craved a lodging for the night, and the
pilgrims were welcomed gladly of the monks, who gave them meat and
drink near by the Abbot's table. On the morrow, after Mass, they would
have gone their way, but the Abbot prayed them to tarry for a little,
since he would show them his chapter house and dormitory, and all the
offices of the Abbey. As the Abbot had sheltered them so courteously,
the husband did according to his wish.

Immediately that the dinner had come to an end, the pilgrims rose from
table, and visited the offices of the Abbey. Coming to the chapter
house they entered therein, and found a fair tomb, exceeding great,
covered with a silken cloth, banded with orfreys of gold. Twenty
torches of wax stood around this rich tomb, at the head, the foot, and
the sides. The candlesticks were of fine gold, and the censer swung in
that chantry was fashioned from an amethyst. When the pilgrims saw
the great reverence vouchsafed to this tomb, they inquired of the
guardians as to whom it should belong, and of the lord who lay
therein. The monks commenced to weep, and told with tears, that in
that place was laid the body of the best, the bravest, and the fairest
knight who ever was, or ever should be born. "In his life he was King
of this realm, and never was there so worshipful a lord. He was slain
at Caerwent for the love of a lady of those parts. Since then the
country is without a King. Many a day have we waited for the son of
these luckless lovers to come to our land, even as our lord commanded
us to do."

When the lady heard these words she cried to her son with a loud voice
before them all.

"Fair son," said she, "you have heard why God has brought us to this
place. It is your father who lies dead within this tomb. Foully was he
slain by this ancient Judas at your side."

With these words she plucked out the sword, and tendered him the
glaive that she had guarded for so long a season. As swiftly as she
might she told the tale of how Eudemarec came to have speech with his
friend in the guise of a hawk; how the bird was betrayed to his death
by the jealousy of her lord; and of Yonec the falcon's son. At the end
she fell senseless across the tomb, neither did she speak any further
word until the soul had gone from her body. When the son saw that his
mother lay dead upon her lover's grave, he raised his father's sword
and smote the head of that ancient traitor from his shoulders. In
that hour he avenged his father's d