in all good qualities.

The Count of Ponthieu marked my lord Thibault of Dommare. He summoned
the knight to his castle, and made him of his house for guerdon. When
Sir Thibault was of his fellowship he rejoiced greatly, for the Count
prospered in goods and in praise by reason of his servant's deeds. As
they came from a tournament on a day, the Count and my lord Thibault
together, the Count required of his companion and said,

"Thibault, by the aid of God tell me truly which jewel of my crown
shines the fairest in your eyes!"

"Sir," replied Messire Thibault, "I am only a beggar, but so help me
God, of all the jewels in your crown I love and covet none, save only
my demoiselle, your daughter."

When he heard this thing the Count had great content. He laughed in
his heart and said,

"Thibault, I will grant her to the beggar, if it be to her mind."

"Sir," answered he, "thanks and gramercy. May God make it up to you."

Then went the Count to his daughter, and said,

"Fair daughter, I have promised you in marriage, so it go not against
your heart."

"Sir," inquired the maid, "to whom?"

"In the name of God, to a loyal man, and a true man, of whom much is
hoped; to a knight of my own household, Thibault of Dommare."

"Dear sir," answered the maiden sweetly, "if your county were a
kingdom, and I were the king's only child, I would choose him as my
husband, and gladly give him all that I had."

"Daughter," said the Count, "blessed be your pretty person, and the
hour that you were born."

Thus was this marriage made. The Count of Ponthieu and the Count of
St. Pol were at the feast, and many another honourable man besides.
Great was the joy in which they met, fair was the worship, and
marvellous the delight. The bride and groom lived together in all
happiness for five years. This was their only sorrow, that it pleased
not our Lord Jesus Christ that they should have an heir to their
flesh.

On a night Sir Thibault lay in his bed. He considered within himself
and said,

"Lord, whence cometh it that I love this dame so fondly, and she me,
yet we may have no heir of our bodies to serve God and to do a little
good in the world?"

Then he remembered my lord St. James, the Apostle of Spain, who gives
to the fervent supplicant that which rightly he desires. Earnestly, to
his own heart, he promised that he would walk a pilgrim in his way.
His wife lay sleeping at his side, but when she came from out her
sleep, he to