may go to his bathing at the same time. It will be your part to keep
him at your side, and make him your constant companion. It will be
mine to heat the water, and to carry the baths to your chamber. My
husband's bath shall boil so fiercely, that no breathing man, having
entered therein, may come forth living. When he is dead you must call
for your people, and show them how the seneschal has died suddenly in
his bath."

Because of his love the King granted her desire, and promised to do
according to her will. Before three months were done the King rode to
the chase within the lady's realm. He caused surgeons to bleed him for
his health, and the seneschal with him. He said that he would take his
bath on the third day, and the seneschal required his, too, to be made
ready. The lady caused the water to be heated, and carried the baths
to the chamber. According to her device she set a bath beside each
bed, filling with boiling water that bath which her lord should enter.
Her lord had gone forth for a little, so for a space the King and the
lady were alone. They sat on the husband's bed, and looked tenderly
each on the other, near by that heated bath. The door of the chamber
was kept by a young damsel to give them warning. The seneschal made
haste to return, and would have struck on the door of the chamber, but
was stayed by the maiden. He put her by, and in his impatience flung
the door wide open. Entering he found his master and his wife clasped
in each other's arms. When the King saw the seneschal he had no
thought but to hide his dishonour. He started up, and sprang with
joined feet in the bath that was filled with boiling water. There he
perished miserably, in the very snare he had spread for another, who
was safe and sound. The seneschal marked what had happened to the
King. In his rage he turned to his wife, and laying hands upon her
thrust her, head first, in the self-same bath. So they died together,
the King first, and the lady afterwards, with him.

Those who are willing to listen to fair words, may learn from this
ensample, that he who seeks another's ill often brings the evil upon
himself.

As I have told you before, of this adventure the Bretons made the Lay
of Equitan, the lady whom he loved, and of their end.

XII

THE LAY OF MILON

He who would tell divers tales must know how to vary the tune. To
win the favour of any, he must speak to the understanding of all. I
purpose in this place to show