The next morning, at daybreak, Aurelius, his brother, and the magician, went to the sea-side of Brittany, where the feat was to be done: it was the cold frosty month of December. Aurelius paid the magician every attention in his power, and entreated him to hasten to alleviate his misery; he rather ungraciously added, that he would slit his heart with his sword if he didn’t. The cunning sorcerer made as much haste as he could with his spells and trickeries to make all the rocks sink, or seem to sink, before the eyes of all that looked at them, right underground; at last he succeeded. By his magic arts it really did seem to everybody, for a week or two, that the rocks were all gone. Aurelius thanked him with joy, and then hastened to the castle, where he knew he should see Dorigene, to remind her of what she had promised. “My sovereign lady,” he said, saluting her humbly-- Ye wot right wel what ye byhighte me, promised And in myn hond your trouthe plighte ye my To love me best; God woot ye sayde so, Al be that I unworthy am therto. Madame, I speke it for thonour of yow you More than to save myn hertes lif right now: I have do so as ye comaundede me, And if ye vouchesauf ye maye go se. vouchsafe In yow lith al to do me lyve or deye, lieth But wel I wote the rokkes ben aweye. are “You know right well what you have promised me, And hand in mine your fair trouth plighted ye To love me best; God knoweth you said so, Although I be unworthy thereunto. Madam, I speak for th’ honour of the vow More than to urge my heart’s deep longing now: For I have done as you commanded me, And if you please it, you may go and see. It rests with you, to let me live or die, But that the rocks have vanish’d, well know I.” Poor Dorigene had little expected to fall into such a trap! She stood astonished, and her face grew white--all the colour left her cheeks. How bitterly she repented her rash promise! for she did not want to go away with Aurelius. “Alas!” she cried, “that such a thing should be! how could I guess so monstrous a marvel could come to pass?” and her terror made her like one desperate. Her husband, Arviragus, too, was absent, and there was no one she could tell her trouble to. She cried and lamented for three days, vainly thinking how she could get out of the scrape; and at last she determined to die. So three days passed, and all the time she was weeping and resolving on her death. However, on the third night, Arviragus came home again; and, when he knew what she was weeping so bitterly for, he said, cheerfully and kindly, “Is that all, Dorigene?”