and then, as though in pity for her stress, drew from his bosom a document containing his vow to succour Christianity, as will appear later.  The Church manifested her joy, and seeing that my said seigneur had given his vow to Toison d’Or, she again burst forth forth into rhyme: 

      “’God be praised and highly served
        By thee, my son, the foremost peer in France. 
        Thy sumptuous bearing have I close observed
        Until it seemed thou wert reserved
        To bring me my deliverance. 
        Near and far I seek alliance
        And pray to God to grant thee grace
        To work His pleasure in thy place.

      “’0 every prince and noble, man and knight,
        Ye see your master pledged to worthy deed. 
        Abandon ease, abjure delight,
        Lift up your hand, each in his right,
        Offer God the savings from thy greed. 
        I take my leave, imploring each, indeed,
        To risk his life for Christian gain,
        To serve his God and ‘suage my pain.’

    “At this the giant led off the elephant and departed by the same
    way in which he had entered.

“When I had seen this entremets, that is, the Church and a castle on the back of such a strange beast, I pondered as to whether I could understand what it meant and could not make it out otherwise except that she had brought this beast, rare among us, in sign that she toiled and laboured in great adversity in the region of Constantinople, whose trials we know, and the castle in which she was signified Faith.  Moreover, because this lady was conducted by this mighty giant, armed, I inferred that she wished to denote her dread of the Turkish arms which had chased her away and sought her destruction.

    “As soon as this play was played out, the noble gentlemen, moved
    by pity and compassion, hastened to make vows, each in his own
    fashion.”

The vow of the Count of Charolais was as follows:  “I swear to God my creator, and to His glorious mother, to the ladies and to the pheasant, that, if my very redoubtable lord and father embark on this holy journey, and if it be his pleasure that I accompany him, I will go and will serve him as well as I can and know how to do.”

Other vows were less simple:  all kinds of fantastic conditions being appended according to individual fancy.  One gentleman decided never to go to bed on a Saturday until his pledge were accomplished.  Another that he would eat nothing on Fridays that had ever lived until he had had an opportunity of meeting the enemy hand to hand, and of attacking, at peril of his life, the banner of the Grand Turk.