“Wife,” answered the Soudan, “truly, yes; it pleases me well.”

The lady came to the Count.  She took him apart, and bidding the Saracens fall back, she inquired of him whence he was.

“Lady, I am from the kingdom of France, of a county that men call Ponthieu.”

When the lady heard this her bowels were moved.  Earnestly she demanded his name and race.

“Of a truth, lady, I have long forgotten my father’s house, for I have suffered such pain and anguish since I departed, that I would rather die than live.  But this you may know, that I—­even the man who speaks to you—­was once the Count of Ponthieu.”

The lady hearkened to this, but yet she made no sign.  She went from the Count, and coming to the Soudan, said,

“Husband, give me this captive as a gift, if such be your pleasure.  He knows chess and draughts and many fair tales to bring solace to the hearer.  He shall play before you, and we will make our pastime of his skill.”

“Wife,” answered the Soudan, “I grant him to you very willingly; do with him as you wish.”

The lady took the captive, and bestowed him in her chamber.  The gaolers sought another in his stead, and brought forth my lord Thibault, the husband to the dame.  He came out in tatters, for he was clothed rather in his long hair and great beard, than in raiment.  His body was lean and bony, and he seemed as one who had endured pain and sorrow enough, and to spare.  When the lady saw him she said to the Soudan,

“Husband, with this one also would I gladly speak, if so I may.”

“Wife,” answered the Soudan, “it pleases me well.”

The lady came to my lord Thibault, and inquired of him whence he was.

“Lady, I am of the realm of that ancient gentleman who was taken from prison before me.  I had his daughter to wife, and am his knight.”

The lady knew well her lord, so she returned to the Soudan, and said to him, “Husband, great kindness will you show me, if you give me this captive also.”

“Wife,” said the Soudan, “I grant him to you very willingly.”

She thanked him sweetly, and bestowed the gift in her chamber, with the other.

The archers hastened together, and drawing before the Soudan said, “Sire, you do us wrong, for the day is far spent.”

They went straight to the prison, and brought forth the son of the Count, shagged and filthy, as one who had not known of water for many a day.  He was a young man, so young that his beard had not come on him, but for all his youth he was so thin and sick and weak, that he scarce could stand upon his feet.  When the lady saw him she had compassion upon him.  She came to him asking whose son he was and of his home, and he replied that he was son to that gentleman, who was first brought out of the dungeon.  She knew well that this was her brother, but she made herself strange unto him.

“Husband,” said she to the Soudan, “verily you will shew kindness to your wife beyond measure if you grant me this captive.  He knows chess and draughts and other delights passing fair to see and hear.”