I said, and never rested till she obtained
permission to come to this town. And by my oath, I verily suspect that
her chief intention is to try if she can, if my words were true that
I said about your big member. She will soon be here I expect, for she
longs to come; so I pray you when she does come you will receive her
gladly, and welcome her, and do all that she asks. But at all events do
not deceive me; take care that you do not touch her. Appoint a time
to come to her when she is in bed, and I will go in your place, and
afterwards I will tell you some good news."

"Let me alone," said the host. "I will take care and act my part well."

"At all events," said the other, "be sure and serve me no trick, for I
know well enough that she will be ready to."

"By my oath," said the host, "I assure you I will not come near her,"
and he did not.

Soon after came our wench and her maid, both very tired, God knows;
and the good host came forth, and received his guests as he had been
enjoined, and as he had promised. He caused mademoiselle to be taken to
a fair chamber, and a good fire to be made, and brought the best wine
in the house, and sent for some fine fresh cherries, and came to banquet
with her whilst supper was getting ready. When he saw his opportunity,
he began to make his approaches to her, but in a roundabout way. To cut
matters short, an agreement was made between them that he should come
secretly at midnight to sleep with her.

This being arranged, he went and told the husband of the dame, who, at
the hour named, went in mine host's instead, and did the best he could,
and rose before daybreak and returned to his own bed.

When it was day, the wench, quite vexed and melancholy, called her maid,
and they rose, and dressed as hastily as they could, and would have paid
the host, but he said he would take nothing from her. And with that
she left without hearing Mass, or seeing St. Michael, or breakfasting
either; and without saying a single word, returned home. But you must
know that her husband was there already, and asked her what good news
there was at Mont St. Michel. She, feeling as annoyed as she could be,
hardly deigned to reply.

"And what sort of welcome," asked her husband, "did mine host give you?
By God, he is a good fellow!"

"A good fellow!" she said. "Nothing very wonderful! I will not give him
more praise than is his due."

"No, dame?" he replied. "By St. John, I should have thought that for