least, the same merit that old Nicolas does at the very outset; since as
he veraciously declares--yet with a smack of pride:

Cette bonne ystoire n'est pas usee,
Ni guere de lieux jadis trouvee,
Ni ecrite par clercz ne fut encore._




CHAPTER II

_The Episode Called Adhelmar at Puysange_


I. _April-magic_

When Adhelmar had ended the tale of Dame Venus and the love which she
bore the knight Tannhaeuser (here one overtakes Nicolas midcourse in
narrative), Adhelmar put away the book and sighed. The Demoiselle Melite
laughed a little--her laughter, as I have told you, was high and
delicate, with the resonance of thin glass--and demanded the reason of
his sudden grief.

"I sigh," he answered, "for sorrow that this Dame Venus is dead."

"Surely," said she, wondering at his glum face, "that is no great
matter."

"By Saint Vulfran, yes!" Adhelmar protested; "for the same Lady Venus was