s.
Other pray'r hath he none
Save this, "Sir, let me begone
Whence I came, since fordone
My expertise."

Quod Savaric, "Hast thou sped
So ill in _amors_?" Answered
This Gobertz, "By my head,
She scorneth me."
"_Hauberc_ and arms then, instead
Of lute and begarlanded
Poll, take you," he said,
"For errantry."

Now rides he out, a dubbed knight,
The Spanish road, for to fight
Paynimry; day and night
Urgeth he;
In Saragoza the bright,
And Pampluna with might
Seeketh he what respite
For grief there be.

War-dimmed grew his gear,
Grim his visage; in fear
Listened Mahound his cheer
Deep in Hell.
Fled his legions to hear
Gobertz the knight draw near.
Now he closeth the year
In Compostell.

Offering there hath he made
Saint James, candles him paid,
Gold on the shrine hath laid;
Now Gobertz
Is for Toulouse, where that maid
Tibors wonned unafraid
Of Love and his accolade
That breaketh hearts.

He rode north and by east,
Nor rider spared he nor beast,
Nor tempered spur till at least
Forth of Spain;
Not for mass-bell nor priest,
For fast-day nor yet for feast
Stayed he, till voyage ceased
In Aquitaine.

Now remaineth to tell
What this Gobertz befell
When that he sought hostel
In his land.
Dined he well, drank he well,
Envy then had somedeal
With women free in _bordel_
For to spend.

In poor _alberc_ goeth he
Where bought pleasure may be,
Careless proffereth fee
For his bliss.
O Gobertz, look to thee.
Such a sight shalt thou see
Will make the red blood to flee
Thy heart, ywis.

Fair woman they bring him in
Shamefast in her burning sin,
All afire is his skin
_Par amors_.
Look not of her look to win,
Dare not lift up her chin,
Gobertz; in that soiled fond thing
Lo, Tibors!

"O love, O love, out, alas!
That it should come to this pass,
And thou be even as I was
In green youth,
Whenas delight and solace
Served I with wantonness,
And burned anon like the grass
To this ruth!"

But then lift she her sad eyes,
Gray like wet morning skies,
That wait the sun to arise,