Dorigen’s friends saw that the sea brought back her sorrow.  They led her then by rivers and springs, and took her to every lovely place they knew, from which there was no glimpse of the sea.

In the valley, to landward of the castle, lay many beautiful gardens.  One day in May, when the soft showers of spring had painted in brightest colors the leaves and flowers, they spent the whole day in the fairest of these gardens.  They had games there, and they dined under a spreading tree.  The breath of the fresh green leaves and the sweet scent of the flowers blew round them.

After dinner they began to dance and sing—­every one except Dorigen.  She had no heart to sing, and she would not dance because, of all who joined in the dance, not one was Arviragus.  But, though she would not dance, she watched her friends and sometimes forgot her sorrow for a little.

Among the dancers there was a young squire named Aurelius.  He was much beloved because he was young, and strong, and handsome.  Men thought him wise and good, but he was not always wise and good.

When the dancing was over, Aurelius came up to Dorigen and asked her to give him a beautiful jewel that she wore on her breast.  He said to her, “Madam, of what use is thy jewel to thee when thou wearest it on thy bosom?  Give it to me, and I will share with thee the price of it.”

Dorigen turned and gazed at him.

“Is this what thou dost wish?  I knew not what thou didst mean when thou didst look at me, but now I know.  Listen, this is all I have to say to thee.  I shall never part with my jewel, not though I were in rags and without food.”

Then she remembered how Arviragus had loved to see her wear her jewel, as she always did, on a chain of gold that he had given to her on her wedding day.  She thought of the sea that separated him from her, and of the cruel black rocks, and said in play: 

“Aurelius, I will freely give thee my jewel when thou dost remove every rock on the shore from end to end of Brittany.”

Then her anger at the selfishness of Aurelius rose again, and she bade him begone.

“Madam,” he said, “it is impossible to move the rocks.”

With that word he turned away, and went home to his own house.  There his brother Austin found him in a trance, for Aurelius wished Dorigen’s jewel more than he wished anything else on earth, and the thought that he could not get it made him so sad that he became dazed.  Austin carried him to bed, and tried to soothe him in his grief and vexation.

The jewel that Aurelius wished to get from Dorigen was no common one.  It had been given to her at her birth.  It was clear as crystal, but far more rare, and it shone in the daylight like the sun.  When Dorigen was a little child her mother told her of this wonderful stone.  She told her that it would bring her joy and peace and the love of all who were good and true, if she kept it bright and pure; but that, if she ever gave it away, she would lose her youth and her beauty, and would be hidden away from all her friends and left alone in the world.