HOW BERTRAN DE BORN AND COUNT RICHARD STROVE IN A _TENZON_ Day-long and night-long he sang of her, being now in the poetic mood, highly exalted, out of himself.

The country took tints of Jehane, her shape, her fine nobility.

The thrust hills of the Vexin were her breasts; the woods, being hot gold, her russet hair; in still green water he read the secrets of her eyes; in the milk of October dawns her calm brows had been dipped.

The level light of the Beauce, so beneficent yet so austere, figured her soul.

Fair-girdled was Touraine by Vienne and Loire; fair-girdled Jehane, who wore virgin candour about her loins and over her heart a shield of blue ice.