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.
