"Yea, I know well that ye be Aucassin, the son of the Count, and if ye tell me for why ye weep, then will I tell you what I make here.""Certes," quoth Aucassin, "I will tell you right gladly. Hither came I this morning to hunt in this forest; and with me a white hound, the fairest in the world; him have I lost, and for him I weep."
"By the Heart our Lord bare in his breast," quoth he, "are ye weeping for a stinking hound? Foul fall him that holds thee high henceforth! for there is no such rich man in the land, but if thy father asked it of him, he would give thee ten, or fifteen, or twenty, and be the gladder for it. But I have cause to weep and make dole.""Wherefore so, brother?"
"Sir, I will tell thee. I was hireling to a rich vilain, and drove his plough; four oxen had he. But three days since came on me great misadventure, whereby I lost the best of mine oxen, Roger, the best of my team. Him go I seeking, and have neither eaten nor drunken these three days, nor may I go to the town, lest they cast me into prison, seeing that I have not wherewithal to pay. Out of all the wealth of the world have I no more than ye see on my body. A poor mother bare me, that had no more but one wretched bed; this have they taken from under her, and she lies in the very straw. This ails me more than mine own case, for wealth comes and goes; if now I have lost, another tide will I gain, and will pay for mine ox when as I may; never for that will I weep. But you weep for a stinking hound. Foul fall whoso thinks well of thee!""Certes thou art a good comforter, brother, blessed be thou! And of what price was thine ox?""Sir, they ask me twenty sols for him, whereof I cannot abate one do it.""Nay, then," quoth Aucassin, "take these twenty sols I have in my purse, and pay for thine ox.""Sir," saith he, "gramercy. And God give thee to find that thou seekest."So they parted each from other, and Aucassin rode on: the night was fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of boughs, that Nicolete had builded and woven within and without, over and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be seen. When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopped suddenly, and the light of the moon fell therein.
"God!" quoth Aucassin, "here was Nicolete, my sweet lady, and this lodge builded she with her fair hands. For the sweetness of it, and for love of her, will I alight, and rest here this night long."He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was great and tall. He dreamed so much on Nicolete his right sweet lady, that he slipped on a stone, and drave his shoulder out of his place. Then knew he that he was hurt sore, natheless he bore him with what force he might, and fastened with the other hand the mare's son to a thorn. Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the lodge of boughs. And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he to say:
Here one singeth:
"Star, that I from far behold, Star, the Moon calls to her fold, Nicolete with thee doth dwell, My sweet love with locks of gold, God would have her dwell afar, Dwell with him for evening star, Would to God, whate'er befell, Would that with her I might dwell.
I would clip her close and strait, Nay, were I of much estate, Some king's son desirable, Worthy she to be my mate, Me to kiss and clip me well, Sister, sweet friend!"So speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
When Nicolete heard Aucassin, right so came she unto him, for she was not far away. She passed within the lodge, and threw her arms about his neck, and clipped and kissed him.
"Fair sweet friend, welcome be thou."
"And thou, fair sweet love, be thou welcome."So either kissed and clipped the other, and fair joy was them between.
"Ha! sweet love," quoth Aucassin, "but now was I sore hurt, and my shoulder wried, but I take no force of it, nor have no hurt therefrom since I have thee."Right so felt she his shoulder and found it was wried from its place. And she so handled it with her white hands, and so wrought in her surgery, that by God's will who loveth lovers, it went back into its place. Then took she flowers, and fresh grass, and leaves green, and bound these herbs on the hurt with a strip of her smock, and he was all healed.
"Aucassin," saith she, "fair sweet love, take counsel what thou wilt do. If thy father let search this forest to-morrow, and men find me here, they will slay me, come to thee what will.""Certes, fair sweet love, therefore should I sorrow heavily, but, an if I may, never shall they take thee."Anon gat he on his horse, and his lady before him, kissing and clipping her, and so rode they at adventure.
Here one singeth:
Aucassin the frank, the fair, Aucassin of the yellow hair, Gentle knight, and true lover, From the forest doth he fare, Holds his love before him there, Kissing cheek, and chin, and eyes, But she spake in sober wise, "Aucassin, true love and fair, To what land do we repair?"Sweet my love, I take no care, Thou art with me everywhere!
So they pass the woods and downs, Pass the villages and towns, Hills and dales and open land, Came at dawn to the sea sand, Lighted down upon the strand, Beside the sea.
Then say they, speak they, tell they the Tale:
