‘I know that your sister, Lucina, full of grace, is the mistress of the moon. She is also the principal goddess of the sea and the tides; she has dominion even over Neptune in the affairs of the deep. You know better than I do, Lord Phoebus, that she likes nothing better than to be lit by your fire. So she follows you through the firmament, and in turn the mighty seas follow her as their lawful protector and deity; she holds sway over every stream and brook. So this is my request to you, great lord. Perform this miracle for me, or I will die. When you and your sister are in opposition within the sign of Leo, when the tides are high, will you beseech her to send so great a flood along the coast that the highest rocks in Brittany are overwhelmed by five fathoms of water? That is my plea. And will you ask your sister to maintain the seas at that pitch for at least two years? Then I will be able to tell Dorigen that I have performed my part of the bargain and that she must fulfil hers.

‘Perform this miracle for me, lord of the Sun. Ask your sister to travel in step with you, at your speed, for the next two years. Remain in opposition, one to another. Then there will be a full moon every night, and the spring tides will not abate one inch. But if glorious Lucina does not wish me to win my love in this way, then will you plead with her to take those dark rocks down with her to the realm of Pluto? Let them be buried leagues beneath the earth. Otherwise I will never gain my lady. I will journey in bare feet to your temple in Delphi, great lord. See the tears upon my cheeks. Take pity on my pain, sir.’ And, with those words, he fell into a swoon. He did not recover for a long time. It was his brother who looked after him. When he heard of his distress, he took him up and brought him to his bed. So there will I leave poor grieving Aurelius to his painful thoughts. I do not know whether he will live or die.

In the meantime Arveragus, full of honour, has returned home! He came back with all the other knights, but there was none more renowned for chivalry. You are happy again, Dorigen, to have your loving husband safely in your arms! This noble knight, this famous man of arms, still loves you above all else. He is not a suspicious husband, either. He would not even have considered the possibility of a rival. The thought never crossed his mind. He just wanted to dance and joust and make good cheer. So I will leave them together in married bliss. It is time to return to sick Aurelius.

Oh dear. For two entire years he lay in woe and torment. He never left his bed. He could not have taken one step. He received comfort from no one except his brother, who was a scholar and very sympathetic to his plight. Of course Aurelius told no one else about it. He was silent and discreet. He kept the secret hidden deeply in his breast, just as Pamphilus once concealed his love for Galatea. His breast looked whole and healthy; but the arrow, unseen, had pierced his heart. Any surgeon will tell you that a wound healed only on the surface can be deadly. You must get at the arrow beneath. So his brother, the clerk, wept bitterly beside his bed.

But then this brother, learned in many things, happened to remember his time at the University of Orleans. While he was living there he fell into the company of other young students, all of them eager for learning. Above all else they were fascinated by the arts of the occult. They searched in every corner for secret lore. He remembered that one day he had come across a book of natural magic. It had been left on a desk by one of his companions, a student of law who was interested in more than legal matters. This book described the operations of the twenty-eight mansions, or stations, of the moon. It is all foolishness to us nowadays, of course, worth less than nothing. The faith of the Holy Church is all we need. We no longer put any trust in magic or necromancy.

But as soon as the clerk recalled the details of this book, his heart leaped. He said quietly to himself that his poor brother would soon be cured of his woe. ‘I am sure,’ he said, ‘that there are ways and means of creating magical illusions. Conjurors can do it, after all. I have often heard it said that, at royal feasts, the magicians have summoned up lakes and rowing boats within the great hall. They have sailed up and down between the tables! They have conjured up fierce lions, about to spring. They have turned a hall into a meadow of sweet flowers. They have created fruitful vineyards, and stone castles. And then, in a puff, they have made them all vanish. That is how it seemed at the time.

‘So this is my plan. I will return to Orleans and see if I can find some old scholar who is familiar with the mysteries of the moon and who knows how to practise natural magic. And, by these means, my brother will one day possess his wished-for love. I am sure that a good magician will be able to remove from human sight all of those dark rocks. Ships will be able to come and go along the coast of Brittany, at least for a week or so. Then my brother will be relieved of his suffering. Dorigen will have to keep her promise to him, or else be dishonoured for life.’

There is no need to make a long story out of this. He went straight to his brother’s bedside, and acquainted him with the details of his plan. Aurelius was so heartened and excited by the scheme that he rose immediately and took horse to Orleans with his brother. All the way there he exulted at the thought of being permanently cured of his pain.

They were two or three furlongs distant from the city when they came upon a young scholar riding alone. They greeted him in Latin, whereupon he astounded them with his first words. ‘I know why you have come here,’ he told them. And, without more ado, he informed them of their plans. The brother of Aurelius asked him for news of the other scholars at the university and, having learned that they had all died, he broke down in tears.

Aurelius himself alighted from his horse and followed the young magician to his house in the city. Here he and his brother were nobly entertained, with all kinds of meat and drink. Aurelius had never seen so comfortable and well-stocked a house. Before they sat down to supper, their host conjured into their sight extensive forests and parks filled with wild deer. Aurelius saw, or thought he saw, stags with great horns. He had never seen beasts so great. He saw one hundred of them torn to pieces by mastiff dogs, and another hundred wounded to death with sharp arrows. When the wild deer had disappeared, he saw falconers standing by the bank of a great river; their birds had just killed a heron. And, look, there were some knights jousting on a plain. And what is this? There was Dorigen before him, dancing. Aurelius seemed to be dancing with her, too. He could hear the music.

Yet at this point the young master clapped his hands, and all the illusions vanished into thin air. Farewell. The revels all were ended. They had seen such marvels as tongue could not express, but they had not moved from his house. They were still in his study, surrounded by his books. They sat there, the three of them, in silence.

Then their host called out to his squire. ‘Is our supper ready yet? I asked you to prepare it more than an hour ago, when I brought these gentlemen into my study.’

‘Master,’ the servant replied, ‘it is ready whenever you want it. It is ready now.’

‘We will go and eat at once then. These lovers, like my friend here, need to rest between dances.’

Then, after supper, they began to discuss the fee that the magician would require. He was supposed to remove all the rocks along the coast, from the mouth of the river Gironde to the mouth of the Seine. What would that cost? He said that it would be difficult, involving many problems. All things considered, he could not accept less than a thousand pounds. God knows, even at that price, he was working cheap.