yet come.

"Lady," said he, "the sorer grief is ours, for we are so anhungered,
that for a little our souls would leave our bodies."

The lady went out, and bade meat to be made ready. This she carried
in, giving to each a little, and to each a little drink. When they had
eaten, they had yet greater hunger than before. In this manner she fed
them, little by little, ten times a day, for she deemed that should
they eat to their desire, they would die of repletion. For this reason
she caused them to break their fast temperately. Thus the good lady
dealt with them for the first seven days, and at nights, by her grace,
they lay softly at their ease. She did away with their rags, and clad
them in seemly apparel. When the week was done she set before them
meat and drink to their heart's desire, so that their strength
returned to them again. They had chess and draughts, and played these
games to their great content. The Soudan was often with them. He
watched the play, and took pleasure in their gladness. But the lady
refrained, so that none might conceive, either by speech or fashion,
that he had known her before.

Now a short while after this matter of the captives, the story tells
that the Soudan had business enough of his own, for a mighty Sultan
laid waste his realm, and sought to do him much mischief. To avenge
his wrong the Soudan commanded his vassals from every place, and
assembled a great host. When the lady knew this, she entered the
chamber where the captives lay, and sitting amidst them lifted her
hand, and said, "Sirs, you have told me somewhat of your business; now
will I be assured whether you are true men or not. You told me that in
your own land you were once the Count of Ponthieu, that this man was
wedded to your daughter, and that this other was your son. Know that I
am a Saracen, having the science of astrology; so I tell you plainly
that you were never so near to a shameful death, as you are now, if
you hide from me the truth. What chanced to your daughter, the wife of
this knight?"

"Lady," replied the Count, "I deem her to be dead."

"How came she to her death?"

"Certes, lady," said the Count, "because for once she received her
deserts."

"Tell me of these deservings," said the dame.

Then the Count began to tell, with tears, of how she was wedded, but
was yet a barren wife; how the good knight vowed pilgrimage to my lord
St. James in Galicia, and how the lady prayed that she might go with
him