"Lady, for God's love, tell me truly, when my lord went to Compostella did he leave you a maid?"
"Why ask you such a question, Dame Hersent?"
"Because, lady, I believe you to be a virgin wife!"
"Certes, Dame Hersent, and that I am, nor do I know woman who would be aught else in my case."
"Lady," returned Dame Hersent, "ah, the pity of it! If you but knew the joy that women have in company of the man they love, you would say that there is no fonder happiness to be found on earth. Greatly I marvel, therefore, that you love not, par amours, seeing that every lady loveth with her friend. Were the thing but pleasing to you, fair falleth the chance, for well I know a knight, comely of person, sweet and wise of speech, who asks naught better than to set on you his love. Very rich is he, and lovelier far than the shamed recreant who has left you in this plight. If you are not too fearful to grant him grace, you can have of him all that you please to ask, and such joy moreover as no lady can hope for more."
Whilst the crone was speaking, the lady, who was but a woman, felt her senses stir within. Curiously she inquired who this knight should be.
"Who is he, lady? God above! one has no fear to cry his name! Who should it be but that lovely lord, so courteous, so bold, Messire Raoul, of your father's house, the sweetest heart of all the world."
"Dame Hersent," said the lady, "you will do well to let these words be, for I have no wish to do myself such wrong, neither come I of such stock as goes after shame."
"Dame," replied the old woman, "I know it well; but never can you have the joy of maid with man."