“But, my Lord, what comfort is there for me, when one who gave me happiness and thee, is in danger of his life, and for no wrongdoing, neither?”
“Dear heart,” answered my Lord the Due, “I too love him, since he brought thee to me, and what man can do, that will I for thy sake and his.”
“If he be not saved, then will I sorrow always,” wept my Duchess.
My Lord Duc went forth, and though the King was only at times come to his wits again, my Lord got from him a command that the Seigneur de la Rivière should be sent overseas, and not slain.
This did but half content my mistress. When the King grew well again, my Duchess plead with him so prettily, that as he loved right well to pleasure her, he allowed the Seigneur de la Rivière to come home, and to him restored all his castles and his wealth. Greatly my mistress rejoiceth, and giveth thanks to both her Lord and the King.
Now the Seigneur, when once more in honour and in wealth he came to his home, in token for his thanks for all she had wrought in his behalf, brought to my mistress a coffer filled with rich gifts. The coffer was in itself a marvel, since it was painted all over with little flying boys, who bore in their hands flowers and wreaths. All the rest of it was like unto gold, and it stood upon four feet cut in the shape of great paws.
When the coffer was opened, there seemeth no end to the splendid things my mistress brought forth,—tissues glistening like moonbeans, wrought stuffs of many colours, and chains and jewels. Chiefest amongst the rich treasures was a length of velvet from the great city called Genoa, the mate to which was not in all the court. It was blue in colour, the which my mistress ever loveth,—just the shade of the sky of a sunny day at noon. Wrought all over it in threads of purest silver were flying doves. My faith, it seemeth as if their long wings fairly moved!
“Oh,” cried my Duchess Eleonore, “never was such a lovely robe seen before, and it cometh just in time, too, since the ball that Queen Blanche giveth to the Queen’s maid on her marriage will be shortly.”
My Duchess had the velvet fashioned into a robe so splendid that all marvelled. It fell from her shoulders and flowed three metres’ length upon the floor, and the doves of silver fluttered and shone with every step she taketh. Above her brow rose the tall hennin that Queen Isabeau so loved to wear and to have the ladies of her court wear also, and from this fell a veil of silver like unto the doves.
The night of the ball was at hand, and none looking on my stately Duchess would deem that she had but fifteen years. So heavy was the robe, and of such length, that as I walked behind I bore it for her.