One day when the roses were full-blown and all the little lambs were
skipping in the broad green fields, Sir Godfrey rode on his great white
horse towards the castle of the Lady Beatrice which was high up on a
hill, and faced the dawn. And he proudly rode because he saw that she was
watching him from the rose-terraces. But after a while he beheld her no
more, and he thought, "She knows I know she was watching." Pride put a
smile on his lips, because she had never watched for him before.

He spurred his horse to reach her the quicker while she was in this mood.
Now just before he gained the gate of the castle a goose-girl with her
geese blocked the road, and he cried impatiently, "Out of the way! out of
the way!" and scarcely reined in his horse, so that there was danger of
the girl's being hurt. She was quick on her feet, however, and sprang
aside, but one poor bird was trampled under the steed's hoofs, at which
the girl gave a sob and called out, "You are wicked, wicked!" Then he put
his hand in his purse and drew out some gold pieces and flung them
towards her; but she did not see them, for her face was buried in the
down of the bird, which was a pet.

When he reached the gate, there in the shadow of the arch stood the Lady
Beatrice. Her face was as white as a gardenia flower, and she did not
smile when she greeted him. He wondered what he had done to offend her,
and after a page had led away his horse he employed all his graceful arts
to win the smile he craved as a thirsty man longs for water. Sometimes
she glanced at him from beneath her lashes as if seeking to read his
soul; and once he saw her lips tremble, but the smile did not come.

They were pacing up and down between the nodding roses that seemed to be
saying to Sir Godfrey, "Kiss her! kiss her!" until no longer could he