"Indeed I do," cried the Count de Bougars.
"Well, if you will not take the oath I demand, your head shall fly off."
"Enough! I take the oath you exact," said the count quickly.
Then Aucassin ordered a horse for him, mounted another, and led him to a place of safety.
| [Now they sing it.] |
| Now when the Count Garin Finds out that Aucassin His darling sweet Will not forget, His darling of the charming face, He claps him in a dungeon, In a cellar underground, All walled in with heavy stones, Built double thick around; And my wretched Aucassin So sad as now had never been. "Oh, my darling Nicolette!" In his misery said he, "My darling dear of charming face, My darling fleur de lis, My darling sweeter than the grape, My darling, list to me, Imprisoned in this horrid place. "The other day a pilgrim gray From Limousin had made his way, And on the straw the poor man lay, So sick was he, and near to die. But Nicolette passed by his door. The pilgrim heard my darling's feet Pit-pat across the floor; He saw my darling's little cloak Her cape so white, her ermine bright; And though no word she spoke, Yet, when he saw my darling sweet, The poor old pilgrim raised his head, And, cured by her, he left his bed, And took his staff, and took his way, And found his home once more. "Oh, darling dear! oh, fleur de lis! So sweet to come, so sweet to stay, So sweet to sing, so sweet to play, So sweet for that, so sweet for this, So sweet to speak, so sweet to kiss, Who is there who my love can see, And hate a girl so sweet as she? For you, dear child, your love is bound In this dungeon underground: Here they will see me die alone For you, my fleur de lis!" |
[Now they speak it, and talk it, and tell it.] |
Aucassin was thrown into prison, as you have just heard. And Nicolette, on her part, was still in the vaulted room, imprisoned also.
It was in the summer-time in the month of May, when the days are so warm, and so long, and so full of light, and the nights so sweet and so serene. Nicolette lay in her bed, and saw the moon shine clear through the window, and heard the nightingale sing among the trees of the garden. She remembered Aucassin, the friend she loved so well, and she began to sigh tenderly. Then she thought upon the deadly hatred of the Count Garin de Beaucaire, and she knew that she was lost if she remained in this room, and that her dear Aucassin would be lost also if he remained in his dungeon.
Then she looked at the old woman who was set to guard her, and she saw that she was asleep. Nicolette rose quickly, threw a fine silk mantle which she had saved over her shoulders, took the sheets and coverlet of her bed, made of them as long a rope as she could, and tied it to the window-post. When she had done this, she seized it with both hands, one above, and one below, and slid down upon the turf, which was covered with dew.
Thus she descended into the garden.
Nicolette's hair was blonde, fine, and curly; her eyes were soft and laughing; her complexion was fair and fresh; her nose high and well placed; her lips were redder than cherries and roses in summer-time, and her teeth white and small. You could span her little waist with your two hands; and the daisies which she broke when she stepped upon them, as they fell back upon her ankles, seemed black against her feet, so fair was this girl.