Chapter 3

Aucassin had alighted, he and his love together, as you have harkened and heard. He held his horse by the bridle and his love by the hand, and they began to go along the shore; and they went on till Aucassin descried some merchants who were in a ship sailing near the shore. He beckoned to them and they came to him; and he dealt with them so that they took him into their ship. And when they were on the high sea a storm arose, great and wonderful, which carried them from land to land, till they arrived at a foreign land, and entered the port of the castle of Torelore. Then they asked what land it was; and they told them that it was the land of the king of Torelore. Then he asked, Who was he, and was there war? And they told him:

"Yes, great war."

He took leave of the merchants, and they commended him to God. He mounted his horse, with his sword girt, and his love before him, and went on till he came to the castle. He asked where the king was, and they told him that he lay in child-bed.

"And where then is his wife?"

And they told him that she was with the army, and had taken thither all the folk of the land. And when Aucassin heard it, he thought it a very strange thing; and he came to the palace, and alighted, he and his love together. And she held his horse, and he went up to the palace, with his sword girt; and went on till he came to the room where the king lay a- bed.

_Here they sing_.

Aucassin the room ent'red, He the courteous, the high-bred, And went straight up to the bed, On the which the king was laid. Right in front of him he stayed, And so spake, hear what he said: "Go to, fool! What dost thou there?" Quoth the king: "A son I bear. Soon as is my month fulfilled, And I am quite whole and healed, Then shall I the mass go hear, As my ancestor did ere, And my great war to maintain 'Gainst mine enemies again. I will not leave it!" {62}

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

When Aucassin heard the king speak thus, he took all the clothes which were on him, and flung them down the room. He saw behind him a stick. He took it, and turned and struck him, and beat him so that he was like to have killed him.

"Ah, fair sir!" said the king, "what is it you ask of me? Have you your wits distraught, you who beat me in my own house?"

"By the heart of God," said Aucassin, "you whoreson knave, I will kill you unless you give me your word that never more shall any man in your land lie in child-bed!"

He gave him his word; and when he had given it,

"Sir," said Aucassin, "now take me where your wife is with the army!"

"Sir, right willingly!" said the king.

He mounted a horse, and Aucassin mounted his; and Nicolette remained in the queen's chambers. And the king and Aucassin rode till they came where the queen was; and they found it a battle of crab-apples roasted, and eggs, and fresh cheeses. And Aucassin began to gaze at them, and he wondered very hard.

_Here they sing_.

Aucassin has stayed him so, Elbow-propped on saddle-bow, And began a-gazing at This tremendous pitched combat. They had brought with them thereto Store of cheeses enow new, Wild crab-apples roasted through, And of great field-mushrooms too. He who best disturbs the fords Is proclaimed the chief of lords. Aucassin, the gallant knight, 'Gan a-gazing at the sight, And fell a-laughing.

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

When Aucassin saw this strange thing, he came to the king and accosted him:

"Sir," said Aucassin, "are these your enemies?"

"Yes, sir," said the king.

"And would you that I should avenge you of them?"

"Yes," said he, "willingly."

And Aucassin put his hand to his sword, and dashed in among them, and began to strike to right and to left, and killed many of them. And when the king saw that he was killing them he took him by the bridle, and said,

"Ah, fair sir! Do not kill them so!"

"How?" said Aucassin. "Do you not wish that I should avenge you?"

"Sir," said the king, "you have done it overmuch. It is not our custom to kill one another."

The other side turned to flight; and the king and Aucassin returned to the Castle of Torelore. And the people of the country bade the king drive Aucassin out of his land, and keep Nicolette for his son, since she seemed in sooth a lady of high degree. And when Nicolette heard it she was not well-pleased; and she began to say,

_Here they sing_.

"King of Torelore!" she said, Nicolette the lovely maid, "Fool I seem in your folk's sight! When my sweet friend clips me tight, Smooth and soft for his delight, Then am I at such a school, Ball nor dance nor gay carole, Harp nor viol nor cithole, Nor the pleasures of _nimpole_, {66} Were ought beside it!"

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

Aucassin was at the Castle of Torelore, and Nicolette his love, in great content and in great delight, for he had with him Nicolette, his sweet friend whom he loved so well. While he was in such content and in such delight, a fleet of Saracens came by sea and attacked the castle and took it by storm. They took the stuff, and led away men-captives and women- captives. They took Nicolette and Aucassin, and bound Aucassin hand and foot and threw him into one ship, and Nicolette into another. And there arose a storm at sea which parted them. The ship in which Aucassin was went drifting over the sea till it arrived at the Castle of Beaucaire. And when the people of the country ran to the wrecking of it, they found Aucassin, and recognised him. When the men of Beaucaire saw their young lord, they made great joy of him; for Aucassin had stayed at the Castle of Torelore full three years, and his father and mother were dead. They brought him to the Castle of Beaucaire, and all became his liegemen. And he held his land in peace.

_Here they sing_.

Aucassin did thus repair To his city of Beaucaire; All the kingdom and countrie Held in great tranquillity. Swore he by God's majesty, Sorer far is his regret For bright-favoured Nicolette Than his kinsfolk every one, Though they all were dead and gone. "Sweet my sweetheart, bright of cheer, You to seek I know not where! Never God made that countrie, Overland or oversea, If I thought to light on thee, I'd not fly thither!"

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

Now we will leave Aucassin, and tell of Nicolette. The ship in which Nicolette was, was the king of Carthage's, and he was her father, and she had twelve brothers, all princes or kings. When they saw Nicolette so beautiful, they did her very great honour, and made rejoicing over her; and much they questioned of her who she was; for in sooth she seemed a very noble lady and of high degree. But she could not tell them who she was; for she had been carried captive as a little child.

They sailed till they came beneath the city of Carthage. And when Nicolette saw the walls of the castle, and the country, she recognised that it was there she had been brought up and carried captive as a little child; yet she was not such a little child but that she knew well that she had been daughter to the king of Carthage, and that she had been brought up in the city.

_Here they sing_.

Nicolette, the wise, the brave, Won to land from off the wave; Sees the wharves, the city walls, And the palaces and halls; Then she cries, "Ah! woe is me! Ah, woe worth my high degree! King's daughter of Carthagen, To the Amiral akin! Here me holds a salvage horde! Aucassin, my gentle lord, Wise and worshipful and free, Your sweet love constraineth me, Calleth me and troubleth me! Grant me God the Heavenly Yet to hold you in embrace, And that you should kiss my face And my mouth and all my cheer, My liege lord dear!"

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

When the king of Carthage heard Nicolette speak thus, he threw his arms round her neck.

"Fair sweet friend," said he, "tell me who you are! Be not afraid of me!"

"Sir," said she, "I am daughter to the king of Carthage, and was carried captive as a little child, full fifteen years ago."

When they heard her speak thus, they knew well that she said truly; and they made very great rejoicing over her, and brought her to the palace with great honour, as a king's daughter. A lord they wished to give her, a king of Paynim; but she had no care to wed. And when she had been there full three days or four, she considered with herself by what device she might go to seek Aucassin. She procured a viol and learned to play on it; till one day they wished to marry her to a king, a rich Paynim. Then she stole away in the night, and came to the seaport, and harboured her at the house of a poor woman on the seashore.

And she took a herb, and smeared her head and face with it, so that she was all black and stained. And she got a coat made, and cloak and shirt and breeches, and attired herself in minstrel guise; and she took her viol, and went to a mariner, and so dealt with him that he took her in his ship. They set their sail, and sailed over the high sea till they arrived at the land of Provence. And Nicolette went forth, and took her viol, and went playing through the country, till she came to the Castle of Beaucaire, where Aucassin was.

_Here they sing_.

At Beaucaire beneath the tower Aucassin was one fair hour. Here he sat him on a stair; Round him his proud barons were; Saw the flower and green herb spring, Heard the song-bird sweetly sing; Of his love he thought anew, Nicolette the maiden true, Whom he loved so long a day; Then to tears and sighs gave way. Look you, Nicolette below Draws her viol, draws her bow; Now she speaks, her tale tells so: "List to me, proud lords arow, Those aloft and those alow! Would it please you hear a word Of Aucassin, a proud lord, And of Nicolette the bold? Long their love did last and hold Till he sought her in the wold. Then, from Torelore's stronghold, They were haled by heathen horde. Of Aucassin we've no word. Nicolette the maiden bold Is at Carthage the stronghold, Whom her father dear doth hold Who of yonder land is lord. Husband they would her award, Felon king of heathenesse. Nicolette cares not for this, For she loves a lording lad, Aucassin to name he had. By God and His name she vows Never lord will she espouse, If she have not her true love She's so fain of."

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

When Aucassin heard Nicolette speak thus, he was very glad, and he took her on one side, and asked her,

"Fair sweet comrade," said Aucassin, "know you ought of this Nicolette, of whom you have sung?"

"Sir, yes! I know of her as the noblest creature and the gentlest and wisest that ever was born. And she is daughter to the king of Carthage, who took her when Aucassin was taken, and carried her to the city of Carthage, when he knew surely that she was his daughter, and made very great rejoicing over her. And every day they wish to give her for lord one of the highest kings in all Spain. But she would rather let herself be hanged or drowned than she would take any of them, were he ever so rich."

"Ah, fair sweet comrade," said the Count Aucassin, "if you would go back to that land, and would tell her to come and speak to me, I would give you of my wealth as much as you should dare ask or take. Know, moreover, that for the love of her I will take no wife, were she of ever so high degree, but I wait for her; nor will I ever have any wife save her. And had I known where to find her I should not now have to seek her."

"Sir," said she, "if you would do this, I would go to seek her, for your sake, and for hers, whom I love much."

He sware to her; and then he bade give her twenty pounds. And as she took leave of him, he fell weeping for the sweetness of Nicolette. And when she saw him weeping,

"Sir," said she, "be not afraid! Since within a little while I will bring her to you in this town, so that you shall see her."

And when Aucassin heard it he was very glad. And she took leave of him, and went into the town to the house of the Viscountess; for the Viscount her godfather was dead. She harboured her there; and spoke with her till she confessed her affair to her, and the Viscountess recognised her, and knew surely that it was Nicolette, and that she had brought her up. And she made her be washed and bathed, and sojourn there a full eight days. And she took a plant which was called Celandine and anointed herself with it, and she was as beautiful as she had ever been at any time. And she clad herself in rich silk stuffs, of which the lady had good store, and she sat her down in the room on a quilted coverlet of cloth-of-silk, and called the lady, and told her to go for Aucassin her friend. And she did so. And when she came to the palace she found Aucassin weeping and lamenting for Nicolette his love, because she tarried so long. And the lady accosted him and said:

"Aucassin, now make no more lament, but come away with me, and I will show you the thing in the world you love best, for it is Nicolette, your sweet friend, who from far land is come to seek you." And Aucassin was glad.

_Here they sing_.

Now when Aucassin did hear Of his bright-of-favour fere, That she had arrived the shore, Glad was he, he ne'er was more. With the dame he went his way, Till the house made stop nor stay. To the chamber went they in Where sat Nicolette within. When she saw her lover there, Glad she was, so was she ne'er. Towards him to her feet leapt she. Aucassin, when he did see, Both his arms to her he holds, Gently to his bosom folds, Kisses her on eyes and face. So they left him the night's space, Till the morrow's morning-tide Aucassin took her to bride, Made her Lady of Beaucaire. Many days they then did fare, And their pleasure did enjoy. Now has Aucassin his joy, Nicolette too the same way. Here endeth our song-and-say; I know no further.

PRINTED BY TURNBULL AND SPEARS, EDINBURGH

Footnotes:

{39} The device of the warder is to give his warning in the guise of an _Aubade_, as if he were merely singing for his own amusement. The _Aubade_, or Watch-song, was a favourite lyrical form in Southern France. It was originally a dialogue between the lover, the lady, and the watchman who played sentinel, and warned them that the Dawn was coming.

{48} This piece of verse is remarkable for the evident intention of playfulness in it. All the lines end in a diminutive termination, and all the proper names also; Esmeret, Martinet, Fruelin, Johanet, Aubriet, Aucassinet. It seemed impossible to preserve this playfulness in any direct way, without sacrifice of literal rendering and without changing the proper names. I have tried to give a little of it by the use of dissyllabic rhymes.

{57} Three lines are torn away in the original MS.

{62} The custom of a husband taking to his bed when his wife has borne a child is a curious superstition well-known to ethnologists and folk-lore students. The convenient name of _Couvade_, though originally applied to this custom by a mistake, has now become recognised, and it seems best to retain it.

{66} It is unknown what the game of _Nimpole_ or _Nypollete_ was. But elsewhere it is coupled with games played on a board, _jeux de tables_, as if of the same nature as draughts or chess.