Old French Romances

who loved much chivalry and the world, an

a much good dame, and a valiant woman of much avail, who was Dame of Dontmart in Ponthieu. The said dame had a son, Thibault by name, who was heir of the country of St. Pol, but a poor man so

er, much good and of much avail, the which waxed in great beauty and multiplied in much good; and she was of well sixtee

gentle; and in a little while the Count had of the said lady a son, whom he loved much

oned him, and retained him of his meney; and when he had him of his meney he was much jo

the best?" "Sir," said Messire Thibault, "I am but a poor man, but, as God may help me, of all the jewels of thy land I love none so much as my damosel, thy daughter." The Count, w

said he, "to a much valiant man, of much avail: to a knight of mine, who hath to name Thibault of Dontmart." "Ha," sir, said she, "if thy country were a kingdom, and sho

great joy were they assembled, in great lordship and in great mirth: and in great joy dwelt those together for five years. B

rsooth no heir of our flesh may we have, whereby God might be served, and good be done to the world." Therewith he thought on my lord St. Jakeme,

when I have it." "Sir," she said, "if I may give it, I will give it, whatso it may be." "Dame," he said, "I crave leave of thee to go to my lord St. Jacque the Apostle, that he may pray our Lord Jesus C

ogether in bed on a night, and then said the dame: "Sir, I pray and require of thee a gift." "Dame," said he, "as

e way is much longsome, and the land is much strange and much diverse." She said: "Sir, doubt thou nought of me, for of suc

d he, "that is sooth." "Thibault," said the Count, "concerning thee it is well, but concerning my daughter it is heavy on me." "Sir," said Messire Thibault, "I might not naysay her." "Thibault," said t

joy; and they went so far by their journeys, that

t road they should find, and what like it might be; and he said to him: "Fair sir, at the going forth from this town ye shall find somewhat of

re he called his chamberlain, and said: "Arise now, and do our meyney to truss and go their ways, and thou shalt abide with me and truss our

issued out of the town, they three, without more company but only God, and drew nigh to the forest; and whenas they came thither, they found two ways, one good, and the other bad. Then Messi

orest, and came on the sundering ways, and knew not by which to wend. So he sai

Messire Thibault lighted down, and looked on the way, and found the false way bigger and wider than the good; so he said: "Come dame, a-God's name, this is it." So they

m, and saw other four in other fashion armed and arrayed; and he said: "Dame, be not abashed at anything thou mayst see now from henceforward." Then Messire Thibault greeted thos

it; but he swerved from the stroke as best he might, and that one missed him; and as he passed by him Messire Thibault threw himself under the glaive, and took it from the strong thief, and bestirred him agains

ack without any wound to grieve him: he had neither sword nor any other armour to help him. So the strong- thieves took his raiment from him, all to his sh

palfrey and all her raiment, right to her smock; and she was much fair, an

y cousin-german; therefore I claim as much as thou herein: yea, and another such right have I." And even in such wise said the third and the fourth and the fifth; but at last said one: "In the holding of this Lady ye

len her; for he wotted well that it had been perforce and against the will of her. The Lady was much sorrowful, and all ashamed. So Messire Thibault called to

t, and went toward her lord, full of great ire and evil will of that which was befallen. For she doubted much that he would have her in despite for

more. Therefore so hardly he quaked, that the hands and the fingers of him; were sundered; and in such wise she smote him that she but hurt him a little, and sheared the thongs wherewith he was bound; and whe

ood, there found he a great part of his company, which was come to meet him and when they saw them thus naked, they asked of him: "Sir, who hath thus arrayed you?" But he told them that they had fallen

a good town, and there they harboured. Messire Thibault asked of his host if there were any house of religion anigh thereto, where one m

ey granted it to him much willingly. Messire Thibault left of his meney there to serve the Lady, and went his ways, and did his pilgrimage the best he might. And when he had done his pilgrimage fair and well, he returned, a

he Count of Ponthieu, the father of the Lady, and there also was the Count of St. Pol, who was uncle unto my lord Thi

said to him: "Thibault, fair son, he who long way wendeth heareth much, and seeth of adventures, whereof nought they know who s

sire Thibault answered him: "Sir, since tell I needs must, I will tell thee; but so please thee, let it not be within earshot of so much folk." The Count answered and said that it so pleased h

it had befallen: and the Count, who was much sage and right thoughtful, asked what the knight had done with the Lady; and he answered that the knight had broug

" "Thibault," said the Count, "knowest thou who was the knight?" "Sir," said Messire Thibault, "yet again I pray thee that thou acquit me of naming the knight to whom this adventure betid: know of a verity that in naming him lieth no great gain." "Thibault," said the Count, "know that it is not my pleasure that thou hide it." "Sir," said Thibault, "then will I tell the same, since I may not be acquitte

ty that I am the knight unto whom this adventure betid. And wot thou that I was sore grieving and abashed in my heart; and wot thou well that ne

nd spake no word; and when he spoke, he said: "Thibault, then to my daughter it was that this adventure betid?" "Sir," s

and she asked, "What?" and he answered: "This, that thou wouldest have slain him, even as he hath told it?" "Sir," she said, "yea." "And wherefore

Count let array a strong craft and a trim, and did do the Lady enter therein; and withal let lay therein a tun, all new, strong, and great, and thick. Then they entered into the said ship, all three, without

her to enter in the tun, would she, would she not; and then let head up the tun again straightway, and dight it well, and let redo the staves, and stop it well, that the water might not enter in

ercy, that from out of that tun they might take her and deliver her. But the Count, who was much wroth and full of ire, would not grant it them for any thing that they might do

esus Christ, who is the Sovereign Father of us all, and who willeth not the death of sinners, be they he or she, but that they may turn them from their

his fellows were well come aland, saw the tun floating even as the winds and waves led it. So said one of the merchants to his fellows: "

in such case as though her hour were waning, for air failed her. Her body was big, her visage all swollen, and her eyes ugly and troubled. But when she saw the air, and felt the wind, she sighed a little, and the merchants stood about her and called unto her, but she had no might to speak. But at last the heart came aback to her, and speech withal, and she spoke to the merchants and other folk whom she saw around her; and much she marvelled when she found hers

nd a poor sinner, even as they might behold; and that by much cruel adventure was she thither come; and for God's sake

Saracens came to meet them, and they answered that they were merchants who led divers merchandise by many lands; and that they ha

ith her; and one said that they should sell her; and another said: "If I may be trowed, we shall

nd array the Lady much richly, and so gave her to the Soudan, who received the Lady much joyously and with much good-will, for right

therefor. Much he loved the Lady withal, and he let serve her honourably. Well wa

gentle lineage. He let ask of her if she were Christian, and that if she would leave her law he would take her to wife, for no wife had he as yet. She saw well that better it were to come thereto by love than by force, so she answered that so woul

dan was right glad, and made much great joy. And the dame was ever of good fellowship with the folk,

nd had a daughter, who anon became much fair and much wise, and in all lordliness

eu, and to the son of the Count, and to Messire Thibault of Dontmart, who were sore grieving for the Lady who had been thuswise cast i

, and heavy thought of his daughter, and much he doubted him of the sin which he had done. Messire Thibault durst not to wed him; nor did the son of the Count eithe

his lord the Count crossed, he confessed him and crossed him withal. Likewise, when the son of the Count saw his father crossed, and Messire Thibault also, whom he loved much, he also crossed himself. And when the Count saw his son crossed, he was much grieved, and said: "Fair son,

ult and the son of the Count dight their matters, and they took to the way with much great safe-conduct. They came in the Land of Over Sea safe of b

the Temple, and of the land, and much they thanked him for the honour which he had brought them. He came to Acre with his fellows, and they went aboard ship, and departed from the haven with right good wind at will; but it endured but for a little; for when they were on the high sea, then did a wind mighty and horrible fall upon them unawares; and the

t the Land of Aumarie, and said unto the Count: "Sir, what is thy pleasure that we do? for if we go yonder, we shall be all taken and fall into the hands of the Saracens." The Count

all their havings: the Soudan departed them, and sent them to divers places of his prisons. The Count of Ponthieu and his son and Messire Thibault were so strongly bound together that they might not be sundered. The Soudan commanded that they should be laid in a prison by them

much mightily, and made great joy for his birthd

m what it was, and they said: "Sir, a captive Christian to set up at the butts." So he granted it to them whereas

; and when the Soudan saw him in so poor estate, he said to them: "This one

oon as she saw him, the blood and the heart was stirred within her, not so much for that she knew him, but rather that nature constrained her. Then said the Lady to the

acens to draw aback, and asked him of whence he was, and he said: "La

rtes, dame," said he, "it may not import to me of what kin I be, for I have suffered so many pains and griefs since I de

captive, if it please thee, for he knoweth the chess and the tables, and fair tales withal, which shall please thee much; and he shall play

at beard; he was lean and fleshless, as one who had suffered pain and dolour enough. When the Lady saw him, she said unto the Soudan: "Sir, again with this one would I willingly speak, if it please thee." "Dame," said the Soudan,

dness wilt thou do unto me if thou wilt give me this one also." "Dame," said he, "with a good w

r and dishevelled, as one who had not been washen a while. Young man he was, so that he had not yet a beard; but so lean he was, and so sick and feeble, that scarce might he hold him up. And when the Lady saw him, she

; for he knows the chess and the tables, and all other games, which much shall please thee to see and to hear

d brought forth another; and the Lady departed thence, whereas she knew him not. So was he led to his martyrdom, and our Lord Jesus Chris

hen she went close up to them, and made them sign of friendship. And the Count, who was right sage, asked thereon: "Dame, when shall they slay us?" And she answer

had taken it, then had they yet greater hunger than afore. Thuswise she gave them to eat, ten times the day, by little and little; for s

trengthened them little by little and more and more; and then she let bring them victuals and drink to their contentment, and in such wise that they were so strong that she abandoned to them the victual and the drink withal. They had chequers and tables, and pl

the chamber whereas were the prisoners, and she sat down before them, and spoke to them, and said: "Lords, ye have told me of your matters a deal; now would I wot whether that which ye have told me be true or not: for ye told me that thou wert Count of Ponthieu on the day that thou departedst therefrom,

she?" quoth she. "Certes, Lady," said the Count, "by an occasion

and five were left, who fell upon him and slew his palfrey, and took the knight and stripped him to the shirt, and bound him hand and foot, and cast him into a briar-bush: and the Lady they stripped, and took from her her palfrey. They beheld the Lady, and saw that she was full fair, and each one would have her. At the last, they accorded betwixt them hereto, that they should lie with her, and they had their will of her in her despite; and when they had so done they went their ways, and she abode, much grieving and much sad. The good knight beheld it, and said much sweetly: "Dame, now unbind

ooth; and well I know wherefore she would to do it." "Dame," said the Count, "an

fault had she therein then, Lady? So may God give me deliverance from this prison wherein I a

eased God," said the Lady, "that she were alive, and that ye might have of her true tidings, what would ye say thereto?" "Lady," said the Count, "then were I gladder than I should be to be delivered out of this prison, or to have so much riches as never had I in my life." "Dame," said Messire Thib

feigning in your words." And they answered and said that none there was. Then fell the Lady a-weeping tenderly, and said to them: "Sir, now mayest thou well say that thou art

ut were presently dead. Wherefore I pray you and bid you, for as dear as ye hold your lives and honours, and your havings the greater, that ye never once, whatso ye may hear or see, make any more fair semblance unto me, but hold you simply. So leave me to deal therewith. Now shall I tell you wherefore I have uncovered me to you. The So

would not dare trust me to him, lest he do me some treason." "Sir," she said, "in surety mayest thou lead him along; for I will hold the others." "D

go with him. Now bethink thee to do well." But her brother kneeled before her, and prayed her that she would do

while the enemy of the Soudan was brought under, whereof much was the Soudan rejoiced; he had the victory, and led away much folk with him. And so soon as he was come back, he went to the Lady, and said: "Dame, by my law, I much praise thy prisoner, for much well hath he served me; and if he will cast aside his law an

perceive not our counsel; for, if God please, we

infirmity, nor ever since thy departure have I eaten aught wherein was any savour to me." "Dame," said he, "I am heavy of thy sickness, but much joyous that thou

th said to me, that but I be presently upon earth of a right nature, I am but dead and that I may not live long." "Dame," said the Soudan, "nought will I thy dea

ey shall play at the chess and the tables; and my son will I take to pleasure me." "Dame," said he, "it pleaseth me well that thou do thy will herein. But what hap with the third prisoner?" "Sir

h he prayed her to come back speedily. The ship was apparelled, and

is bringing straight to Brandis; now command us thy pleasure to go thither or elsewhere." And she said to th

h great joy. The Lady, who was much wise, drew towards the prisoners, and said to them: "Lords, I would that ye call to mind the words and agreements which ye said to me, and I would be now all sure of

hall not be held toward you by us loyally; and know by our Christendom and our Baptism,

oudan; what shall we do with him?" "Dame, let him come to great honour and great gladness." "Lords," said the La

oved much, and that I have cast forth from prison my father, my husband, and my brother." And when the mariners heard that, they were much grieving; but more they migh

their ways thence, and came to Rome. The Count went before the Apostle, and his fellowship with him. Each one confessed him the best that he could; and when the Apostle heard it, he was much glad, and much great cheer he made of them. He baptized the child, and

red them; and he gave them his blessing, and commended them to God. So went they in great joy and in great pleasance, an

rn, and were received in great procession by the bishops and the abbots, a

, her husband, and her brother from the hands of the Saracens, even as ye have heard. But now leave we of the

em to Brandis returned at their speediest; they

abode; and for this adventure the less he loved his daughter, who had abided there, and honoured her the less. Notwithstanding, the damsel

his prisoners who thus had escaped, and it returneth to the Count of Ponthieu, who was

d fair gifts he gave to poor knights and poor gentle dames of the country, and much was prized and loved of poor and of rich. For a worthy he was, and a good

mandy, who was called my lord Raoul de Preaux. This Raoul had a daughter much fair and much wise. The Count spake so much to my lord Raoul and to his friends, that he made the wedding betwixt William his nephew, son

hom we have told so much good, died but a little thereafter, whereof was made great dole throughout all the land. The Count of St. Pol lived yet, and now were the two sons of my lord Thibault heirs of those two countries, and th

uch valiant, who served the Soudan (Malakin of Baudas was he called), this Malakin saw the damsel to be courteous and sage, and much good had heard tell of her; wherefore he coveted her in his heart, and came to the Soudan and said

the thing be a thing which I may give thee, saving my honour, know verily that thou shalt have it." "Sir," said he, "well I will that thine honour shall be

ou hast craved me a great thing, for I love much my daughter, and no heir else have I, as thou wottest well, and as sooth is. She is born and come from the most highest kindred and the most valiant of France; for her mothe

hand, and said: "Hold, Malakin! I give her to thee." He received her gladly, and in great joy and in great honour of all his friends; and he wedded her according to the Saracen law; and he led her into his land in great joy and in

received with great joy by all his friends; and they twain lived together

as born the mother of the courteous Turk Salaha

a, done out of ancient French

nd