had destroyed, and that there finding her dead, I ran wildly across the
country. When I came to my senses months had passed, and I was the inmate
of an asylum for men bereaved of their senses, kept by noble monks. Here
for two years I remained, the world believing that I was dead. None knew
that the troubadour whose love had cost the lady her life, who had slain
the guest of her father, and had then disappeared, was the unhappy son of
that guest. My friends in Paris when they heard of the tragedy of course
associated it with me, but they all kept silent. The monks, to whom I
confessed the whole story, were shocked indeed, but consoled me in my
grief and despair by the assurance that however greatly I had sinned, the
death of the lady had been accidental, and that if I were a parricide it
was at least unintentionally.

"My repentance was deep and sincere; and after a while, under another
name, I joined the army of the crusaders, to expiate my sin by warring
for the holy sepulchre. I fought as men fight who have no wish to live;
but while all around me fell by sword and disease, death kept aloof from
me. When the crusade had failed I determined to turn for ever from the
world, and to devote my life to prayer and penance; and so casting aside
my armour, I made my way here, and took up my abode in a cave in this
valley, where at that time were many thousands of other hermits--for the
Saracens, while they gained much money from fines and exactions from
pilgrims who came to Jerusalem, and fought stoutly against those who
sought to capture that city, were in the main tolerant, and offered no
hindrance to the community of men whom they looked upon as mad.

"Here, my son, for more than sixty years have I prayed, with much
fasting and penance. I trust now that the end is nearly at hand, and
that my long life of mortification may be deemed to have obliterated the
evil deeds which I did in my youth. Let my fate be a warning to you.