seeking a chance of doing Sir Amys an ill turn, had seen Belisante
leave the wood and go in search of Sir Amys. Creeping stealthily up to
them, he hid himself behind a clump of bushes and heard all that was
said. Cunningly he made his plan, and on the eighth day he waylaid the
duke and told him that Sir Amys was about to repay all the kindness
shown him by a secret marriage with the duke's daughter.

Sir Amys was keeping guard that day in the hall of the palace, when,
sword in hand, his liege lord stood before him charging him with
beguiling his daughter. In another moment Amys would have fallen dead,
but behind him was a little room, and into this he stepped, shutting the
door, so that the sword stuck in the hard wood as it came against it.
This mischance somewhat cooled the duke's anger, and, bidding Sir Amys
come out and speak with him, he again accused him of having sought to
steal away his daughter, whom he wished to betrothe to the emperor's
son.

Sir Amys was in sore straits. If he could have borne the penalty alone,
he would have suffered gladly whatever sentence the duke might have
passed on him; but this could not be. So, to save Belisante from her
father's wrath, he swore a great oath that there was no truth in that
tale, and, flinging down his glove, offered to fight any man whom the
duke should appoint, and prove his innocence on his body. Then the king
bade his steward pick up Sir Amys' glove, and fixed a morning, fourteen
days hence, when the two should meet in single combat.

Still it was not enough that Sir Amys and the steward should agree to
fight; it was needful also that sureties should be found, and such was
the steward's power at court that all men feared to come forward on
behalf of Sir Amys. The young man would have fared badly, and indeed
would at once have been thrown into prison, had not both Belisante and
her mother offered themselves as sureties for his presence when the day
arrived.

But not all the wiles of the fair Belisante could chase the gloom from
the face of Sir Amys. He never forgot that he had sworn a false oath,
and it was to no purpose that Belisante reminded him of all the ill
deeds done by the steward to him and others. 'This time,' he said sadly,
'_I_ have the wrong and _he_ the right, therefore I am afraid to fight,'
and no other answer could she wring from him.

Way out of the tangle there seemed none. Fight Sir Amys could not, with
the weight of a false oath on his s