Take not my words ill, noble Noyon, for I am overdone with grief for the past and fear for the future.

You must bide to marry her by fair means or by foul.

Draw her from the sanctuary and marry her whether she say you yea or nay.

You have my leave, noble Noyon," and so speaking he swayed and fell prone upon the floor.
At first they thought that he was dead.

But the chaplain, Nicholas, who was a leech, bled him, and he came to himself again, although he still wandered in his talk and lay abed.
Then Acour and Nicholas took counsel together.
"What is to be done ?" said Sir Edmund, "for I am on fire for this maid, and all her scorn and hate do but fan my flame.