Right heavy was the King when he heard these words.  He conjured Graelent to tell him straightly if he knew a daintier dame.

“Yes, Sire, and thirty times more gracious than the Queen.”

The Queen was marvellously wrathful to hear this thing, and prayed her husband of his grace to compel the knight to bring that woman to the Court of whose beauty he made so proud a boast.

“Set us side by side, and let the choice be made between us.  Should she prove the fairer let him go in peace; but if not, let justice be done on him for his calumny and malice.”

So the King bade his guards to lay hands on Graelent, swearing that between them never should be love nor peace, nor should the knight issue forth from prison, until he had brought before him her whose beauty he had praised so much.

Graelent was held a captive.  He repented him of his hasty words, and begged the King to grant him respite.  He feared to have lost his friend, and sweated grievously with rage and mortification.  But though many of the King’s house pitied him in his evil case, the long days brought him no relief, until a full year went by, and once again the King made a great banquet to his barons and his lieges.  Then was Graelent brought to hall, and put to liberty on such terms that he would return bringing with him her whose loveliness he had praised before the King.  Should she prove so desirable and dear, as his boast, then all would be well, for he had naught to fear.  But if he returned without his lady, then he must go to judgment, and his only hope would be in the mercy of the King.

Graelent mounted his good horse, and parted from the Court sad and wrathful.  He sought his lodging, and inquired for his servant, but might not find him.  He called upon his friend, but the lady did not heed his voice.  Then Graelent gave way to despair, and preferred death to life.  He shut himself within his chamber, crying upon his dear one for grace and mercy, but from her he got neither speech nor comfort.  So seeing that his love had withdrawn herself from him by reason of his grievous fault, he took no rest by night or day, and held his life in utter despite.  For a full year he lived in this piteous case, so that it was marvellous to those about him that he might endure his life.

On the day appointed the sureties brought Graelent where the King was set in hall with his lords.  Then the King inquired of Graelent where was now his friend.

“Sire,” answered the knight, “she is not here, for in no wise might I find her.  Now do with me according to your will.”

“Sir Graelent,” said the King, “very foully have you spoken.  You have slandered the Queen, and given all my lords the lie.  When you go from my hands never will you do more mischief with your tongue.”

Then the King spoke with a high voice to his barons.

“Lords, I pray and command you to give judgment in this matter.  You heard the blame that Graelent set upon me before all my Court.  You know the deep dishonour that he fastened on the Queen.  How may such a disloyal vassal deal honestly with his lord, for as the proverb tells, ‘Hope not for friendship from the man who beats your dog!’”