"God bless you also," answered one who was more fluent of tongue than his companions.
"Fair child," said she, "do you know Aucassin, the son of Count Garin of this realm?"
"Yes, we know him well."
"So God keep you, pretty boy," said she, "as you tell him that within this wood there is a fair quarry for his hunting; and if he may take her he would not part with one of her members for a hundred golden marks, nor for five hundred, nay, nor for aught that man can give."
Then looking upon her steadfastly, their hearts were troubled, the maid was so beautiful.
"Will I tell him?" cried he who was readier of word than his companions. "Woe to him who speaks of it ever, or tells Aucassin what you say. You speak not truth but faery, for in all this forest there is no beast—neither stag, nor lion, nor boar—one of whose legs would be worth two pence, or three at the very best, and you talk of five hundred marks of gold. Woe betide him who believes your story, or shall spread it abroad. You are a fay, and no fit company for such as us, so pass upon your road."
"Ah, fair child," answered she, "yet you will do as I pray. For this beast is the only medicine that may heal Aucassin of his hurt. And I have here five sous in my purse, take them, and give him my message. For within three days must he hunt this chace, and if within three days he find not the quarry, never may he cure him of his wound."
"By my faith," said he, "we will take the money, and if he comes this way we will give him your message, but certainly we will not go and look for him."
"As God pleases," answered she.