Those who are willing to listen to fair words, may learn from this ensample, that he who seeks another’s ill often brings the evil upon himself.

As I have told you before, of this adventure the Bretons made the Lay of Equitan, the lady whom he loved, and of their end.

XII

THE LAY OF MILON

He who would tell divers tales must know how to vary the tune.  To win the favour of any, he must speak to the understanding of all.  I purpose in this place to show you the story of Milon, and—­since few words are best—­I will set out the adventure as briefly as I may.

Milon was born in South Wales.  So great was his prowess that from the day he was dubbed knight there was no champion who could stand before him in the lists.  He was a passing fair knight, open and brave, courteous to his friends, and stern to his foes.  Men praised his name in whatever realm they talked of gallant deeds—­Ireland, Norway, and Wales, yea, from Jutland even to Albania.  Since he was praised by the frank, he was therefore envied of the mean.  Nevertheless, by reason of his skill with the spear, he was counted a very worshipful knight, and was honourably entreated by many a prince in divers lands.

In Milon’s own realm there lived a lord whose name has gone from mind.  With this baron dwelt his daughter, a passing fair and gracious damsel.  Much talk had this maiden heard of Milon’s knightly deeds, so that she began to set her thoughts upon him, because of the good men spoke of him.  She sent him a message by a sure hand, saying that if her love was to his mind, sweetly would it be to her heart.  Milon rejoiced greatly when he knew this thing.  He thanked the lady for her words, giving her love again in return for her own, and swearing that he would never depart therefrom any day of his days.  Beyond this courteous answer Milon bestowed on the messenger costly gifts, and made him promises that were richer still.

“Friend,” said he, “of your charity I pray you that I may have speech with my friend, in such a fashion that none shall know of our meeting.  Carry her this, my golden ring.  Tell her, on my part, that so she pleases she shall come to me, or, if it be her better pleasure, I will go to her.”

The messenger bade farewell, and returned to his lady.  He placed the ring in her hand, saying that he had done her will, as he was bidden to do.

Right joyous was the damsel to know that Milon’s love was tender as her own.  She required her friend to come for speech within the private garden of her house, where she was wont to take her delight.  Milon came at her commandment.  He came so often, and so dearly she loved him, that in the end she gave him all that maid may give.  When the damsel perceived how it was with her, she sent messages to her friend, telling him of her case, and making great sorrow.

“I have lost my father and all his wealth,” said the lady, “for when he hears of this matter he will make of me an example.  Either I shall be tormented with the sword, or else he will sell me as a slave in a far country.”