C'EST D'AUCASIN ET DE NICOLETE
A MEDIEVAL CHANT-FABLE
Queen Hester, Brunetto Latino, Li Livres dou Tresor, St Petersburg Manuscript, fol. 18v
his text is found in only one
manuscript,
Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, français 2168, at folios
70
recto to 80 verso in two columns of 37 lines, beginning at the second
column.
It gives both words and music, but no illumination.

Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, français 2168, fol. 70
Its dialect is Picard, its setting in Provence and in Tunisia. Charles of Anjou, St Louis' money-grubbing, war-mongering brother, became Count of Provence and then King of Sicily, seeking even to crusade to become the Emperor of Constantinople, bleeding Sicily white with taxes, until all Europe united against him, causing the Sicilian Vespers and his containment. Amongst his circle were such literary figures as Adam de la Halle and Brunetto Latino. Their style, in opposition to that of St Louis's circle, was bourgeois rather than courtly, cosmopolitan rather than monocultural, comic rather than pious. The manuscript is thirteenth century.
It mocks at the seriousness and hypocrisy of the Arthurian romance, blending together, in the same way as will Cervantes later in his Don Quixote, the pastoral and the epic. William Empson and Mikhail Bakhtin could have used it as an example in their studies of the Pastoral and of the 'Two Worlds'. Other works in this mocking genre include Apuleius' Golden Ass, Alexander Pope's Rape of the Lock and Alexander Pushkin's Eugene Onegin. Its hero is an anti-hero, almost a Hamlet, that self-mockery of the sonnet form, of the helpless lover, though here with a lady 'kind and fair', portrayed in an argument of 'Make love, not war'. It plays games with reversals of conventions, the adynata, including those of gender, turning these inside out, the woman being the capable partner, the man afraid to fight, the woman being Saracen by birth, the man having the Saracen name, both being improbably blond, the king lying in childbirth while the queen fights his war - with apples and cheeses, such as are typically reflected in the drolleries of manuscript marginalia and in monastic misericordias. Though medieval, it is cognisant of Alexandrian pastoral romances that preceded it (reflected in both saints' legends and in romances in the Middle Ages), while foreshadowing those in Ariosto and Tasso. It is clearly meant to be presented in lively performance, with alternating melodic song and narration, interspersed also with dramatic dialogue, these last reminding one of Terence's Comedies and their dialogues between fathers and their love-lorn sons, this being a performance text. The alternation of poetry and prose, known as 'Maenippian satire', had already been consummately effected in Boethius' Consolation of Philosophy, again a work playing with gender role reversals, and would be reflected in the similar Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Indeed the form of Aucassin and Nicolete has a similar 'bob-and-wheel' as does Sir Gawain.This chant-fable ends with a happy marriage, unlike the broken discord of Camelot between Arthur and Guinevere, or the premonition of Boethius' brutal execution, though Charles of Anjou carried out similar brutal punishments on his subjects in his dungeons, cutting out their right eye, cutting off their right hand and foot. Indeed the author of the piece gives himself out as similarly imprisoned, a captive, as was Boethius and as are, self-referentially, his hero and heroine at various points in the poem, and he makes use, though with genders reversed and heterosexualized, of the story of imprisoned King Richard I and his minstrel Blondel's quest for him through song, where Nicolete quests Aucassin.
The manuscript is not illuminated. Instead, manuscript illuminations are given here from a contemporary Picardian manuscript, Li Livres dou Tresor, written by Brunetto Latino, Dante Alighieri's teacher, first for King Charles of Anjou (though later versions he wrote against his cruel, war-mongering patron). This particular manuscript, one out of many, is now in St Petersburg National Library in Russia. These reproductions are made from the fine manuscript facsimile of it published by M. Moleiro of Spain (http://www.beato-de-liebana.com). A similar manuscript from the same workshop is in the Laurentian Library in Florence.
It is hoped that this web
essay
will be of use to manuscript scholars and to undergraduate students,
the
latter of whom could even perform the text. When doing so you will find
that with feminine rhymes, like 'Biaucaire, repaire', where in sung and
in medieval French the final e is pronounced, the musical
notation
adds one extra note to those transcribed below.

Female and male centaurs
jousting,
Brunetto Latino, Li Livres dou Tresor, St Petersburg
Manuscript,
fol. 77
| THE
SONG-STORY
OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE I. 'Tis of Aucassin and
Nicolete.
|
C'EST
D'AUCASIN
ET DE NICOLETE
[Folio
70, Column B, I] |

Knights at Charlemagne's
Coronation
as Emperor by Pope, Brunetto
Latino, Li Livres dou Tresor,
St Petersburg Manuscript, fol. 24
| II.
Now they speak and they relate and they tell.
How the Count Bougars of Valence made war on Count Garin of Beaucaire, so great and so wonderful and so deadly, that not a single day dawned, but he was at the gates and the walls and the barriers of the town, with a hundred knights, and with ten thousand soldiers on foot and on horseback; and he burned his land, and laid waste to his country, and killed his men. Count Garin of Beaucaire was old and feeble, and had out-lived his time. He had no heir, neither son nor daughter, save only one boy. The latter was such as I shall tell you. Aucassin was the young lord's name. He was fair and slim, tall and well fashioned in legs and feet and body and arms. His hair was golden and in little curls; and his eyes were blue-grey and laughing; and his face was bright and oval; and his nose high and well-set; and so compact was he of good qualities, that there was none bad in him, but good only. But he was so overcome by Love, who conquers all, that he would not be a knight, nor take arms, nor go to the tourney, nor do anything of all that he ought to have done. His father and his mother said to him: `Son, now take your arms, and mount your horse, and fight for your land, and help your people! If they see you among them, they will fight better for their lives and their goods, and for your land and ours!' `Father,' said Aucassin, `what do you speak of now? God will never give me ought I ask of Him, if I will be a knight, or mount horse, or go to war or to battle, where I may strike a knight or be struck, unless you give me Nicolete, my sweet friend, whom I love so much!' `Son', said the father, `that could not be! Let Nicolete alone! For she is a captive maid, who was brought from a foreign land; and the Viscount of this town bought her from Saracens, and brought her to this town, and has reared her and baptized her, and made her his god-daughter; and one of these days he will give her for husband a young bachelor, who will earn bread for her honourably. Have nothing to do with this, and you will have a wife, I will give you the daughter of a King or a Count. There is not so rich a man in France, but if you will, you can have his daughter'. `Alas, father,' said Aucassin, `where is there on earth such great honour, but if Nicolete, my most sweet friend, had it she would become it? Were she Empress of Constantinople or of Germany, or Queen of France or of England, it would be little enough for her, so noble is she and gracious and debonair and compact of all good qualities'. |
[II]O
r dient et content et fablent
O
que li quens bougars de valence faisoit guere au conte garin de
biaucaire
si grande et si mervelleuse et si mortel qu'il ne fust uns seux jors
ajornés
qu'il ne fust as portes et as murs et as bares de le vile a cent
cev[fol.70v,col.A]aliers
et a dis mille sergens a pié et a ceval, si li argoit sa terre
et
gastoit son païs et ocioit ses homes. Li quens garins de biaucaire
estoit vix et frales, si avoit son tans trespassé. Il n'avoit
nul
oir, ne fil ne fille, fors un seul vallet: cil estoit tex con je vos
dirai.
aucasins avoit a non li damoisiax. Biax estoit et gens et grans et bien
tailliés de ganbes et de piés et de cors et de bras; il
avoit
les caviax blons et menus recercelés et les ex vairs et rians et
le face clere et traitice et le nes haut et bien assis. Et si estoit
enteciés
de bones teces qu'en lui n'en avoit nule mauvaise se bone non; mais si
estoit soupris d'Amor, qui tout vaint, q'il ne voloit estre cevalers,
ne
les armes prendre, n'aler au tornoi, ne fare point de quanque il deust.
Ses pere et se mere li disoient: Fix, car pren tes armes, si monte el
ceval,
si deffent te terre at aie tes homes: s'il te voient entr'ex, si
defenderont
il mix lors cors et lor avoirs et te tere et le miue. Pere, fait
aucassins, qu'en parlés vos ore? Ja Dix ne me doinst riens que
je
li demant, quant ere cevaliers, ne monte a ceval, ne que voise a estor
ne a bataille, la u je fiere cevalier ni autres mi, se vos ne me
donés
nicholete me douce amie que je tant aim. -Fix, fait li
peres,
ce [70v.B] ne poroit estre. nicolete laise ester, que se est une
caitive
qui fu amenee d'estrange terre, si l'acata li visquens de ceste vile as
Sarasins, si l'amena en ceste vile, si l'a levee et bautisie et faite
sa
fillole, si li donra un de ces jors un baceler qui du pain li gaaignera
par honor: de ce n'as tu que faire. Et se tu fenme vix avoir, je te
donrai
le file a un roi u a un conte: il n'a si rice home en France, se tu vix
sa fille avoir, que tu ne l'aies. -Avoi! peres, fait aucassins, ou est
ore si haute honers en terre, se nicolete me tresdouce amie l'avoit,
qu'ele
ne fust bien enploiie en li? S'ele estoit enpereris de Colstentinoble u
d'Alemaigne, u roigne de France u d'Engleterre, si aroit il
assés
peu en li, tant est france et cortoise et de bon aire et entecie de
toutes
bones teces. |

| III. Now
it is sung. Aucassin was of Biaucaire ![]() And abode in castle fair. None can move him to forget Dainty-fashioned Nicolete, Whom his sire to him denies; And his mother sternly cries: `Out on you! what will you, fool! Nicolete is blithe and fair Castaway from Carthage she! Bought of paynim company! If with a woman you will mate Take a wife of great estate!' `Mother, I cannot do else! Nicolete is debonair; Her lithe form, her face, her fairness, Do the heart of me enkindle, Fairly mine her love may be,
|
[III] Or
se cante. A ucassins fu de biaucaire ![]() D'un castel del bel repaire D e nicole le bien faite N uis hom ne l'en puet retraire Q ue ses peres ne l'i laisse E t sa mere le manace D i va! faus, que vex tu faire? N icolete est cointe et gaie J etee fu de Cartage A catee fu d'un Saisne P uis qa'a moullié te vix traire [71.A] P ren femme de haut parage M ere, je n'en puis el faire N icolete est de boin aire S es gens cors et son viaire S a biautés le cuer m'esclaire B ien est drois que s'amor aie ![]() Que trop est douce |

| IV. Now
speak they and relate and tell.
When the Count Garin of Beaucaire saw that he should not be able to turn Aucassin his son from his love for Nicolete, he went his way to the Viscount of the town, who was his vassal, and addressed him: `Sir Viscount! Now get rid of Nicolete your god-daughter! Accursed be the land from which she was brought to this country! For through her I lose Aucassin; since he will not be a knight, nor do anything of all that he ought to do. And know well that if I can get hold of her I will burn her in a fire; and you too may have the utmost fear for yourself!' `Sir,' said the Viscount, `It grieves me that he goes to her, or that he comes to her, or that he speaks to her. I had bought her with my money, and had reared her, and baptized her, and made her my god-daughter, and I would have given her a young bachelor, who would have earned bread for her honourably. With this would Aucassin your son have nothing to do. But since it is your will and your good pleasure, I will send her to such a land and to such a country that he shall nevermore see her with his eyes.' `Now have a care to yourself!' said Count Garin', `Great trouble might come of it to you'. They parted. And the Viscount was a very rich man, and had a rich palace overlooking a garden. In a chamber of this he had Nicolete placed, on an upper story, and an old woman to keep her company and society; and he had bread put there, and flesh, and wine, and whatever they had need of. Then he had the door sealed up, so that there was no way to go in there, nor to go out, except that there was a window overlooking the garden, small enough, through which there came to them a little fresh air. |
[IV] Or dient et content et flablent. Quant
li guens garins de biaucaire vit qu'il ne poroit aucassin son fil
retraire
des amors nicolete, it trait au visconte de le vle qui ses hon estoit,
si l'apela: Sire quens, car ostés nicolete vostre filole! Que la
tere soit maleoite dont ele fu amenee en cest païs! C'or par li
pert
jou aucassin, qu'il ne veut estre cevaliers, ne faire point de quanque
faire doie; et saciés bien que, se je le puis avoir, que je
l'arderai
en un fu, et vous meismes porés avoir de vos tote peor. -
Sire, fait li visquens, ce poise moi qu'il va ne qu'il i vient ne qu'il
i parole. Je l'avoie acatee de mes deniers, si l'avoie levee et
bautisie
et faite ma filole, si li donasse un baceler qui du pain li gaegnast
par
honor: de ce n'eust aucassins vos fix que faire. Mais puis que vostre
volentés
est et vos bons, je l'envoierai en tel tere et en tel païs que ja
mais ne le verra de ses ex. - Ce gardés vous! fait li
quens
Garins: grans maus vos en porroit venir. [71.B] Il se departent. Et li
visquens estoit molt rices hom, si avoit un rice palais par devers un
gardin.
En une canbre la fist metre nicolete en un haut estage et une vielle
aveuc
li por conpagnie et por soisté tenir, et s'i fist metre pain et
car et vin et quanque mestiers lor fu; puis si fist l'uis seeler c'on
n'i
peust de nule part entrer ne iscir, fors tant qu'il i avoit une
fenestre
par devers le gardin assés petite dont il lor venoit un peu
d'essor.
|

Coronation of the Queen of the
Amazons, Brunetto Latino, Li Livres dou Tresor, fol. 13v.
v
| V. Now
it is sung. Nicolete is now a prisoner ![]() In a vaulted chamber set, That was wrought by cunning rare, Painted marvellously fair. At the marble window-bay, There she leaned, that luckless maid. Of pale gold was her hair, Exquisite her eyebrows were, Bright her face, curved delicately; Lovelier did you never see. O'er the woodland gazed she out, Saw the rose bloom all about, Heard the bird call to its mate; Then she wept her orphan fate: `Woe is me! poor captive maid! Why am I in prison laid? Aucassin, liege lording dear, Now I am thy loving friend, Nor by you am I abhorred: For your sake I am in ward, In this painted chamber held, Where full evil days I spend. But, O Son of Mary Virgin!, I will not stay here long,
|
Or
se cante. ![]() N icole est in prison mise En une canbre vautie K i faite est par grant devisse, P anturee a miramie. A la fenestre marbrine L a s'apoia la mescine: E le avoit blonde la crigne E t bien faite la sorcille, L a face clere et traitice; A inc plus bele ne veïstos. E sgarda par le gaudine E t vit la rose espanie E t les oisax qui se crient, D ont se clama orphenine: A i mi! lasse moi, caitive! P or coi sui en prison misse? A ucassins, demoisiax sire, J a sui jou li vostre amie E t vos ne me haés mie; P or vos sui en prison misse E n ceste canbre vautie [71v.A] U je trai molt male vie; M ais, par Diu le fil Marie L ongement n'i serai mie, ![]() S e iel puis fare. |

| VI. Then
speak they and relate and tell.
Nicolete was in prison, as you have listened and herd, in the chamber. The hue and cry went through all the land and through all the country, that Nicolete was lost. Some say that she fled out of the land; and some say Count Garin of Beaucaire had her slain. Whoever may have rejoiced at it, Aucassin was not glad; but he went his way to the Viscount of the town, and said to him: `Sir Viscount, what have you done to Nicolete, my most sweet friend, the one that I loved best in all the world? Have you carried her off, or stolen her away from me? Know well that if I die of this, vengeance will be demanded of you for it, and very right will it be. Since you will have slain me with your two hands; for you have taken from the thing that I loved best in the world'. `Fair sir,' said the Viscount, `let it be! Nicolete is a captive maide, whom I brought from a foreign land, and I bought her with my coins from the Saracens. I have reared her, and baptized her and made her my god-daughter, and have cherished her, and one of these days I should have given her to a young bachelor who would earned bread for her honourably. Which this you have nothing to do; but instead take the daughter of a king or of a count. Moreover, what do you think you would gain, if you made her your paramour, and taken her to your bed? Very little would you have won, for your soul would be in Hellfire for all Eternity, since you would never enter Paradise!' `What have I to do with Paradise? I seek not to enter there, unless to be with Nicolete my most sweet friend, whom I love so much. For none go to Paradise, except only these. Those old priests go there, and old cripples, and maimed wretches, who grovel all day and all night before those altars and in those old crypts; and folk clothed in old threadbare cloacks, and old rags and tatters, who are naked and barefoot and full of sores, who die of hunger and thirst and cold and misery. They go to Paradise. With them I have nothing to do, but to Hell will I go. For to Hell go the fine clerks and the fine knights, who have died in tourneys and in great wars, and the brave soldiers and the noble men. With those I will go. And there too go the fair and gracious ladies who have two or three friends besides their lord; and there go the sgold and the silver, and the vair and the grey of fur, and there too fo harpers and minstrels and kings of the world. With those will I go, if only I have Nicolete, my most sweet friend, with me'. `Assuredly', said the Viscount, you speak to no avail, since you will never see her again. And if you should speak to her, and your father knew of it, he would burn both me and her in a fire, and you yourself might have the utmost fear'. `This troubles me!' said Aucassin. He departs from the Viscount, sad at heart. |
Or dient et content et fablent. Nicolete
fu en prison, si que vous avés oï et entendu, en le canbre.
Li cris et le noise ala par tote le terre et par tot le païs que
nicolete
estoit perdue: li auquant dient qu'ele est fuie fors de la terre, et li
auquant dient que li quens garins de biaucaire l'a faite mordrir. Qui
qu'en
eust joie, aucassins n'en fu mie liés, ains traist au visconte
de
la vile, si l'apela. Sire visquns, c'avés vos fait de nicolete
ma
tresdouce amie, le riens en tot le mont que je plus amoie? Avés
le me vos tolue ne enblee? Saciés bien que, se je en muir, faide
vous en sera demandee; et ce sera bien drois, que vos m'arés
ocis
a vos deus mains, car vos m'avés tolu la riens en cest mont que
je plus amoie. - Biax sire, fait li quens, car laisciés ester.
nicolete
est une caitive que j'amenai d'estrange tere, si l'acatai de mon avoir
a Sarasins, si l'ai levee et bautisie et fait ma fillole, si l'ai
nourie,
si li donasce un de ces jors un baceler qui del pain li gaegnast par
honor:
de ce n'avés vos que faire. Mais prendés le fille a un
roi
u un conte. [71v.B] Enseurquetot, que cuideriés vous avoir
gaegnié,
se vous l'aviés asognentee ne mise a vo lit? Mout i ariés
peu conquis, car tos les jors du siecle en seroit vo arme en infer,
qu'en
paradis n'enterriés vos ja. - En paradis qu'ai je a faire?
Je n'i quier entrer, mais que j'aie nicolete ma tresdouce amie que
j'aim
tant; c'en paradis ne vont fors tex gens con je vous dirai. Il i vont
ci
viel prestre et cil viel clop et cil manke qui tote jor et tote nuit
cropent
devant ces autex et en sec viés creutes, et cil a ces
viés
capes ereses et a ces viés tatereles vestues, qui sont nu et
decauc
et estrumelé, qui moeurent de faim et de soi et de froit et de
mesaises;
icil vont en paradis: aveuc ciax n'ai jou que faire. Mais en infer voil
jou aler, car en infer vont li bel clerc, et li bel cevalier qui sont
mort
as tornois et a rices gueres, et li buen sergant et li franc home:
aveuc
ciax voil jou aler; et s'i vont les beles dames cortoises que eles ont
deus amis ou trois avoc leur barons, et s'i va li ors et li argens et
li
vairs et li gris, et si i vont herpeor et jogleor et li roi del siecle:
avoc ciax voil jou aler, mais que j'aie nicolete ma tresdouce amie
aveuc
mi. - Certes, fait li visquns, [72.A] por nient en
parlerés,
que ja mais ne le verrés; et se vos i parlés et vos peres
le savoit, il arderoit et mi et li en un fu, et vos meismes
porriés
avoir toute paor. - Ce poise moi, fait aucassins; se se depart
del
visconte dolans.
|

| VII. Now
it is sung. Aucassin has turned and passed. ![]() Sorrowful and sore down-cast, All for his bright-favoured maid, None can counsel him nor cheer. To the palace he went home: There the outer steps he climbs, To a chamber enters in, And begins to weep therein, And ado most doleful make And lament his fair love's sake. `Nicolete, your pretty bearing! Your sweet speech and pretty joying, Pretty jesting, pretty toying, Pretty kissing, pretty coying! For you I am in such tene, And so ill bested, I ween Never hence alive to wend,
|
[VII] Or
se cante Aucasins s'en est torné ![]() M olt dolans et abosmés: D e s'amie o le vis cler N us ne le puet conforter, N e nul bon consel doner. V ers le palais est alés; I l en monta les degrés, E n une canbre est entrés, S i comença a plorer E t grant dol a demener E t s'amie a regreter. N icolete, biax esters, B iax venir et biax alers, B iax borders et biax jouers, B iax baisiers, biax acolers, P or vos sui si adolés E t si malement menés Q ue je n'en cuit vis aler, ![]() S uer douce amie. |

| VIII. Now
speak they and relate and tell.
Whilst Aucassin was in the chamber, and was bewailing Nicolete his friend, Count Bougart of Valence, who had his war to carry on, did nt gforget it, but had summoned his men on foot and on horse, and advanced to assult the castle. And the cry arose and the noise; and the knights and the soldiers arm themselves, and rush to the gate and to the walls to defend the castle; and the townsfolk go up to the alures of the walls, and throw quarrels and sharpened stakes. While the attack was great and plenary, the Count Garin of Beaucaire came into the chamger where Aucassin was making moan and bewailing Nicolete his most sweet friend, whom he loved so much. `Ah, son!' he said, `Caitif you are and miserable! For you see assault made on your castle, altogether the best and the strongest! And know that if you lose it you are disinherited! So, now take arms, and mount horse, and fight for your land, and help your men! Strike never a man nor they you, but if they see you among them, they will fight better for their goods and their lives, and your land and mine. And you are so tall and so strong, that you are well able to do it, and do it you ought.' `Father,' said Aucassin, `what do you speak of now? Never God give me anything I ask of him, if I be a knight and mount horse or go to onset, where I may strike knight or they me, unless you give me Nicolete, my sweet friend, whom I love so much.' `Son', said the father, `that cannot be! Rather I would endure to be utterly dispossessed, and to lose all that I have, than that you should ever have to woman or to wife!' He turned away. And when Aucassin saw him going away, he called him back. `Father,' said Aucassin, `come here! I will make a fair convenant with you!' `And what is that, fair son'. `I will take arms and go to the onset by such covenant, - that if God bring me back safe and sound, you will let me see Nicolete, my sweet friend, long enough to have spoken two words or three to her, and to have kissed on single time'. `I consent to it!', said the father. He grants it him, and Aucassin was glad. |
Or dient et content et fablent. Entreusque aucassins estoit en le canbre et il regretoit nicolete s'amie, li quens bougars de val[72.B]ence, qui sa guerre avoit a furnir, ne s'oublia mie, ains ot mandé ses homes a pié et a ceval, si traist au castel por asalir. Et li cris lieve et la noise, et li cevalier et li serjant s'arment et querent as portes et as murs por le castel desfendre, et li borgois montent as aleoirs des murs, si jetent quariax et peus aguisiés. Entroeusque li asaus estoit grans et pleniers, et li quens garins de biaucaire vint en la canbre u aucassins faisoit deul et regretoit nicolete sa tresdouce amie que tant amoit. Ha! fix, fait il, con par es caitis et maleurox, que tu vois c'on asaut ton castel tot le mellor et le plus fort; et saces, se tu le pers, que tu es desiretés. Fix, car pren les armes et monte u ceval et defen te tere et aiues tes homes et va a l'estor: ja n'i fieres tu home ni autres ti, s'il te voient entr'ax, si desfonderont il mix lor avoir et lor cors et te tere et le miue; et tu ies si grans et si fors que bien le pués faire, et farre le dois. - Pere, fait aucassins, qu'en parlés vous ore? Ja Dix ne me doinst riens que je li demant, quant ere cevaliers, ne monte el ceval, ne voise en estor, le u je fiere cevalier ne autres mi, se vos ne me [72v.A] donés nicolete me douce amie que je tant aim. - Fix, dist le pere, ce ne puet estre: ançois sosferoie jo que je feusse tous desiretés et que je perdisse quanques g'ai que tu ja l'euses a mollier ni a espousse. Il s'en torne; et quant aucassins l'en voit aler, il le rapela: Peres, fait aucassins, venés avant: je vous ferai bons couvens. - Et quex, biax fix? - Je prendrai les armes, s'irai a l'estor, par tex covens que se Dix me ramaine sain et sauf, que vos me lairés nicolete me douce amie tant veir que j'aie deus paroles u trois a li parlees et que je l'aie une seule fois baisie. -Je l'otroi, fait li peres. Il le creante et aucassin fu lié.
|

| IX.
Now it is sung: A ucassin heard of the kiss ![]() Which shall on return be his. Had one given him of pure gold Marks a hundred thousand told, Not so blithe of heart he were. Rich array he bade them bear: They made ready for his wear. He put on a hauberk lined, Helmet on his head did bind, Girt on his sword with hilt pure gold, Mounted on his charger bold; Spear and buckler then he took; At his two feet cast a look: They trod in the stirrups trim. Wondrous proud he carried him. His dear love he thought upon, And his good horse spurred anon, Who right eagerly went on. Through the gate he rode straightway,
|
[IX] Or
se cante Aucassins ot du baisier ![]() Qu'il ara au repairier: P or cent mile mars d'or mier N e le fesist on si lié. G arnemens demanda ciers, O n li a aparelliés: I l vest en auberc dublier E t laça l'iaume en son cief, Ç ainst l'espee au poin d'or mier, S i monta sor son destrier E t prent l'escu et l'espiel; R egarda andex ses piés, B ien li sissent es estriers; A mervelle se tint ciers. D e s'amie il sovient, S 'esperona le destrier; I l li cort molt volentiers: T ot droit a le porte en vient a la bataille. |

| X. Now
they speak and relate and tell.
Aucassin was in arms upon his horse, as you have listened and heard. Heavens! how well sat his shield on his neck, and his helmet on his head, and his sword belt on his left hip! And the boy was tall and strong and fair and slim and well-made, and the horse, on which he sat, was eager and mettlesome, and the boy had ridden him well through the gateway. Now do you not suppose that he would have thought of taking spoil of oxen or of cows or of goats, and that he would have struck knight and other him? Never a deal! Not once did he bethink him of it; but he thought so much upon Nicolete, his sweet friend, that he forgot his reins and whatever he ought to do. And the horse, who had felt the spurs, carried him on into the throng, and dashed right into the thick of his foes. And they laid hands upon him from every side, and stripped him of his shield and his lance, and led him off prisoner then and there; and were already discussing by what death they should cause him to die. And when Aucassin heard it: `Ah Heaven', he said, `gentle creature! Are these my mortal foes who are here leading me, and who will even now cut off my head? And when once I had had my head cut off, nevermore shall I speak to Nicolete, my sweet friend whom I love so much! Yet have I here a good sword, and bestride a good steed still fresh! And I now defend me not for her sake, ne'er help her Heaven, if ever again she love me!' The boy was tall and storng, and the horse on which he sat was restive. And he puts his hand to his sword, and begins to strike to right and to left, and cleaves helmets and nasals and fists and arms, and makes a havoc all round him, just as the wild board when the dogs set on him in the forest; so that he overthrew ten knights of them, and wounded seven, and dashed then and there out of the throng, and rode back again full gallop, sword in hand. Count Bougart of Valencia heard say that they were about to hang Aucassin his enemy, and he came that way; and Aucassin mistook him not. He held his sword in his hand, and struck him full on the helmet, so that he beat it in on his head. The Count was so stunned that he fell to the earth; and Aucassin put out his hand and took him, and led him away prisoner by the nasal of his helmet, and gave him up to his father. `Father', said Aucassin, `see, here is your enemy who has made such war on you, and done you such evil. Twenty years has this war now lasted; never was there any man that could put an end to it'. `Fair son,' said the father, `such exploits should you do, not gape after folly!'. `Father', said Aucassin, `do not preach at me, but keep my covenant!' `Ha! what covenant, fair son?' `Alack, father! Have you forgotten it? By my head, forget it who may, I will not forget it, but it has fast hold of me in the hurt. Did you not covenant with me, when I took my arms and went to the onset, that if God brought me back safe and sound, you would let me see Nicolete, my sweet friend, so much as to speak two words or three to her, and to kiss her once? This you had in covenant with me and this I will you keep with me!' `I?' said the father. `N'er help Heaven, if ever I keep covenant with you herin! And if she was here now, I would burn her in a fire, and you yourself might be in the utmost fear!' `Is this the whole end?' said Aucassin. `So help me Heaven,' said his father, `yes'. `Certes,' said Aucassin, `now ma I very sorry when a man of your age lies! Count of Valenica' said Aucassin' `I have made you prisoner!' `Yes, verily', said the Count. `Give me here your hand!' said Aucassin. `Sir, willingly!' He put his hand in his. `Now do you promise me', said Aucassin, `that never, on any day you may have to live, shall it be in your power to do insult to my father, or to molest him in his person or in his property, but you will do it to him?' `Sir, in Heaven's name,' said he, `mock me not, but set me a ransom! You can ask of me neither gold nor silver, nor steeds nor palfreys, that I will not give you!' `How?' said Aucassin, `know you not that I have made you prisoner?' `Sir, yes!' said Count Bougart. `Ne'er help me Heaven,' said Aucassin, `and you promise it me not, if I do not now send that head of yours flying!' `In Heaven's name,' said he, `I promise you whatever it pleases you!' He promised him; and Aucassin made him mount on a horse, and he himself mounted another, and escorted him till he was in safety. |
[X] Or dient et content [72v.B] Aucassins
fu armés sor son ceval, si con vos avés oï et
entendu.
Dix! con li sist li escus au col et li hiaumes u cief et li renge de
s'espee
sor le senestre hance! Et li vallés fu grans et fors et biax et
gens et bien fornis, et li cevaus sor quoi il sist rades et corans, et
li vallés l'ot bien adrecié par mi la porte. Or ne
quidiés
vous qu'il pensast n'a bués n'a vaces n'a civres prendre, ne
qu'il
ferist cevalier ne autres lui. Nenil nient! onques ne l'en sovint; ains
pensa tant a nicolete sa douce amie qu'il oublia ses resnes et quanques
il dut faire; et li cevax qui ot senti les esperons l'en porta par mi
le
presse, se se lance tres entre mi ses anemis; et il getent les mains de
toutes pars, si le prendent, si le dessaisisent de l'escu et de le
lance,
si l'en mannent tot estrousement pris, et aloient ja porparlant de quel
mort il feroient morir. Et quant aucassins l'entendi: Ha! Dix, fait il,
douce creature! sont çou mi anemi mortel qut si me mainent et
qui
ja me cauperont le teste? Et puis que j'arai la teste caupee, ja mais
ne
parlerai a nicolete me douce amie que je tant aim. Encor ai je ci une
bone
espee et siec sor bon destrie sejorné: se or ne me deffent por
li,
onques Dix ne li aït se ja mais m'aime! Li vallés fu grans
et fors, et li cevax so quoi il sist fu remuans; et il mist le main a
l'espee,
si comence a [73.A] ferir a destre et a senestre et caupe hiaumes et
caseus
et puins et bras et fait un caple entor lui, autresi con li senglers
quant
li cien l'asalent en le forest, et qu'il lor abat did cevaliers et
navre
set et qu'il se jete tot estroseement de le prese et qu'il s'en revient
les galopiax ariere, s'espee en sa main. Li quens bougars de valence
oï
dire c'on penderoit aucassin son anemi, si venoit cele part; et
aucassins
ne le mescoisi mie: il tint l'espee en la main, se la fiert par mi le
hiaume
si qu'i li enbare el cief. Il fu si estonés qu'il caï a
terre;
et aucassins tent le main, si le prent et l'en mainne pris par le nasel
del hiame et le rent a son pere. Pere, fait aucassins, ves ci vostre
anemi
qui tant vous a gerroié et mal fait: vint ans ja dure ceste
guerre;
onques ne pot iestre acievee par home. -Biax fix, fait le pere,
tes
enfance devés vos faire, nient baer a folie. -Pere, fait
aucassins,
ne m'alés mie sermonant, amis tenés moi mes covens. - Ba!
quex covens, biax fix? - Avoi! pere, avés les vos obliees? Par
mon
cief! qui que les oblit, he nes voil mie oblier, ains me tient molt au
cuer. Enne m'eustes vos en covent que, quant je pris les armes et
j'alai
a l'estor, que, se Dix me ramenoit sain et sauf, que vos me
lairiés
nicolete ma douce amie tant veir que j'aroie parlé a li deus
paroles
[73.B] ou trois? Et que je l'aroie une fois baisie m'eustes vos en
covent!
Et ce voil je que vos me tenés. -Jo? fait li peres; ja Dix ne
m'aït,
quant ja covens vos en tenrai; et s'ele estoit ja ci, je l'arderoie en
un fu, et vos meismes porriés avoir tote paor. -Est se
tote
la fins? fait aucassins. -Si m'aït Dix, fait li peres,
oï.
-Certes, fait aucassins, je sui molt dolans quant hom de vostre eage
ment.
Quens de Valence, fait aucassins, je vos ai pris. - Sire, voire,
fait li quens. - Bailés ça vostre main, fait aucassins. -
Sire, volentiers. I le met se main en la siue. Ce m'afiés vos,
fait
aucassins, que, a nul jor que vos aiés a vivre, ne porrés
men pere faire honte n destorbier de sen cors ne de sen avoir que vos
ne
li faciés. - Sire, por Diu, fait il, ne me gabés mie;
mais
metés moi a raençon; vos ne me sarés ja demander
or
ni argent, cevaus ne palefrois, ne vair ne gris, ciens ne oisiax, que
je
ne vos doinse. -Coment? fait aucassins; ene connissiés vos
que je vos ai pris? -Sire, oie, fait li quens borgars. -Ja Dis ne
m'aït, fait aucassins, se vos ne le m'afies, se je ne vous fac ja
cele teste voler. -Enondu! fait il, je vous afie quanque il vous
plaist.
Il li afie; at aucassins le fait monter sor un ceval, et il monte sor
un
autre, si le |

| XI. Now
it is sung. Now Count Garin, when he saw ![]() Aucassin will ne'er withdraw From bright-favoured Nicolete, In a prison had him set, In a dark cell under ground, With grey marble walled around. Now when Aucassin came there, Sad he was, so was he ne'er! Loud lamenting he fell on Thus as you shall hear anon: `Nicolete, O love lily! Sweet love-friend, so bright of blee! Sweet as cluster of the vine, Sweet as mede in maselyn! Saw I this some yesterday: On a bed a pilgrim lay, (Who of Limousin was bred,) Sick with fever of the head. Very sore was he in pain, With most grievous sickness ta'en. By his bedside thou didst fare, And thy long train liftedst there, And thy dainty ermine frock, And thy snowy linen smock, Till thy white limbs he might see. Straight the pilgrim healed was he, Whole as he was ne'er before. From his bed he rose once more, And to his own land did flit, Safe and sound, whole every whyit. Sweet love-friend, white lily blowing! Fair thy coming, fair thy going, Fair thy jesting, fair thy toying, Fair thy speaking, fair thy joying Sweet thy kiss and sweet thy coying! None could hate thee, Nicolete! 'Tis for thy sake I am set In this dark cell under ground, Where I make most doleful sound. Now to die behoveth me,
|
[XI] Or
se cante. [73v.A] Qant or voit il quns garins ![]() D e son enfant aucassin Q u'il ne pora departir D e nicolete au cler vis, E n une prison l'a mis E n un celier sosterin Q ui fu fas de marbre bis. Q uant or i vint aucassins, D olans fu, ainc ne fu si; A dementer si se prist S i con vos porrés oïr: N icolete, flors de lus, P lus es douce que roisins N e que soupe en maserin. L 'autr' ier vi un pelerin, N es estoit de Limosin, M alades de l'esvertin, S i gisoit ens en un lit, M out par estoit entrepris, D e grant mal amaladis; T u passas devant son lit, S i soulevas ton traïn E t ton peliçon ermin, L a cemisse de blanc lin, T ant que ta ganbete vit: G aris fu li pelerins E t tos sains, ainc ne fu si; S i se leva de son lit, S i rala en son païs S ains et saus et tos garis. D oce amie, flors de lis, B iax alers et biax venirs, [73v.B] B iax jouers et biax bordirs, B iax parlers et biax delis, D ox baisiers et dox sentirs, N us ne vous poroit haïr. P or vos sui en prison mis E n ce clier sousterin U je fac mout male fin; O r m'i convenra morir ![]() P or vos, amie. |

| XII. Now
they speak and they relate and they tell.
Aucassin was put in prison, as you have listened and heard, and Nicolete, on the other hand, was in the chamber. It was in the summer time, in the month of May, when the days are warm, long and bright, and the nights still and cloudless. Nicolete lay one night in her bed, and saw the moon shine through a window, and heard the nightingale sing in the garden, and then she bethought her of Aucassin her friend, whom she loved so much. She began to consider of Count Garin of Beaucaire, who hated her to death; and she thought to herself that she would remain there no longer; since if she were betrayed, and Count Garin knew it, he would make her die an evil death. She perceived that the old woman who was with her was asleep. She got up, and put on a gown which she had of cloth-of-solk and very good; and she took bed-clothes and towels, and tied one to another, and made a rope as long as she could, and tied it to the pillar of the window, and let herself down into the garden; and she took her dress in one hand before and in the other behind, and tucked it up, because of the dew which she saw thick on the grass; and she went away down the garden. Her hair was golden and in little curls, and her eyes blue-grey and laughing, and her face oval, and her nose high and well-set, and her lips vermeil, so as is no cherry nor rose in summer-time, and her teeth white and small; and her bosom was firm, and heaved her dress as if it had been two walnuts; and ateween the sides she was so slender that you could have clasped her in your two hands; and the daisy blossoms which she broke off with the toes of her feet, which lay fallen over on the bend of her foot, were right black against her feet and her legs, so very white was the maiden. She came to the postern door, and unfastened it, and went out through the streets of Beaucaire, keeping in the shadow, for the moon shone very bright; and she went on till she came to the tower where her lover was. The tower was shored up here and there, and she crouched down by one of the pillars, and wrapped herself in her mantle; and she thrust her head into a chink in the tower, which was old and ruinous, and heard Aucassin within weeping and making great ado, and lamenting for his sweet friend whom he loved so much. And when she had listened enough to him she began to speak. |
[XII] Or dient et content et fabloient. Aucassins fu mis en prison, si come vos avés oï et entendu, et nicolete fu d'autre part en le canbre. Ce fu el tans d'esté, el mois de mai que li jor sont caut, lonc et cler, et les nuis coies et series. nicolete jut une nuit en son lit, si vit la lune luire cler par une fenestre et si oï le lorseilnol center en garding, se li sovint d'aucassin sen ami qu'ele tant amoit. Ele se comença a porpenser del conte garin de biaucaire qui de mort le haoit; si se pensa qu'ele ne remanroit plus ilec, que, s'ele estoit acusee et le quens Garins le savoit, il le feroit de male mort morir. Ele senti que li vielle dormoit qui aveuc li estoit; ele se leva, si vesti un bliaut de drap de soie que ele avoit molt bon, si prist dras de lit et touailes, si noua l'un a l'autre, si fist une corde si longe conme el pot, si le noua au piler de le fenestre; si s'avela contreval le gardin, et prist se vesture a l'une main devant et a l'autre deriere, si s'escorça por le rousee qu'ele vit grande sor l'erbe, si s'en ala aval le gardin. Ele [74.A] avoit les caviaus blons et menus recercelés, et les ex vairs et rians, et le face traitice, et le nes haut et bien assis, et lé levretes vremelletes plus que ne's cerisse ne rose el tans d'esté, et les dens blans et menus; et avoit les mameletes dures qui li souslevoient sa vesteure ausi con se fuissent deus nois gauges; et estoit grailled par mi les flans qu'en vos dex mains le peusciés enclorre; et les flors de margerites qu'ele ronpoit as ortex de ses piés, qui li gissoient sor. le menuisse du pié par deseure, estoient droites noires avers ses piés et ses ganbes, tant par estoit blance la mescinete. Elle vint au postic, si le deffrema, si s'en isci par mi les rues de biaucaire par devers l'onbre, car la lune luisoit molt clere, et erra tant qu'ele vint a le tor u ses amis estoit. Li tors estoit faelee de lius en lius; et ele se quatist delés l'un des pilers, si s'estraint en son mantel, si mist sen cief par mi une creveure de la tor qui vielle estoit et anciienne, so oï aucassin qui la dedens plouroit et faisoit mot grant dol et regretoit se douce amie que tant amoit. Et quant et l'ot assés escouté, si comença a dire.
|

| XIII.
Now it is sung: Nicolete the bright of brow ![]() On a pillar leanest thou, All Aucassin's wail dost hear For his love that is so dear, Then thou spakest, shrill and clear, "Gentle knight withouten fear Little good befalleth thee, Little help of sigh or tear, Ne'er shalt thou have joy of me. Never shalt thou win me; still Am I held in evil will Of thy father and thy kin, Therefore must I cross the sea, And another land must win." Then she cut her curls of gold, Cast them in the dungeon hold, Aucassin doth clasp them there, Kissed the curls that were so fair, Them doth in his bosom bear, Then he wept, even as of old,
|
[XIII] Or
se cante. N icolete o le vis cler S' apoia a un piler, [74.B] S 'oï aucassin plourer E t s'amie regreter; O r parla, dist son penser: A cassins, gentix et ber, F rans damoisiax honorés, Q ue vos vaut li dementer, L i plaindres ne li plurers, Q uant ja de moi ne gorés? C ar vostre peres me het E t trestos vos parentés. P or vous passerai le mer, S 'irai en autre regné. D e ses caviax a caupés, L a dedans les a rüés. A ucassins les prist, li ber, S i les a molt honerés E t baisiés et acolés; E n sen sain les a boutés; S i recomence a plorer, T out por s'amie. |

| XIV. Now
they speak and they relate and they tell.
When Aucassin heard Nicolete say that she would go away into another land, there was no room in him but for anger. `Fair sweet friend,' said he, `you shall not go away, for then would you have slain me. And the first that should see you or that should be able, would lay hands on you straightway, and take you to his bed, and make you his paramour. And when once you should have lain in other man's bed than mine, now think not that I should wait till I found a knifte, wherewith I might strike me to the heart and kill me! Nay, verily, so long would I not wait; but I would fling me so far as I might see a wall or a grey stone, and would dash my head against it so hard that I should make my eyes start out, and beat out my brains altogether. Yet would I rather die such a death as that, than know that you had lain in other man's bed than mine'. `Alas!' said she, `I do not believe that you love me so much as you say; but I love you more than you do me!' `Alack!' said Aucassin, `fair sweet friend! It could not be that you should love me so much as I do you! Woman cannot love man so much as man loves woman. For the love of woman is in her eye, and in the tip of the nipple of her breast, and in the tip of the toe of her foot; but the love man is planted within in the heart, whence it cannot go out'. While Aucassin and Nicolete were talking together, the watchmen of the town came all along a street, and they had their swords drawn under their cloaks. For Count Garin had commanded them, that if they could take her they should kill her. And the warder who was on the tower saw them coming, and heard that they were talking of Nicolete, and that they threatened to kill her. `Heavens!', said he, `How great were the loss of so fair a maiden, should they kill her! And it would be a very great kindness if I could tell her, so that they should not perceive it, and that she might save herself from them. For if they kill her, then will Aucassin my young lord die, whose will be a great loss'. |
[XIV] Or
dient et content et fabloient.
Qant
aucassins oï dire nicolete qu'ele s'en voloit aler en autre
païs,
en lui n'ot que courecier. Bele douce amie, fait il, vos n'en
irés
mie, car dont |

| XV. Now
it is sung. Brave the warder was indeed, ![]() Gallant, gentle, good of rede. He began to sing straightway A right good and pleasant lay. `Maiden of the noble heart, Winsome fair of form you are, Golden tresses winsome fair, Laughing face and eyes of vair. By thy looks I see full plain With thy love thou'st spoke again, Who for thee is in death's way. Now thou hearest that I saw: Of yon treacherous men beware, Who on all sides hunt thee there! 'Neath their cloaks their drawn swords be; Loudly do they threaten thee; Soon will they some mischief do thee,
|
[XV] Or
se cante Li gaite fu mout vaillans, [74.B] ![]() Preus et cortois et saçans; I l a commencié un cant K i biax fu et avenans. M escinete o le cuer franc, C ors as gent et avenant. L e poil blont et reluisant, V airs les ex, ciere riant; B ien le voi a ton sanblant, P arlé as a ton amant Q ui por toit se va morant. J el te di et tu l'entens: G arde toi des souduians K i par ci te vont querant, S ous les capes le nus brans; F orment te vont maneçant, T ost te feront messeant, ![]() S' or ne t'i gardes. |

| XVI. Now
they speak and they relate and they tell.
"Ah!, said Nicolete, `may the soul of your father and of your mother be in blessed repose, for that so fairly and so courteously you have now told me of it! An't please God I will take good care of myself, and may God take care of me!' She wrapped herself in her mantle in the shadow of the pillar, till they were passed on beyond; and she took leave of Aucassin, and went her way till she came to the outer wall of the castle. The wall was broken down and had been repaired, and she climbed up upon it, and made her way till she was between the wall and the moat, and she looked down and saw that the moat was very deep and very steep, and she was very much afraid. `Oh Heaven, !' she said, `gentle creature!' If I let myself fall, I shall break my neck; and if I stay here, they will take me to-morrow, and they will burn me in a fire. Yet would I rather die here, than that all the folk should stare at me tomorrow wondering!' She crossed herself, and let herself slip down the moat; and when she came to the bottom, her beautiful feet and her beautiful hands, which had never learned that they might be hurt, were bruised and torn, and the blood flowed from them in full twelve places; and nevertheless she felt neither hurt nor pain for the great fear she was in. And if she had trouble in getting in, she had far greater in getting out. She bethought her that it did no good to linger there; and she found a pointed stake, which those within had thrown to defend the castle; and she made steps one above the other, and so climbed up with great difficulty till she came to the top. Now the forest was hard by, within two bowshots, which stretched full thirty leagues in length and in breadth; and in it there were wild beasts and serpents. She was afraid that if she went into it these things would kill her; and then again she bethought her, that if she was found in that place she would be taken back to the town to be burned. |
[XVI] Or
dient et content et fabloient.
Hé!
fait nicolete, l'ame de ten pere et de te mere soit en benooit repos,
quant
si belement et si cortoisement le m'as ore dit. Se Diu plaist, je m'en
garderai bien, et Dix m'en gart! Ele s'estraint en son mantel en
l'onbre
del piler, tant que cil furent passé outre; et ele prent
congié
a aucassin, si s'en va tant qu'ele vint au mur del castel. Li murs fu
depeciés,
s'estoit rehordés, et ele monta deseure, si fist tant qu'ele fu
entre le mur et le fossé; et ele garda contreval, si vit le
fossé
molt parfont et molt roide, s'o molt grant paor. He! Dix, fait ele,
douce
creature! se je me lais caïr, je briserai le col, et se je remain
ci, on me prendera demain, si m'ardera on en un fu. Encor ainme je mix
que je muire [75.A] ci que tos li pules me regardast demain a
merveilles.
Ele segna son cief, si se laissa glacier aval le fossé, et quant
ele vint u fons, si bel pié et ses beles mains, qui n'avoient
mie
apris c'on les bleçast, furent quaissies et escorcies et li sans
en sali bien en dose lius, et ne por quant ele ne santi ne mal ne dolor
por le grant paor qu'ele avoit. Et se ele fu en paine de l'entrer,
encor
fu ele en forceur de l'iscir. Ele se pensa qu'ileuc ne faisoit mie bon
demorer, e trova un pel aguisié que cil dedens avoient
jeté
por le castel deffendre, si fist pas un avant l'autre, si monta tant a
grans painnes qu'ele vint deseure. Or estoit li forés pres a
deus
arbalestees, qui bien duroit trente liues de lonc et de lé, si i
avoit bestes sauvages et serpentine: ele ot paor que, s'ele i entroit,
qu'eles ne l'ocesiscent, si se repensa que, s'on le trovoit ileuc, c'on
le remenroit en le vile por ardoir.
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| XVII.
Now it is sung: Now bright-favoured Nicolete, ![]() Foot upon the moat-top set; And her lamentation made, Crying loud for Jesus' aid. `Father, King of Majesty! Now I know not where to fly! Should I in the greenwood fare, Soon the wolf will eat me there, And the lion and wild boar, - Creatures which are there galore. Should I wait the daylight clear, So my foes may find me here, Straightway will the fire be lit, And my body be burned in it. But-O God of Majesty!- Rather would I, verily, That the wolf my body tore, And the lion and wild boar, Than I to the town should fare!
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[XVII] Or se cante. N icolete o le vis cler ![]() Fu montee le fossé, S i se prent a dementer E t Jhesum a reclamer: P ere, rois de maïsté, O r ne sai quel part aler: [75.B] S e je vois u gaut ramé, J a me mengeront li lé, L i lion et li sengler, D ont il i a a plenté; E t se j'atent le jor cler, Q ue on me puist ci trover, L i fus sera alumés D ont mes cors iert enbrasés; M ais, par Diu de maïsté, E ncor aim jou mis assés Q ue me mengucent li lé, L i lion et li sengler, Q ue je voisse en la cité ![]() J e n'irai mie. |

| XVIII. Now
they speak and they relate and they tell.
Nicolette made great lamentation, as you have heard. She commended herself to God, and went on her way till she came into the forest. She durst not go deep into it, because of the wild beasts and the serpents; and she crept into a thick bush, and sleep fell upon her; and she slept till the morning at high prime, when the herd-boys came out of the town, and drove their beasts between the wood and the river; and they drew aside to a very beautiful spring which was at the edge of the forest, and spread out a cloak and put their bread on it. While they were eating, Nicolete awoke at the cry of the birds and of the herd-boys, and she hastened up to them. `Fair children!' said she, `may the Lord help you!' `May God bless you!' said the one who was more ready of speech than the rest. `Fair children', said she, `know you Aucassin, the son of Count Garin of Beaucaire?' `Yes, we know him well'. `So God help you, fair children,' said she, `tell him that there is a beast in this forest, and that he is to come and hunt it. And if he can catch it, he would not give one limb of it for a hundred marks of gold - no, not for five hundred, nor for any wealth'. And they gazed upon her, and saw her to be so beautiful that they were quite astonied at her. `I tell him?' said he who was more ready of speech than the others; `Sorrow be his who shall ever speak of it, or who shall ever tell him! 'Tis fantasy, what you say; since there is not in this forest so precious a beast, neither stag nor lion nor wild boar, one of whose limbs were worth more than two pence or three at the most; and you speak of so great wealth! Foul sorrow be his who believes you, or who shall ever tell him! You are a fay, and we have no care for your company, but keep on your way!' `Ah, fair children!' said she, `you will do this! This beast has such a medicine that Aucassin will be cured of his wound. And I have here five sous in my purse; take them, and tell him! And within three days must he hunt it; and if he find it not in three days, never more will he be cured of his wound!' `I' faith!' said he, `we will take the pence, and if he comes here we will tell him; but we will never go to seek him'. `I' God's name!' said she, Then she took leave of the herd-boys and went her way. |
[XVIII] Or
dient et content et fabloient.
N icolete se dementa molt, si con vos avés oï; ele se commanda a Diu, si erra tant qu'ele vint en le forest. Ele n'osa mie parfont entrer por les bestes sauvaces et por le serpentine, si se quatist en un espés buisson; et soumax li prist, si s'endormi dusqu'au demain a haute prime que li pastorel iscirent de la vile et jeterent lor bestes entre le bos et la riviere, si se traien d'une part a une molt bele fontaine qui estoit au cief de la forest, si estendirent une cape, se missent lor pain sus. Entreusque il mengoient, et nicolete s'esveille au cri des oisiax et des pastoriax, si s'enbati sor aus. Bel enfant, fait ele, Damedis vos i aït! Dix vos benie! fait li uns qui plus fu enparlés des autres. -Bel enfant, fait ele, conissiés vos aucassin, le fil le conte garin [75v.A] de biaucaire? -Oïl, biens le counisçons nos. -Se Dic vos aït, bel enfant, fait ele, dites li qu'il a une beste en ceste forest et qu'i le viegne cacier, et s'il l'i puet prendre, il n'en donroit mie un menbre por cent mars d'or, non por cinc cens, ne por nul avoir. Et cil le regardent, se le virent si bele qu'il en furent tot esmari. Je li dirai? fait cil qui plus fu enparlés des autres; dehait ait qui ja en parlera, e qui ja li dira! C'est fantosmes que vos dites, qu'il n'a si ciere beste en ceste forest, ne cerf, ne lion, ne sengler, dont uns des menbres vaille plus de des deniers u de trois au plus, et vos parlés de si grant avoir! Ma dehait qui vos en croit, ne qui ja li dira! Vos este fee, si n'avons cure de vo conpaignie, mais tenés vostre voie. -Ha! bel enfant, fait ele, si ferés. Le beste a tal mecine que aucassins ert garis de son mehaing; et j'ai ci cinc sous en me borse: tenés, se li dites; et dedans trois jors li covient cacier, et se il dens trois jors ne le trove, ja mais n'iert garis de son mehaig. -Par foi, fait il, les deniers prenderons nos, et s'il vient ci, nos li dirons, mais nos ne l'irons ja quere. -De par Diu! fait ele. Lor prent congié as pastoriaus, si s'en va. |

| XIX. Now
it is sung. Nicolete, bright-favoured maid, ![]() To the herds her farewell bade, And her journey straight addressed Right amid the green forest, Down a path of olden day; Till she reached an open way Where seven roads fork, that go out Through the region round about. Then the thought within her grew. She will try her lover true, If he love her as he said:- She took many a lily head, With the bushy kermes-oak shoot, And of leafy boughs to boot, And a bower so fair made she,- Daintier did I never see! By the truth of Heaven she sware, Should Aucassin come by there, And not rest a little space, For her love's sake, in that place, He should ne'er her lover be,
|
[XIX] Or
se cante. N icolete o le cler vis ![]() D es pastoriaus se parti, S i acoilli son cemin T res par mi le gaut foilli [75v.B] T out un viés sentier anti, T ant qu'a une voie vint U aforkent set cemin Q ui s'en vont par le païs. A porpenser or se prist Q u'esprovera son ami S 'i l'aime si com il dist. E le prist des flors de lis E t de l'erbe du garris E t de le foille autresi, U ne bele loge en fist, A inques tant gente ne vi. J ure Diu qui ne menti S e par la vient aucasins E t il por l'amor de li N e s'i repose un petit, J a ne sera ses amis, N' ele s'amie. |

| XX. Now
they speak and they relate and they tell.
Nicolette had made the bower, as you have listened and heard, - very pretty and very dainty; and had lined it well within and without with flowers and leaves; and had laid her down near the bower in a thick bush, to know what Aucassin would do. And the cry and the noise went abroad through all the land and through all the country that Nicolete was lost. Some say that she is fled away; and others say that Count Garin has had her slain. Whoever may have rejoiced at it, Aucassin was not glad. And Count Garin had him taken out of prison; and summoned the knights of the land, and the high-born damozels, and had a very grand feast made, because he thought to comfort Aucassin his son. While the feast was at its height, Aucassin was leaning against a balcony, all sorrowful and downcast. Whoever may have made merry, Aucassin had no fancy for it; since he saw there nothing of that which he loved. A certain knight beheld him, and came to him, and addressed him: `Aucassin', said he, `of such sickness as yours have I too been sick. I will give you good counsel, if you will trust me'. `Sir', said Aucassin, `Gramercy! good counsel should I hold dear'. `Mount on a horse,' said he, `and go along yon forest side to divert you; and you will see yon flowers and yon herbs, and will hear yon birds sing. Peradventure you shall hear such a word as shall make you better'. `Sir', said Aucassin, `Gramercy! so will I do". He stole away from the hall, and went down the steps, and came to the stable where his horse was. He had the saddle put on, and the bridle; he set foot in the stirrup, and mounted, and went forth out of the castle, and went on till he came to the forest; and he rode on till he came to the spring, and found the herd-boys at the point of None; and they had spread a cloak on the grass, and were eating their bread, and making very great merriment. |
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