and caused her to be laid beside a church. Such a sin will out.
The cloth and the ring I have found, and I have recognised our maid,
whom I had lost by my own folly. She is this very damsel--so fair and
amiable to all--whom the knight so greatly loved. Now we have married
the lord to her sister."

The husband made answer, "Wife, if your sin be double, our joy is
manifold. Very tenderly hath God dealt with us, in giving us back our
child. I am altogether joyous and content to have two daughters for
one. Daughter, come to your father's side."

The damsel rejoiced greatly to hear this story. Her father tarried no
longer, but seeking his son-in-law, brought him to the Archbishop, and
related the adventure. The knight knew such joy as was never yet. The
Archbishop gave counsel that on the morrow he would part him and her
whom he had joined together. This was done, for in the morning he
severed them, bed and board. Afterwards he married Frene to her
friend, and her father accorded the damsel with a right good heart.
Her mother and sister were with her at the wedding, and for dowry her
father gave her the half of his heritage. When they returned to their
own realm they took Coudre, their daughter, with them. There she was
granted to a lord of those parts, and rich was the feast.

When this adventure was bruited abroad, and all the story, the Lay of
the Ash Tree was written, so called of the lady, named Frene.

X

THE LAY OF THE HONEYSUCKLE

With a glad heart and right good mind will I tell the Lay that men
call Honeysuckle; and that the truth may be known of all it shall be
told as many a minstrel has sung it to my ear, and as the scribe hath
written it for our delight. It is of Tristan and Isoude, the Queen.
It is of a love which passed all other love, of love from whence came
wondrous sorrow, and whereof they died together in the self-same day.

King Mark was sorely wrath with Tristan, his sister's son, and bade
him avoid his realm, by reason of the love he bore the Queen. So
Tristan repaired to his own land, and dwelt for a full year in South
Wales, where he was born. Then since he might not come where he would
be, Tristan took no heed to his ways, but let his life run waste to
Death. Marvel not overmuch thereat, for he who loves beyond measure
must ever be sick in heart and hope, when he may not win according
to his wish. So sick in heart and mind was Tristan that he left his
kingdom, and returned straight