The Queen heard Graelent gladly, finding him so tripping of tongue, and since his words were wise and courteous, at the end she discovered to him her heart.

“Friend, Sir Graelent, though I am a wife, yet have I never loved my lord.  But I love you very dearly, and what I have asked of you will you not go before to grant?”

“Lady,” said he, “give me pity and forgiveness, but this may not be.  I am the vassal of the King, and on my knees have pledged him loyalty and faith, and sworn to defend his life and honour.  Never shall he have shame because of me.”

With these words Sir Graelent took his leave of the Queen, and went his way.

Seeing him go in this fashion the Queen commenced to sigh.  She was grieved in her heart, and knew not what to do.  But whatever chanced she would not renounce her passion, so often she required his love by means of soft messages and costly gifts, but he refused them all.  Then the Queen turned from love to hate, and the greatness of her passion became the measure of her wrath, for very evilly she spoke of Graelent to the King.  So long as the war endured Graelent remained in that realm.  He spent all that he had upon his company, for the King grudged wages to his men.  The Queen persuaded the King to this, counselling him that by withholding the pay of the sergeants, Graelent might in no wise flee the country, nor take service with another lord.  So at the end Graelent was wonderfully downcast, nor was it strange that he was sad, for there remained nothing which he might pledge, but one poor steed, and when this was gone, no horse had he to carry him from the country.

It was now the month of May, when the hours are long and warm.  The burgess, with whom Graelent lodged, had risen early in the morning, and with his wife had gone to eat with neighbours in the town.  No one was in the house except Graelent, no squire, nor archer, nor servant, save only the daughter of his host, a very courteous maid.  When the hour for dinner was come she prayed the knight that they might sit at board together.  But he had no heart for mirth, and seeking out his squire bade him bridle and saddle his horse, for he had no care to eat.

“I have no saddle,” replied the squire.

“Friend,” said the demoiselle, “I will lend you bridle and saddle as well.”

So when the harness was done upon him, Graelent mounted his horse, and went his way through the town, clad in a cloak of sorry fur, which he had worn overlong already.  The townsfolk in the street turned and stared upon him, making a jest of his poverty, but of their jibes he took no heed, for such act but after their kind, and seldom show kindliness or courtesy.