The lady came to the Count. She took him apart, and bidding the Saracens fall back, she inquired of him whence he was.
"Lady, I am from the kingdom of France, of a county that men call Ponthieu."
When the lady heard this her bowels were moved. Earnestly she demanded his name and race.
"Of a truth, lady, I have long forgotten my father's house, for I have suffered such pain and anguish since I departed, that I would rather die than live. But this you may know, that I — even the man who speaks to you — was once the Count of Ponthieu."
The lady hearkened to this, but yet she made no sign. She went from the Count, and coming to the Soudan, said,
"Husband, give me this captive as a gift, if such be your pleasure. He knows chess and draughts and many fair tales to bring solace to the hearer. He shall play before you, and we will make our pastime of his skill."
"Wife," answered the Soudan, "I grant him to you very willingly; do with him as you wish."
The lady took the captive, and bestowed him in her chamber. The gaolers sought another in his stead, and brought forth my lord Thibault, the husband to the dame. He came out in tatters, for he was clothed rather in his long hair and great beard, than in raiment. His body was lean and bony, and he seemed as one who had endured pain and sorrow enough, and to spare. When the lady saw him she said to the Soudan,
"Husband, with this one also would I gladly speak, if so I may."
"Wife," answered the Soudan, "it pleases me well."
The lady came to my lord Thibault, and inquired of him whence he was.
