Mylio—"What, Foulques! You are afraid! Your wife's warning has convinced you! You fear I may hurt you!"
Foulques of Bercy (emitting a cry of rage and furiously attacking the trouvere)—"You lie in your throat! Dog!"
Mylio (defending himself and goading Foulques of Bercy with biting mockery)—"I know Emmeline and I know she knows you. Did she not tell you more than once not to get heated lest your adversary whip you?"
Foulques of Bercy (fighting with redoubled impetuosity)—"Death and fury! I must have his life!"
Mylio (defending himself and still goading the Seigneur of Bercy with his irritating jests)—"She knows you so well for a coward that she made me promise her I would not tell on you when you ran away from a fight, or nicely swallowed an affront."
Goose-Skin (keeping safely entrenched behind the trouvere)—"Oxhorns! Control your tongue! He will have neither pity nor mercy for us! You are driving him so mad that he will have us broiled alive."
Foulques of Bercy (fighting with unabated fury and increased rage at being unable to wound Mylio)—"Blood of Christ! The vile vagabond manages his sword like a knight!"
The combat continues a while longer, with ferocity on the knight's part and imperturbable deliberation on the part of the trouvere, in the center of a circle that consists of the audience and the members of the Court, without either the trouvere or the knight being wounded. Both are strong men and dexterous in the use of weapons. The huge body of Goose-Skin, behind the trouvere, according as the latter's evolutions compel him to move over the ground, jumps hither and thither, backward and forward. His enormous paunch wobbles, he puffs for breath; he seems to be suffocating. Finally, the trouvere ably parries a terrible blow aimed at him by the seigneur and immediately plunges his sword into the knight's thigh. The knight roars with rage, staggers and drops backward upon the blood-stained sward. The witnesses to the combat hurry to bring aid to the vanquished, and for an instant forget the trouvere.
Goose-Skin (out of breath and still holding himself behind Mylio)—"Ouf! The big scamp gave us a deal of trouble before we could bring him down. But now, Mylio, take my advice. Let us profit by the tumult and pull our legs out of the trap."
Suddenly the loud sound of trumpets is heard at the further end of the avenue of trees, and almost immediately a large body of knights, armed cap-a-pie, wearing on their shoulders the cross of the Crusaders and covered with dust, are seen entering the avenue at a gallop. Among them, and also on horseback, is Abbot Reynier, the superior of the monks of Citeaux, clad in his white robe. Equerries follow the train bearing the banners of their respective seigneurs. Arrived at the bridge that intersects the broad avenue of trees, the seigneurs alight.