We expect to see the great baron crushing his faithless retainer in the first storm of indignation. But such is not his character. He is resolved to smite, but not till the guilty are convicted by their own words. With great discretion he refrains from questioning his wife, or from taking any further steps till he has seen Guillem without witnesses. One day when the poet is gone to hunt with the sparrow-hawk, Raimon follows him, secretly armed, but unaccompanied. He meets him in a lonely place, and the scene which passes between them is exceedingly characteristic of the men and of the time in which they lived. Guillem, on seeing the baron approach, at once recognises the danger of his situation. But he is too much of a courtier to show any embarrassment. At first their conversation runs on indifferent matters, courteous inquiries and answers as to Guillem’s sport and the like. But presently Raimon’s self-control begins to desert him. ‘Let us leave off this talk now,’ he begins abruptly, ‘and answer me truthfully, by the faith you owe me, all that I am going to ask you.’ After some natural hesitation, Guillem submits to this comprehensive demand. ‘Tell me, then,’ asks Raimon, solemnly, ‘as you love God and your faith, have you a lady for whom you sing, and to whom you are bound in love?’ ‘And how could I sing,’ William answers, ‘if Love did not bind me? Know, noble sir, that he has me wholly in his power.’ Raimon answered, ‘I willingly believe that without love you could not sing so well; but now I must know who is your lady?’ But to this Guillem demurs. Hitherto he has answered the questions of his master, as in duty bound; but here a higher duty intervenes, that of discretion in the service of love. In his excuse he quotes some lines of his brother poet Bernard de Ventadorn, to the effect that it is ‘a foolish and childish thing to reveal your love to a friend who can be of no service to you.’ Raimon accepts the plea, but he meets the move with one of equal skill. ‘Quite true,’ he says; ‘but I pledge my word that I will be of service to you, as far as lies in my power.’ Guillem, thus brought to bay, sees only one way to save himself from immediate destruction. ‘Know then,’ he exclaims, ‘that I love the sister of the Lady Margarida your wife, and I believe that she returns my passion; now you know all, and I pray you to assist me, or at least not to injure me.’ To this Raimon assents very readily, and to prove his zealous friendship, he proposes an immediate visit to the lady herself, whose husband’s castle (for she also, as a matter of course, is married) happens to be in the immediate neighbourhood. The feelings of Guillem, as the two ride along, may be imagined.