ourt who does not
address him kindly and welcome him. He is not so foolish as to be puffed
up, nor does he vaunt himself nor boast. He makes acquaintance with my
lord Gawain and with the others, one by one. He gains the good graces of
them all, but my lord Gawain grows so fond of him that he chooses him as
his friend and companion. [210] The Greeks took the best lodgings to be
had, with a citizen of the town. Alexander had brought great possessions
with him from Constantinople, intending to give heed above all to the
advice and counsel of the Emperor, that his heart should be ever
ready to give and dispense his riches well. To this end he devotes his
efforts, living well in his lodgings, and giving and spending liberally,
as is fitting in one so rich, and as his heart dictates. The entire
court wonders where he got all the wealth that he bestows; for on all
sides he presents the valuable horses which he had brought from his own
land. So much did Alexander do, in the performance of his service,
that the King, the Queen, and the nobles bear him great affection.
King Arthur about this time desired to cross over into Brittany. So he
summons all his barons together to take counsel and inquire to whom he
may entrust England to be kept in peace and safety until his return.
By common consent, it seems, the trust was assigned to Count Angres of
Windsor, for it was their judgement that there was no more trustworthy
lord in all the King's realm. When this man had received the land, King
Arthur set out the next day accompanied by the Queen and her damsels.
The Bretons make great rejoicing upon hearing the news in Brittany that
the King and his barons are on the way.
(Vv. 441-540.) Into the ship in which the King sailed there entered
no youth or maiden save only Alexander and Soredamors, whom the Queen
brought with her. This maiden was scornful of love, for she had never
heard of any man whom she would deign to love, whatever might be his
beauty, prowess, lordship, or birth. And yet the damsel was so charming
and fair that she might fitly have learned of love, if it had pleased
her to lend a willing ear; but she would never give a thought to love.
Now Love will make her grieve, and will avenge himself for all the pride
and scorn with which she has always treated him. Carefully Love has
aimed his dart with which he pierced her to the heart. Now she grows
pale and trembles, and in spite of herself must succumb to Love. Only
with grea
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