of a she-neighbour of ours, who is a gentlewoman, but poor. Sooth to
say, she is a very virtuous damsel and abideth, being yet unmarried
for poverty, with her mother, a very good and discreet lady, but for
whom, maybe, she had already done the count's pleasure.' The countess
took good note of what she heard and having more closely enquired into
every particular and apprehended all aright, determined in herself how
she should do.

Accordingly, having learned the house and name of the lady whose
daughter the count loved, she one day repaired privily thither in her
pilgrim's habit and finding the mother and daughter in very poor case,
saluted them and told the former that, an it pleased her, she would
fain speak with her alone. The gentlewoman, rising, replied that she
was ready to hearken to her and accordingly carried her into a chamber
of hers, where they seated themselves and the countess began thus,
'Madam, meseemeth you are of the enemies of Fortune, even as I am;
but, an you will, belike you may be able to reliev