much they cast and shoot, their efforts are
of no effect. Yet they strive to do their utmost, hurling their javelins
amain, and shooting darts and bolts. On all sides is heard the din of
cross-bows and slings as the arrows and the round stones fly thick,
like rain mixed with hail. Thus all day long the struggle of attack and
defence continues, until the night separates them. And the King causes
to be proclaimed what gift he will bestow upon him who shall effect the
surrender of the town: a cup of great price weighing fifteen marks of
gold, the richest in his treasure, shall be his reward. The cup will be
very fine and rich, and, to tell the truth, the cup is to be esteemed
for the workmanship rather than for the material of which it is made.
But good as the workmanship may be, and fine though the gold, if the
truth be told, the precious stones set in the outside of the cup were of
most value. He through whose efforts the town shall be taken is to have
the cup, if he be only a foot soldier; and if the town is taken by a
knight, with the cup in his possession he shall never seek his fortune
in vain, if there is any to be found in the world.

(Vv. 1553-1712.) When this news was announced, Alexander had not
forgotten his custom of going to see the Queen each evening. That night,
too, he had gone thither and was seated beside the Queen. Soredamors was
sitting alone close by them, looking at him with such satisfaction
that she would not have exchanged her lot for Paradise. The Queen took
Alexander by the hand, and examined the golden thread which was showing
the effects of wear; but the strand of hair was becoming more lustrous,
while the golden thread was tarnishing. And she laughed as she happened
to recall that the embroidery was the work of Soredamors. Alexander
noticed this, and begged her to tell him, if suitable, why she laughed.
The Queen was slow to make reply, and looking toward Soredamors, bade
her come to her. Gladly she went and knelt before her. Alexander was
overjoyed when he saw her draw so near that he could have touched her.
But he is not so bold as even to look at her; but rather does he so lose
his senses that he is well-nigh speechless. And she, for her part, is so
overcome that she has not the use of her eyes; but she casts her glance
upon the ground without fastening it upon anything. The Queen marvels
greatly at seeing her now pale, now crimson, and she notes well in her
heart the bearing and expressio