not what to do. But whatever chanced
she would not renounce her passion, so often she required his love by
means of soft messages and costly gifts, but he refused them all. Then
the Queen turned from love to hate, and the greatness of her passion
became the measure of her wrath, for very evilly she spoke of Graelent
to the King. So long as the war endured Graelent remained in that
realm. He spent all that he had upon his company, for the King grudged
wages to his men. The Queen persuaded the King to this, counselling
him that by withholding the pay of the sergeants, Graelent might in no
wise flee the country, nor take service with another lord. So at the
end Graelent was wonderfully downcast, nor was it strange that he was
sad, for there remained nothing which he might pledge, but one poor
steed, and when this was gone, no horse had he to carry him from the
country.

It was now the month of May, when the hours are long and warm. The
burgess, with whom Graelent lodged, had risen early in the morning,
and with his wife had gone to eat with neighbours in the town. No one
was in the house except Graelent, no squire, nor archer, nor servant,
save only the daughter of his host, a very courteous maid. When the
hour for dinner was come she prayed the knight that they might sit at
board together. But he had no heart for mirth, and seeking out his
squire bade him bridle and saddle his horse, for he had no care to
eat.

"I have no saddle," replied the squire.

"Friend," said the demoiselle, "I will lend you bridle and saddle as
well."

So when the harness was done upon him, Graelent mounted his horse, and
went his way through the town, clad in a cloak of sorry fur, which
he had worn overlong already. The townsfolk in the street turned and
stared upon him, making a jest of his poverty, but of their jibes
he took no heed, for such act but after their kind, and seldom show
kindliness or courtesy.

Now without the town there spread a great forest, thick with trees,
and through the forest ran a river. Towards this forest Graelent rode,
deep in heavy thought, and very dolent. Having ridden for a little
space beneath the trees, he spied within a leafy thicket a fair white
hart, whiter even than snow on winter branches. The hart fled before
him, and Graelent followed so closely in her track that man and deer
presently came together to a grassy lawn, in the midst of which sprang
a fountain of clear, sweet water. Now in this fountai