prowess and valiant. And thus they parted, and each went on his way.

So rode Geoffry the Marshal, day by day, that he came to Troyes in
Champagne, and found his lord the Count Thibaut sick and languishing,
and right glad was the count of his coming. And when he had told the
count how he had fared, the count was so rejoiced that he said he
would mount horse, a thing he had not done of a long time. So he rose
from his bed and rode forth. But alas, how great the pity! For never
again did he bestride horse but that once.

His sickness waxed and grew worse, so that at the last he made his
will and testament, and divided the money which he would have taken
with him on pilgrimage among his followers and companions, of whom he
had many that were very good men and true-no one at that time had
more. And he ordered that each one, on receiving his money, should
swear on holy relics, to join the host at Venice, according as he had
promised. Many there were who kept that oath badly, and so incurred
great blame. The count ordered that another portion of his treasure
should be retained, and taken to the host, and there expended as might
seem best.

Thus died the count; and no man in this world made a better end. And
there were present at that time a very

10

great assemblage of men of his lineage and of his vassals. But of the
mourning and funeral pomp it is unmeet that I should here speak. Never
was more honour paid to any man. And right well that it was so, for
never was man of his age more beloved by his own men, nor by other