Lodged in a township at the fall of night,

  Duke Aymon's daughter, journeying Paris-ward,

  Hears how King Agramant was foiled in fight.

  Good harbourage withal of bed and board,

  She in her hostel found; but small delight

  This and all comforts else to her afford.

  For the sad damsel meat and sleep foregoes,

  Nor finds a resting place; far less repose.