One day as she lay pining upon her couch, her malady having become intolerable, she summoned Oddoul to her chamber.
He came in obedience to her orders, but remained with his eyes cast down towards the threshold of the door.

With impatience and grief she resented his not looking at her.
"See," said she to him, "I have no more strength, a shadow is on my eyes.

My body is both burning and freezing." And as he kept silence and made no movement, she called him in a voice of entreaty: "Come to me, come!" With outstretched arms to which passion gave more length, she endeavoured to seize him and draw him towards her.
But he fled away, reproaching her for her wantonness.
Then, incensed with rage and fearing that Oddoul might divulge the shame into which she had fallen, she determined to ruin him so that he might not ruin her.
In a voice of lamentation that resounded throughout all the palace she called for help, as if, in truth, she were in some great danger.

Her servants rushed up and saw the young monk fleeing and the queen pulling back the sheets upon her couch.

They all cried out together.