Yet as Rosamund sat thus the pride passed from her face, and her eyes fell.
"Of what are you thinking ?" asked Godwin at her side.
"That I would we were back among the summer fields at Steeple," she answered, "for those who are lifted high fall low.

Prince Hassan, give the captains and people my thanks and bid them be gone.

I would rest." Thus for the first and last time did Rosamund behold her ancient fief of Baalbec, which her grandsire, the great Ayoub, had ruled before her.
That night there was feasting in the mighty, immemorial halls, and singing and minstrelsy and the dancing of fair women and the giving of gifts.

For Baalbec, where birth and beauty were ever welcome, did honour to its lady, the favoured niece of the mighty Salah-ed-din.

Yet there were some who murmured that she would bring no good fortune to the Sultan or this his city, who was not all of the blood of Ayoub, but half a Frank, and a Cross worshipper, though even these praised her beauty and her royal bearing.