THE CHRONICLE OF CLEMENDY
since one could not be unkind to people who were so persevering. I suppose that even the smallest page, little Raoul de Monthermer, who was only ten (it was pleasant to hear him talking of his mistress and the lady of his thoughts) would be dead by this time in the natural course of nature; but many of the High Constable's establishment died young from a too rigorous pursuit of their favourite amusements, for they forgot that one should be temperate in all things and seemed to think themselves as strong as that Seigneur d'Ercules who was a Lord Marcher of Greece and did things that are too hard for us now. And this courageous chivalry was madly in love with Loyse, partly because she really had a nice figure (droit corsage the French call it) and partly because she would have nothing to do with it, and when it began to say pretty things and to stretch out a wanton hand, she would move further off and begin to talk about something else. And once there was a Court of Love held at Caldicot, to the which came Ladies, Knights, poets, and pursuivants d'amour from all Christendom, and the Assize was held in a tent set up in a meadow, most gorgeous to behold, all shining and glittering and glowing with gold cloth, and noble blazons, and banners of the Knights. Hereat arose so sweet a noise of sonnets and canzones, of amorous rhapsodies and songs burning with love, of glitterns and of lutes; that if you stand under the old ruinous Castle walls in June whiles the sun is setting, you may chance to hear some few faint notes of that delicious musique, and catch a glimpse of
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