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After a little course up stream through water joyfully cool they reached a place where the brook made a bend round the roots of an enormous oak; turning this they opened on a pool broad and deep. "We will robe you here," said Belvisee, meaning rather to unrobe her. The great gnarly roots of the oak were as pillars to a chamber which ran far into the bank.
Belvisee and Mellifont lay beside her on the grass. Isoult lay on her face, while Mellifont coiled and knotted up her hair. "If love is giving, and you are a lover, Isoult," said she, "you would give your hair." "I have given it," said Isoult, and told them her story as they all lay there together.
Before him Belvisee and Mellifont let go of Isoult's hand: she was to make her entry alone. She put them behind her back, hardly knowing what was expected of her, shrank a little into herself and waited timidly. Slowly then the great hart advanced before his peering courtiers, pacing on with nodding head and horns.
Did she speak to you about me?" "Often." "Is she ah, Lord of Hosts! she is not here?" "No, not now. She was here. Come with me. But you must leave your horse and sword behind you." Prosper obeyed her without a thought. Mellifont took his hand and led him to the hollow under the oak. Belvisee was there, dumbly nursing her side, which a stooping hind was licking when the pair came up.
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