So this doleful lady took a fair piece of white samite, broidered with gold, and wrought thereon the whole story of this adventure.  In this silken cloth she wrapped the body of the little bird, and calling to her a trusty servant of her house, charged him with the message, and bade him bear it to her friend.  The varlet went his way to the knight, and having saluted him on the part of the lady, he told over to him the story, and bestowed the nightingale upon him.  When all had been rehearsed and shown to him, and he had well considered the matter, the knight was very dolent; yet in no wise would he avenge himself wrongfully.  So he caused a certain coffret to be fashioned, made not of iron or steel, but of fine gold and fair stones, most rich and precious, right strongly clasped and bound.  In this little chest he set the body of the nightingale, and having sealed the shrine, carried it upon him whenever his business took him abroad.

This adventure could not long be hid.  Very swiftly it was noised about the country, and the Breton folk made a Lay thereon, which they called the Lay of the Laustic, in their own tongue.

VI

THE LAY OF SIR LAUNFAL

I will tell you the story of another Lay.  It relates the adventures of a rich and mighty baron, and the Breton calls it, the Lay of Sir Launfal.

King Arthur—­that fearless knight and courteous lord—­removed to Wales, and lodged at Caerleon-on-Usk, since the Picts and Scots did much mischief in the land.  For it was the wont of the wild people of the north to enter in the realm of Logres, and burn and damage at their will.  At the time of Pentecost, the King cried a great feast.  Thereat he gave many rich gifts to his counts and barons, and to the Knights of the Round Table.  Never were such worship and bounty shown before at any feast, for Arthur bestowed honours and lands on all his servants—­save only on one.  This lord, who was forgotten and misliked of the King, was named Launfal.  He was beloved by many of the Court, because of his beauty and prowess, for he was a worthy knight, open of heart and heavy of hand.  These lords, to whom their comrade was dear, felt little joy to see so stout a knight misprized.  Sir Launfal was son to a King of high descent, though his heritage was in a distant land.  He was of the King’s household, but since Arthur gave him naught, and he was of too proud a mind to pray for his due, he had spent all that he had.  Right heavy was Sir Launfal, when he considered these things, for he knew himself taken in the toils.  Gentles, marvel not overmuch hereat.  Ever must the pilgrim go heavily in a strange land, where there is none to counsel and direct him in the path.