lth of the city, nothing would
I accept but what has been signed, sealed, and settled between us."
They go before the judge; the sentence is not a doubtful one.

The maiden, however, kept herself well informed of all that went on,
and, seeing the turn affairs were taking, "she cut her hair, donned a
rich suit of men's clothes, mounted a palfrey, and set out for the
palace where her lover was about to hear his sentence." She asks to be
allowed to defend the knight. "But nothing can be done," says the judge.
She offers money to the merchant, which he refuses; she then exclaims:
"Let it be done as he desires; let him have the flesh, and nothing but
the flesh; the bond says nothing of the blood." Hearing this, the
merchant replies: "Give me my money and I hold you clear of the rest."
"Not so," said the maiden. The merchant is confounded, the knight
released; the maiden returns home hurriedly, puts on her female attire,
and hastens out to meet her lover, eager to hear all that has passed.

"O my dear mistress, that I love above all things, I nearly lost my life
this day; but as I was about to be condemned, suddenly appeared a knight
of an admirable presence, so handsome that I never saw his like." How
could she, at these words, prevent her sparkling eyes from betraying
her? "He saved me by his wisdom, and nought had I even to pay.

"_The Maiden._--Thou might'st have been more generous, and brought home
to supper the knight who had saved thy life.

"_The Knight._--He appeared and disappeared so suddenly I could not.

"_The Maiden._--Would'st thou recognise him again if he returned?

"_The Knight._--I should, assuredly."[277]

She then puts on again her male attire, and it is easy to imagine with
what transports the knight beheld his saviour in his friend. The end of
this first outline of a "Merchant of Venice" is not less naive,
picturesque, and desultory than the rest: "Thereupon he immediately
married the maiden," and they led saintly lives. We are not told what
the prudent emperor Celestinus thought of this "immediately."

Next to these compilers whose works became celebrated, but whose names
for the most part remained concealed, were professional authors, who
were and wanted to be known, and who enjoyed a great personal fame.
Foremost among them were John of Salisbury and Walter Map.

John of Salisbury,[278] a former pupil of Abelard, a friend of St.
Bernard, Thomas Becket, and the English Pope Adrian IV., the env