Lady, said Arthur, I know now how great is thy might, and that thou canst take more shapes than this only; and humbly I thank thee that for us thou hast taken the shape that I love the best of all on the earth. Said the wood-wife: Stand up, Black Squire, and consider a little what thou wouldst have me do for thee, while I have speech with mine image yonder. And therewith she came up to Birdalone, and drew her a little apart, and fell to stroking her cheeks and patting her hands and diversely caressing her, and she said to her: How now, my child, have I done for thee what I promised, and art thou wholly happy now? O yea, said Birdalone; if nought else befell us in this life but to dwell together betwixt the woodland and the water, and to see thee oft, full happy should we be. Nevertheless, said Habundia, art thou not come hither to ask somewhat of me, that ye may be happier? So it is, wise mother, said Birdalone; grudge not against me therefor, for more than one thing drives me thereto. I will not grudge, said the wood-wife; but now I will ask thy mate if he has thought what it is that he will have of me. And she turned to Arthur, who came forth and said: Lady, I have heard thee, and herein would we have thee help us: There were erst six fellows of us, three carles and three queans, to whom was added this sweetling here; but one of them, to wit the Golden Knight, was slain, and for the rest . . . Yea, I know, said the wood-wife; my child here hath told me all; and now ye wot not where they are or if they be yet alive, all or any of them. Now is it not so that ye would seek these friends, if it were but to greet them but once, and that ye would ask of the wise wood-wife help to find them? Is there any more of the tale? Nay, lady, said Arthur. Said she: Well then, that help shall ye have, were it but for the sake of that little Viridis whereof my child hath told me. Wherefore abide tidings of me for a fourteen days, and seek not to me ere then; and meantime fear not, nor doubt me, for many messengers I have, and ever may I do somewhat if the end of the tale is to be told in these woodlands: and I deem these friends will not be hard to draw hither, for it is most like that they be thinking of you and longing for you, as ye for them. And now I will depart on my business, which is yours, and do ye be happy to-day in the woodland, and to-morrow in the meadows and by the water; and let no trouble weigh down your happy days. Therewith she flitted away from them, when she had kissed them both. But when she was gone they fared away together deep into the wood, and were exceeding merry disporting them, and on their return they gat them venison for their meat, and so came back to the House of Love when the moon was up and shining brightly. CHAPTER XXXI. HABUNDIA COMETH WITH TIDINGS OF THOSE DEAR FRIENDS.