"That won't be necessary, Tirant," said the infanta, "because in the house of my father, my brother, the infante, and myself, there will be no lack of people to serve him."
Seeing how angrily she spoke, Tirant realized that they did not want him, and he left with the others for his lodging. When they had gone, two pages came with torches and asked Philippe if it was his desire to go to sleep. And he answered that he would do whatever his lady, the infanta, and her brother commanded. They said that it was time now. Philippe bowed to the infanta and followed the pages, who led him to a room where there were two beds.
The king had ordered a very special canopy made entirely of brocade, to be given to his daughter on her wedding day, and he had another placed in a room to serve as its model. When the brocade canopy was finished, the two beds were placed next to each other, and the coverlet was of the same brocade. And on it they put the sheets for the wedding, with embroidered pillows, so that it was an exceptional bed. The other bed in the same room was entirely white, and there was a great difference between the two.
When Philippe saw such a luxurious bed he was astonished, and he thought it better to lie down on the other one. That evening, while dancing, he had slightly torn his stocking, and he thought that his servants would not come as soon as he would get up in the morning. The pages had been well instructed by the infanta, who was in a place where she could see very well what Philippe would do. Philippe said to one of the pages:
"Please go bring me a needle and a little bit of white thread."
The infanta had seen him give orders to the page but she did not know what he was asking for. Then the page went to the infanta, and she had them give him a needle with a little thread. The page took it to him, and found him pacing from one end of the room to the other, and he did not say one word to the second page who was there.
When Philippe had the needle he went to a torch and opened a blister that was on his hand. The infanta immediately thought he had asked for the needle because of the blister. He put it on the bed where he had decided to sleep. Philippe then took off his clothing and sat on the bed. After the pages had removed his stockings, Philippe told them to go to sleep and to leave a torch lit for him.
They did so, closing the door. Philippe got up from where he was sitting in order to get the needle and sew his stocking, and he began to look for it from one end of the bed to another. He gloomily lifted the coverlet, and he twisted and turned it so much that it fell on the floor. Then he lifted up the sheets and tore the entire bed apart without finding the needle. He thought about making up the bed again and sleeping in it; but when he saw it all undone, he said to himself:
"Oh well. Won't it be better for me to sleep in the other one instead of making this one up again?"
A very singular needle was that for Philippe. He lay down in the bed of rich covers. The infanta, who had seen the entire display, said to her maidens: