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Updated: June 3, 2025
She was Jehane Saint-Pol, Jehane 'of the Fair Girdle, so called by her lovers and friends, to whom for a matter of two years this hot-coloured, tallest, and coldest of the Angevins had been light of the world. The check upon their greeting was the most curious part of a curious business, that one should have travelled and the other watched so long, and neither urge the end of desire.
Forsooth, needs must I where fortune shall lead me; and she is contrary enough; for I have lost the thing in the world that most I ever loved: and she also hath lost me. Withal I have lost my land, which was great and fair enough. But what hast thou to name, and whither doth God lead thee?" "Certes, sir," said Jehane, "I am minded for Marseilles on the sea, where is war as I hope.
But once in London the story begins to concentrate. It is clear there was danger for Jehane. King Richard, it seems, caused her to be lodged 'in a place of nuns over the river, in a place which is called in English Lamehithe. This was quite true; danger there was, as Richard saw, who knew his mother. But he did not then know how quick with danger the times were.
The pavilion of King Sancho was of green silk with silver emblems a heart, a castle, a stag; Saint George, Saint Michael, Saint James the Great, and Saint Martin with his split cloak a shining place before whose door stood twenty ladies in white, their hair let loose, to receive Madame Berengère and minister to her. Chief among these was Countess Jehane.
At her throat, cruelly, relentlessly doing their murderous work, are a pair of hands ugly, podgy hands, but with what power behind them! The face is the face of Jehane a distorted, terrified Jehane! Arnaud recoils, covering his eyes with his hands. Who could have drawn this unspeakable thing? He looks again closely; the style is his own!
So the knight bestirred him, and went so much by his journeys that he came to the country where dwelt the fair dame, whom the tale calleth my Lady Jehane, and found her abiding at a castle of hers, and she made him great joy, as one whom she knew. The knight drew her to privy talk, and told her of King Florus of Ausay, how he bade her come unto him that he might take her to wife.
Here endeth the tale of King Florus and the Fair Jehane. In years bygone was a Count of Ponthieu, who loved much chivalry and the world, and was a much valiant man and a good knight. In the same times was a Count of St. Pol, who held all the country, and was lord thereof, and a man much valiant.
Hardly had the priest begun his introibo when Jehane Saint-Pol, who had been awake all night, stole in with a hood on her head, and holding herself very stiffly, knelt on the floor. She joined her hands and stuck them up before her, so that the tips of her fingers, pointing upwards as her thoughts would fly, were nearly level with her chin.
'Heart of God, what is this? He held back his head, like a snake, that he might see what he would strike at. 'Is it true, girl? Jehane looked up from his shoulder, where she had been hiding her face. She could not speak, but she nodded. 'It is true? Thou art promised? 'I am promised, my lord, said Jehane. 'Let me go. He put her down at once, between himself and Gurdun.
And when you have learned, as learn you will, from his mouth what I am sure he will tell you, come back to me, my Pleasant Joy, and rest upon my heart. Jehane sighed, and wrought with her fingers in her lap. 'If it must be, sire 'Why, of course it must be, said the Old Man briskly. He sent her away to the harem with a kiss on her mouth, and had in Cogia, and Bohadin son of Falmy of Balsora.
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