stood as she were like to faint, for never had she thought to be
caught in such a trap as this. Home she went, and for long it seemed
that all she could do would be to die by her own hand, for never
would she give her love to any man but her husband. For two days thus
she made her moan, purposing to die, and none knew of her sad plight,
her husband being away from the town, as it chanced, on his knightly
business.

On the third day Averagus came to his home and found his wife pale
with weeping. "What ails you, wife," he said, "that you weep thus?"
At his question her tears fell faster than ever. "Alas!" she said,
"that ever I was born. I have given my word and have promised a thing
which is like to ruin us both"--and then she told him all the tale I
have told you.

Her husband looked very sad, but at the last he said, "If your
promise be given, wife, and your troth plighted, then must you be his
love. Grieved as I am, I would rather lose you than that, for my
sake, you should break your oath." At this he called a squire and
bade him escort Dorigen to a certain place, but he told him not the
reason of her going.

So Dorigen set forth and on the way she met with Aurelius. "Where
goest thou, lady?" he asked. "To meet you," she answered, half mad
with grief. "My husband has sent me so that I may not break my
plighted word." At this Aurelius' heart was filled with pity. He saw
how sad she looked and was at once filled with admiration for the
noble knight who would give up his greatest joy so that his wife
might keep her promise. "Nay, lady," he said at length. "Freely your
husband sent you, freely I send you back to him, nor from this day