On a night lay Messire Thibault in his bed and pondered sore, and said: “God! of whom it cometh that I love so much this dame, and she me, and forsooth no heir of our flesh may we have, whereby God might be served, and good be done to the world.” Therewith he thought on my lord St. Jakeme, the apostle of Galicia, who would give to such as crave aright that which by right they crave, and he behight him the road thither in his heart. The dame was a-sleeping yet, and whenas she awoke he held her betwixt his arms, and prayed her that she would give him a gift. “Sir,” said the dame, “and what gift?” “Dame,” said he, “thou shalt wot that when I have it.” “Sir,” she said, “if I may give it, I will give it, whatso it may be.” “Dame,” he said, “I crave leave of thee to go to my lord St. Jacque the Apostle, that he may pray our Lord Jesus Christ to give us an heir of our flesh, whereby God may be served in this world, and the Holy Church refreshed.” “Sir,” said the dame, “the gift is full courteous, and much debonairly will I grant it thee.” In much great joy were they for long while: wore one day, and another, and a third; and it befell that they lay together in bed on a night, and then said the dame: “Sir, I pray and require of thee a gift.” “Dame,” said he, “ask, and I will give it, if give it I may.” “Sir,” she said, “I crave leave of thee to go with thee on thy journey.” When Messire Thibault heard that, he was much sorrowful, and said: “Dame, grievous thing would it be to thine heart, for the way is much longsome, and the land is much strange and much diverse.” She said: “Sir, doubt thou nought of me, for of such littlest squire that thou hast, shalt thou be more hindered than of me.” “Dame,” said he, “a-God’s name, I grant it thee.” Day came, and the tidings ran so far till the Count of Ponthieu knew it, and sent for Messire Thibault, and said: “Thibault, thou art vowed a pilgrim, as they tell me, and my daughter also?” “Sir,” said he, “that is sooth.” “Thibault,” said the Count, “concerning thee it is well, but concerning my daughter it is heavy on me.” “Sir,” said Messire Thibault, “I might not naysay her.” “Thibault,” said the Count, “bestir ye when ye will; so hasten ye your palfreys, your nags, and your sumpter-beasts; and I will give you pennies and havings enow.” “Sir,” said Messire Thibault, “great thank I give thee.” So then they arrayed them, and departed with great joy; and they went so far by their journeys, that they drew nigh to St. Jacque by less than two days. On a night they came to a good town, and in the evening Messire Thibault called his host, and asked him concerning the road for the morrow, what road they should find, and what like it might be; and he said to him: “Fair sir, at the going forth from this town ye shall find somewhat of a forest to pass through, and all the day after a good road.” Therewith they held their peace, and the bed was apparelled, and they went to rest.