He knew and went so far as to love Bertran de Born.

Perhaps he was not too good a Christian, certainly he was a very hungry one; and kings, with the rest of the world, are to be judged by their necessities, not their professions.

So much will suffice, I hope, concerning Don Sancho the Wise.
In those days which saw Count Richard's back turned on Autafort, and Saint-Pol's broken at Tours, Bertran de Born came to Pampluna, asking to be received by the King of Navarre.

Don Sancho was glad to see him.
'Now, Bertran,' says he, 'you shall give me news of poets and the food of poets.

All the talk here is of bad debts.' 'Oy, sire,' says Bertran, 'what can I tell you?
The land is in flames, the women have streaked faces, far and wide travels the torch of war.' 'I am sorry to hear it,' says King Sancho, 'and trust that you have not brought one of those torches with you.' Bertran shook his head; interruptions worried him, for he lived maddeningly, like a man that has a drumming in his ear.
'Sire,' he said, 'there is a new strife between the Count of Poictou, "Yea-and-Nay," and the French King on this account: the Count repudiates Madame Alois.' 'Now, why does he do that, Bertran ?' cried King Sancho, opening his eyes wide.
'Sire, it is because he pretends that his father, the old King, has done him dishonour.