“Put spurs to your horse, and ride swiftly after our people.  Bid them await our coming, for foul it is for lady and knight to pass through this wood with so little company.”

The servitor went speedily, and Messire Thibault entered the forest.  He drew rein beside the two roads, for he knew not which to follow.

“Wife,” he said, “which way is ours?”

“Please God, the good,” she answered.

Now in this wood were robbers, who spoiled the fair way, and made wide and smooth the false, so that pilgrims should mistake and wander from the path.  Messire Thibault lighted from his horse.  He looked from one to the other, and finding the wrong way broader and more smooth than the true, he cried,

“Wife, come now; in the name of God, this.”

They had proceeded along this road for some quarter of a mile when the path grew strict and narrow, and boughs made dark the way.

“Wife,” said the knight, “I fear that we fare but ill.”

When he had thus spoken he looked before him, and marked four armed thieves, seated on four strong horses, and each bore lance in hand.  Thereupon he glanced behind him, and, lo, four other robbers, armed and set in ambush, so he said,

“Dame, be not affrighted of aught that you may see from now.”

Right courteously Sir Thibault saluted the robbers in his path, but they gave no answer to his greeting.  Afterwards he sought of them what was in their mind, and one replied that he should know anon.  The thief, who had thus spoken, drew towards my lord Thibault, with outstretched sword, thinking to smite him in the middle.  Messire Thibault saw the blow about to fall, and it was no marvel if he feared greatly.  He sprang forward nimbly, as best he might, so that the glaive smote the air.  Then as the robber staggered by, Sir Thibault seized him fiercely, and wrested the sword from his hand.  The knight advanced stoutly against those three from whom the thief had come.  He struck the foremost amidst the bowels, so that he perished miserably.  Then he turned and went again to that one who had first come against him with the sword, and slew him also.  Now it was decreed of God that after the knight had slain three of this company of robbers, that the five who were left, encompassed him round about, and killed his palfrey.  Sir Thibault tumbled flat upon his back, although he was not wounded to his hurt.  Since he had neither sword nor other harness he could do no more.  The thieves therefore stripped him to his very shirt, his boots and hosen, and binding him hand and foot with a baldrick, cast him into a thorn bush, right thick and sharp.  When they had done this they hastened to the lady.  From her they took her palfrey and her vesture, even to the shift.  Passing fair was the lady; she wept full piteously, and never was dame more sorrowful than she.  Now one of these bold robbers stared upon the lady, and saw that she was very fair.  He spoke to his companions in this fashion,