“By my faith,” she said, “I am fallen into a deep ditch, and sorrow has come upon me.  I love Eliduc, the good knight, whom my father made his Seneschal.  I love him so dearly that I turn the whole night upon my bed, and cannot close my eyes, nor sleep.  If he assured me of his heart, and loved me again, all my pleasure should be found in his happiness.  Great might be his profit, for he would become King of this realm, and little enough is it for his deserts, so courteous is he and wise.  If he have nothing better than friendship to give me, I choose death before life, so deep is my distress.”

When the princess had spoken what it pleased her to say, the chamberlain, whom she had bidden, gave her loyal counsel.

“Lady,” said he, “since you have set your love upon this knight, send him now—­if so it please you—­some goodly gift-girdle or scarf or ring.  If he receive the gift with delight, rejoicing in your favour, you may be assured that he loves you.  There is no Emperor, under Heaven, if he were tendered your tenderness, but would go the more lightly for your grace.”

The damsel hearkened to the counsel of her chamberlain, and made reply, “If only I knew that he desired my love!  Did ever maiden woo her knight before, by asking whether he loved or hated her?  What if he make of me a mock and a jest in the ears of his friends!  Ah, if the secrets of the heart were but written on the face!  But get you ready, for go you must, at once.”

“Lady,” answered the chamberlain, “I am ready to do your bidding.”

“You must greet the knight a hundred times in my name, and will place my girdle in his hand, and this my golden ring.”

When the chamberlain had gone upon his errand, the maiden was so sick at heart, that for a little she would have bidden him return.  Nevertheless, she let him go his way, and eased her shame with words.

“Alas, what has come upon me, that I should put my heart upon a stranger.  I know nothing of his folk, whether they be mean or high; nor do I know whether he will part as swiftly as he came.  I have done foolishly, and am worthy of blame, since I have bestowed my love very lightly.  I spoke to him yesterday for the first time, and now I pray him for his love.  Doubtless he will make me a song!  Yet if he be the courteous gentleman I believe him, he will understand, and not deal hardly with me.  At least the dice are cast, and if he may not love me, I shall know myself the most woeful of ladies, and never taste of joy all the days of my life.”

Whilst the maiden lamented in this fashion, the chamberlain hastened to the lodging of Eliduc.  He came before the knight, and having saluted him in his lady’s name, he gave to his hand the ring and the girdle.  The knight thanked him earnestly for the gifts.  He placed the ring upon his finger, and the girdle he girt about his body.  He said no more to the chamberlain, nor asked him any questions; save only that he proffered him a gift.  This the messenger might not have, and returned the way he came.  The chamberlain entered in the palace and found the princess within her chamber.  He greeted her on the part of the knight, and thanked her for her bounty.