silken clothes, but he was unmindful of it, because he had begun to
grieve not for himself, but for his sweet lost love.

The days went by and he grew thin and worn with his grieving; and because
he learned how salt is the taste of tears he began to pity everything
that suffered. He was well-nigh worn out with his memories, for now he
never thought of his noble deeds, but of the times when he had given pain
to others. Often he remembered the poor goose-girl and her birds. At
first he would say, "I gave her gold"; then a voice in his heart
answered, "Gold cannot pay for life."

So one day he went to the market-place and bought a fine gray goose with
a bill as red as a cardinal's robe; and he tucked the bird under his arm,
though the people jeered to see a noble knight carrying a goose. But Sir
Godfrey cared not. He went straight to the village green where the
goose-girl was leading her birds around, and bowed low before her as if
she were a great lady.

"I am sorry that I killed one of your flock," he said. "Will you take
this fellow for forgiveness's sake?"

Then the tears came into her eyes, and she took into her arms from his
the gray goose whose bill was red as a cardinal's robe; and stroked
his feathers.

"Why do you cry?" asked Sir Godfrey.

"I am glad you are a true knight," she answered.

Then Sir Godfrey wished with all his heart that he might bring tears to