uld see her
friend at will, when once her lord had gone forth from the chamber.
Early and late, at morn and eve, the lovers met together. God grant
her joy was long, against the evil day that came.

The husband of the lady presently took notice of the change in
his wife's fashion and person. He was troubled in his soul, and
misdoubting his sister, took her apart to reason with her on a day.
He told her of his wonder that his dame arrayed her so sweetly, and
inquired what this should mean. The crone answered that she knew no
more than he, "for we have very little speech one with another. She
sees neither kin nor friend; but, now, she seems quite content to
remain alone in her chamber."

The husband made reply,

"Doubtless she is content, and well content. But by my faith, we must
do all we may to discover the cause. Hearken to me. Some morning when
I have risen from bed, and you have shut the doors upon me, make
pretence to go forth, and let her think herself alone. You must hide
yourself in a privy place, where you can both hear and see. We shall
then learn the secret of this new found joy."

Having devised this snare the twain went their ways. Alas, for those
who were innocent of their counsel, and whose feet would soon be
tangled in the net.

Three days after, this husband pretended to go forth from his house.
He told his wife that the King had bidden him by letters to his Court,
but that he should return speedily. He went from the chamber, making
fast the door. His sister arose from her bed, and hid behind her
curtains, where she might see and hear what so greedily she desired
to know. The lady could not sleep, so fervently she wished for her
friend. The knight came at her call, but he might not tarry, nor
cherish her more than one single hour. Great was the joy between them,
both in word and tenderness, till he could no longer stay. All this
the crone saw with her eyes, and stored in her heart. She watched the
fashion in which he came, and the guise in which he went. But she was
altogether fearful and amazed that so goodly a knight should wear the
semblance of a hawk. When the husband returned to his house--for
he was near at hand--his sister told him that of which she was the
witness, and of the truth concerning the knight. Right heavy was he
and wrathful. Straightway he contrived a cunning gin for the slaying
of this bird. He caused four blades of steel to be fashioned, with
point and edge sharper than the