Then one
morning had come this brave Renaud, Chatelain of far-off Coucy,
seeming to bring in his eyes, his voice, his lute, all the merry
Spring times we had missed. So he came often and often, teaching me
the great art of song he knew so well; and we were all very happy. But
bye-and-bye he came only when my lord was out a-hawking or to tourney,
and then very quietly, but always with his lute and with song to my
lady. I guessed well which way the wind was blowing, but surely the
pitiful Virgin granted my lady, and justly, this one little hour of
happiness. So it went on and on for a long time and it seemed that my
lord was always away to hunt or to battle, and that when he came back
the songs of Renaud of Coucy never ceased, but only changed their
place, coming now by night under my lady's casement.
Then there was spread abroad through the land this great fire in all
hearts to go to Terre Sainte and to deliver the holy Jerusalem of Our
Lord from the curse of the Saracen hand, and our poor Renaud must feel
himself among the first to go. So one sad morning at early dawn he had
come under my lady's window and sung her that farewell which so filled
my heart, and I had heard from my post in my lady's antechamber.
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