When he heard this thing the Count had great content. He laughed in his heart and said,
"Thibault, I will grant her to the beggar, if it be to her mind."
"Sir," answered he, "thanks and gramercy. May God make it up to you."
Then went the Count to his daughter, and said,
"Fair daughter, I have promised you in marriage, so it go not against your heart."
"Sir," inquired the maid, "to whom?"
"In the name of God, to a loyal man, and a true man, of whom much is hoped; to a knight of my own household, Thibault of Dommare."
"Dear sir," answered the maiden sweetly, "if your county were a kingdom, and I were the king's only child, I would choose him as my husband, and gladly give him all that I had."
"Daughter," said the Count, "blessed be your pretty person, and the hour that you were born."
Thus was this marriage made. The Count of Ponthieu and the Count of St. Pol were at the feast, and many another honourable man besides. Great was the joy in which they met, fair was the worship, and marvellous the delight. The bride and groom lived together in all happiness for five years. This was their only sorrow, that it pleased not our Lord Jesus Christ that they should have an heir to their flesh.