While Eustace Saint-Pol was snoring abed and the Abbot Milo at his _Sursum Corda_, Richard had Jehane by the hand.

'Come forth, my love; we have the broad day before us and an empty kingdom to roam in.

Come, my red rose, let me set you among the flowers.' What could she do but harbour up her thoughts?
He took her afield, where flowers made the earth still a singing-place, and gathered of these to deck her bosom and hair.

Of the harebells he made knots, the ground-colour of her eyes; but autumn loves the yellow, so she was stuck with gold like a princess.

She sat enthroned by his command, this young girl in a high place, with downcast eyes and a face all fire-colour, while he worshipped her to his fancy.