God’s Mother who to many a wretch
 Has brought relief from wretchedness. 
 By her infinite goodness,
 By her courteous courteousness,
 To her suppliant in distress
 Came from heaven quickly down;
 On her head she bore the crown,
 Full of precious stones and gems
 Darting splendour, flashing flames,
 Till the eye near lost its sight
 In the keenness of the light,
 As the summer morning’s sun
 Blinds the eyes it shines upon. 
 So beautiful and bright her face,
 Only to look on her is grace.

“She who has caused you thus to sigh,
 And has brought you to this end,”—­
 Said Our Lady,—­“Tell me, friend,
 Is she handsomer than I?”
 Scared by her brilliancy, the knight
 Knows not what to do for fright;
 He clasps his hands before his face,
 And in his shame and his disgrace
 Falls prostrate on the ground with fear;
 But she with pity ever near
 Tells him:—­“Friend, be not afraid! 
 Doubt not that I am she whose aid
 Shall surely bring your love to you;
 But take good care what you shall do! 
 She you shall love most faithfully
 Of us two, shall your mistress be.”

One is at a loss to imagine what a young gentleman could do, in such a situation, except to obey, with the fewest words possible, the suggestion so gracefully intended.  Queen’s favours might be fatal gifts, but they were much more fatal to reject than to accept.  Whatever might be the preferences of the knight, he had invited his own fate, and in consequence was fortunate to be allowed the option of dying and going to heaven, or dying without going to heaven.  Mary was not always so gentle with young men who deserted or neglected her for an earthly rival;—­the offence which irritated her most, and occasionally caused her to use language which hardly bears translation into modern English.  Without meaning to assert that the Queen of Heaven was jealous as Queen Blanche herself, one must still admit that she was very severe on lovers who showed willingness to leave her service, and take service with any other lady.  One of her admirers, educated for the priesthood but not yet in full orders, was obliged by reasons of family interest to quit his career in order to marry.  An insult like this was more than Mary could endure, and she gave the young man a lesson he never forgot:—­

Ireement li prent a dire
 La mere au roi de paradis: 
 “Di moi, di moi, tu que jadis
 M’amoies tant de tout ton coeur. 
 Pourquoi m’as tu jete puer? 
 Di moi, di moi, ou est donc cele
 Qui plus de moi bone est et bele?... 
 Pourquoi, pourquoi, las durfeus,
 Las engignez, las deceuz,
 Me lais pour une lasse fame,
 Qui suis du del Royne et Dame? 
 Enne fais tu trop mauvais change
 Qui tu por une fame estrange
 Me laisses qui par amors t’amoie
 Et ja ou ciel t’apareilloie
 En mes chambres un riche lit
 Por couchier t’ame a grand delit? 
 Trop par as faites grant merveilles
 S’autrement tost ne te conseilles
 Ou ciel serra tes lits deffais
 Et en la flamme d’enfer faiz!”