plucked forth his sword, and sheltered him beneath his shield.  They struck such mighty blows that the bucklers were hewn in pieces, but in spite of all they remained firm in the saddle.  The maiden was aghast whilst she watched the melee.  She had great fear for her friend, lest mischief should befall him, and she cried loudly to the knight that, for grace, he should give over this combat, and go his way.  Very courteous was the knight, and meetly schooled in what was due to maidens.  He saluted the damsel, and, together with his companion, rode straightway from the ford.  The prince watched them pass for a little, then without further tarrying he went swiftly to the maiden, where, all fearful and trembling, she knelt beneath the thorn.  The lady stood upon her feet as her lover drew near.  She climbed behind him on the saddle, for well she knew that their pains were done.  They fared so fast that when it was yet scarce day they came again to the palace.  The King saw them approach, and rejoiced greatly at his son’s prowess; but at this he marvelled much, that he should return with the daughter of the Queen.

The self-same day of this home-coming—­as I have heard tell—­the King had summoned to Court his barons and vassals because of a certain quarrel betwixt two of his lords.  This quarrel being accorded between them, and come to a fair end, the King related to that blithe company the story of this adventure.  He told again that which you know, of how the prince defended the Ford, of the finding of the maiden beneath the thorn, of the mighty joust, and of that white horse which was taken from the adversary.

The prince both then and thereafter caused the horse to be entreated with the greatest care.  He received the maiden to wife, and cherished her right tenderly.  She, and the steed on which she would always ride, were his richest possessions.  The destrier lived many years in much honour, but on a day when his master was taking the harness from his head, he fell and died forthwith.

Of the story which has been set before you the Bretons wrought a Lay.  They did not call the song the Lay of the Ford, although the adventure took place at a river; neither have they named it The Lay of the Two Children.  For good or ill the rhyme is known as the Lay of the Thorn.  It begins well and endeth better, for these kisses find their fruition in marriage.

XV

THE LAY OF GRAELENT

Now will I tell you the adventure of Graelent, even as it was told to me, for the Lay is sweet to hear, and the tune thereof lovely to bear in mind.