Hardly had the knight and the lady entered the tavern than there came four big swashbucklers—waggoners or drovers, or perhaps worse—who noisily entered the tavern, and demanded where was the bona roba that some ruffian had brought there, riding behind him on his horse, for they would drink with her, and amuse themselves with her.

The host who knew the knight well, and was aware that the rascals spake not the truth, told them gently that the girl was not what they imagined.

“Morbleu!” they replied; “if you do not bring her at once, we will batter down the door, and bring her by force in spite of the two of you.”

When the host heard this, and found that his explanation was no use, he named the knight, who was renowned through all that district, but unknown to many of the common people, because he had long been out of the country, acquiring honour and renown in wars in distant countries. The host told them also that the damsel was a young virgin, a relative of the knight, and of noble parentage.

“You can, messieurs,” he said, “without danger to yourself or others, quench your lust with many of the women who have come to the village on the occasion of the fête expressly for you and the like of you, and for God’s sake leave in peace this noble damsel, and think of the great danger that you run, the evil that you wish to commit and the small hope that you have of success.”

“Drop your sermons,” shouted the rascals, inflamed with carnal lust, “and bring her to us quietly; or if not we will cause a scandal, for we will bring her down openly, and each of us four will do as he likes with her.”

These speeches being finished, the good host went up to the chamber where the knight and the damsel were, and called the knight apart, and told him this news, which when he had heard, without being troubled in the least, he went down wearing his sword, to talk to the four swashbucklers, and asked them politely what they wanted?

And they, being foul-mouthed and abusive blackguards, replied that they wanted the bona roba that he kept shut up in his chamber, and that, if he did not give her up quietly, they would take her from him by force.

“Fair sirs,” said the knight, “if you knew me well you would be aware that I should not take about women of that sort. I have never done such a folly, thank God. And even if I ever did—which God forbid—I should never do it in this district, where I and all my people are well known—my nobility and reputation would not suffer me to do it. This damsel is a young virgin, a near relative, related also to a noble house, and we are travelling for our pleasure, accompanied by my servants, who although they are not here at present, will come directly, and I am waiting for them. Moreover, do not flatter yourselves that I should be such a coward as to let her be insulted, or suffer injury of any kind; but I would protect and defend her as long as my strength endured, and until I died.”

Before the knight had finished speaking, the villains interrupted him, and in the first place denied that he was the person he said, because he was alone, and that knight never travelled without a great number of servants. Therefore they recommended him, if he were wise, to bring the girl down, otherwise they would take her by force, whatever consequences might ensue.