But the Sieur Rudel came not, and she sent a messenger to inquire why he tarried, and the messenger brought word and said: 

“He is with the maiden Solita in the tower.”

Then the princess stumbled as though she were about to fall, and her women came about her.  But she waved them back with her hand, and so stood shivering for a little.  “The night blows cold,” she said; “I would the lamps were lit.”  And when her servants had lighted the council-chamber, she sent yet another messenger to Sieur Rudel, bidding him instantly come to her, and waited in great bitterness of spirit.  For she remembered how that she had promised to grant him the boon that he should ask, and much she feared that she knew what that boon was.

Now leave we the Princess Joceliande, and hie before her messenger to the chamber of Solita.  No pearls or purple robes had she to clad her beauty in, but a simple gown of white wool fastened with a silver girdle about the waist, and her hair she loosed so that it rippled down her shoulders and nestled round her ears and face.

Thither the Sieur Rudel came straight from the sea, and—­

“Love,” he said, kissing her, “it has been a weary waste of days and nights, and yet more weary for thee than for me.  For stern work was there ever to my hand—­ay, and well-nigh more than I could do; but for thee nought but to wait.”

“Yet, my dear lord,” she replied, “the princess did give me this mirror, wherein I could see myself from top to toe, and a great comfort has it been to me.”

So she spake, and the messenger from the princess brake in upon them, bidding the Sieur Rudel hasten to the council-chamber, for that the Princess Joceliande waited this long while for his coming.

“Now will I ask for the fulfilment of her promise,” said Rudel to Solita, “and to-night, sweet, I will claim thee before the whole Court.”  With that he got him from the chamber and, following the messenger, came to where the princess awaited him.

“Madame,” he said, “good tidings!  By God’s grace we have won the victory over your enemies.  Never again will they buzz like wasps about your coasts, but from this day forth they will pay you yearly truage.”

“Sir,” she replied, rebuking him shrewdly, “indeed you bring me good tidings, but you bring them over-late.  For here have I tarried for you this long while, and it beseems neither you nor me.”

“Madame,” he answered, “I pray you acquit me of the fault and lay the blame on Love.  For when sweet Cupid thrones a second queen in one’s heart beside the first, what wonder that a man forgets his duty?  And now I would that of your gentleness you would grant me your maiden Solita for wife.”

“That I may not,” returned Joceliande, stricken to the soul at that image of a second queen.  “A nameless child, and my handmaiden!  Sieur Rudel, it befits a man to look above him for a wife.”

“And that, madame,” he answered, “in very truth I do.  Moreover, though no man knows Solita’s parentage and place, yet must she be of gentle nurture, else had there been no silk sail to float her hitherwards; and so much it liketh you to grant my boon, for God’s love, I pray you, hold your promise.”