leave, and departed from the Court. Gugemar went his way to Flanders,
being desirous of advancement, for in that kingdom ever they have
strife and war. Neither in Loraine nor Burgundy, Anjou nor Gascony,
might be found in that day a better knight than he, no, nor one his
peer. He had but one fault, since of love he took no care. There was
neither dame nor maiden beneath the sky, however dainty and kind, to
whom he gave thought or heed, though had he required her love of any
damsel, very willingly would she have granted his desire. Many there
were who prayed him for his love, but might have no kiss in return. So
seeing that he refrained his heart in this fashion, men deemed him a
strange man, and one fallen into a perilous case.

In the flower of his deeds the good knight returned to his own land,
that he might see again his father and lord, his mother and his
sister, even as he very tenderly desired. He lodged with them for the
space of a long month, and at the end of that time had envy to hunt
within the wood. The night being come, Gugemar summoned his prickers
and his squires, and early in the morning rode within the forest.
Great pleasure had Gugemar in the woodland, and much he delighted in
the chase. A tall stag was presently started, and the hounds being
uncoupled, all hastened in pursuit--the huntsmen before, and the good
knight following after, winding upon his horn. Gugemar rode at a great
pace after the quarry, a varlet riding beside, bearing his bow, his
arrows and his spear. He followed so hotly that he over-passed the
chase. Gazing about him he marked, within a thicket, a doe hiding with
her fawn. Very white and wonderful was this beast, for she was without
spot, and bore antlers upon her head. The hounds bayed about her, but
might not pull her down. Gugemar bent his bow, and loosed a shaft
at the quarry. He wounded the deer a little above the hoof, so that
presently she fell upon her side. But the arrow glanced away, and