War was raging between Edward III and the Scots. The Scots laid siege to the fortress of Roxburgh and took its governor, Lord Salisbury, prisoner; and his wife, Lady Salisbury, defended the fortress with the defense of heroes, until, as King Edward drew near the fortress, the besiegers abandoned it and fell back in flight before the king's armies.

Lady Salisbury opened the gates of the fortress to the king, who with his retinue became her guests. Scarcely had the king seen the mistress of the castle when he felt her love assail his heart and sensed the awkwardness of his position. The Lady came upon him standing at the window of the hall, lost in thought, and this dialogue passed between them:

The Countess — It pains me to see the marks of sorrow plain upon my lord the King. What can your handmaid do to rid your soul of the causes of this frowning grief and this enveloping gloom?

Edward — Forgive me, my lady; my mind is astray, and I cannot scatter the flowers of consolation upon a ground of scandal and shame. For I have erred, Countess, since I entered this place.

The Countess — God forbid, my lord, that there should be anyone

in this house able to see my king in error!

Tell me, my gracious lord, the causes of your vexation.

Edward — And how near should I come to a cure, if I told you what you ask?

The Countess — As near as all my woman's powers can spend in the purchase of the remedy.

Edward — If you speak truly, then in that lies every cause of contentment. Employ all your powers, then, to bring about my happiness; and then, Countess, I shall be happy — or die.

The Countess — I shall do, my lord, what you desire.

Edward — Swear it, Countess.

The Countess — I swear by heaven that I shall.

Edward — Then step aside a little way, and remember that here is a king enamored of you; remember that it lies in your power to make him happy, and that you have sworn to spend, for the sake of his happiness, every means of comfort your strength can bring about.

Do all this, then tell me when my happiness shall be accomplished.

The Countess — I have done all this, my lord, majestic King.

I have offered you, in tokens of obedience and devotion, all the

power of love with which I am able to surround you.

Tell me then, my lord, what proof beyond this do you require?

Edward — You have heard me say that I am enamored of you.

The Countess — If it is my beauty you are enamored of, take it if you can; slight as it is, in my eyes it is not worth a tenth of its price. And if it is my virtue you are enamored of, take it if you can, for the selling of virtue enriches in the measure that it is spent.

Let your passion, my lord, be for whatever I am able to give and you are able to take — may you inherit it from me.

Edward — It is your beauty I would enjoy.

The Countess — I could wish, my lord, that my beauty were paint; then I would wipe it away, deprive myself of it, and present it to you.

But it, my lord King, is fastened to my life and cannot be parted from it.

If you take the one, you take the other with it; for my beauty, like a humble shadow, follows the light of the shining sun through the summer of my life.

Edward — But you can lend it to me, and I shall enjoy it.

The Countess — It would be no easier to lend my soul away from my body — the body still living — than to lend my body — which is my soul's dwelling — away from her,

while I keep her still.

My body is my soul's chamber, her courtyard, and her temple; and my