I, the author of this book, have decided to use my pen for my own pleasure. This is one of humankind’s inalienable rights, bestowed on us (along with the use of our limbs and heads) by the grace of God. God has reinforced this right by giving us a tongue with which to express our thoughts, while our universal freedom of speech expunges any risk that my body is embarking on a dangerous course towards losing its head or being burned at the stake. I am further emboldened by the awareness that I am approaching old age, commonly said to come to men somewhat later than to the beautiful creatures mistakenly called the weaker sex. Hence I intend to declare openly thoughts harboured in secret concerning the imperfection of human nature, sinful since the fall of Adam and Eve. And it would be a shame if my readers were to find
themselves constantly dispirited by the tale of a knight tormented by painful memories of fearsome spectacles and terrible sights. I shall therefore ginger historical accuracy with a certain spiritedness typical of people of my character and way of life.

What, then, of our knight des Baux? The historical chronicles tell us that he was a
distinguished, wealthy and skilled warrior, and that since he did not want for money, he had no need to try and hoodwink anyone. We may be certain, therefore, that his narrative is wholly truthful, and his frequent references to the Almighty may serve as a further guarantee of his veracity. When all is said and done, if this book is unsuccessful I shall have only myself to blame. Mind you, how your reading will end, only God knows. For my part, I am counting on earning good money and receiving richly-deserved worldwide recognition, along with Nobel prizes in literature, art, physics, philosophy, theology and astrology—if God so wills, of course.