| [Now they sing it.] |
| Now, I tell you that this lookout Was as courteous as brave, And so this song the man began, Poor Nicolette to save,— "Oh, my pretty girl!" said he, "Whose heart can beat so true and free, Whose eyes are bright, whose form is light, And whose face is so sweet to see, I know you're watching there For your lover underground; He weeps for you in his despair, Bolted, barred, and bound. Now, maiden, list to me: Of the night-watch beware, For they are passing by, A hidden sword on every thigh; Hide yourself as they pass by; Maiden, beware." |
[Now they speak it, and talk it, and tell it.] |
"Ah!" replied Nicolette to the lookout, "may God grant eternal repose to the souls of your father and of your mother for this kindly warning you have given to me! I will take care of the rascals, whoever they may be; and in this the good God will help me."
So saying, she wrapped herself in her mantle as closely as she could, and hid herself silently in the shadow of the pillar. So she waited till the watchmen had passed by; and, when she thought them far enough gone, she took leave of Aucassin, and went her way.
So she came to the castle walls. Now these were broken in many of the joints; and the active girl was able to let herself down, with the help of her hands, as a little four-footed kid would have done. But, when she was half-way down, she looked into the ditch, and she was frightened to see how sheer and steep it was.
"Oh, my dear Maker God!" she whispered, "if I let myself fall, I shall break my neck; if I stay where I am, they will seize me, and burn me: well, one death with another, I had rather run the risk of being killed than serve as a sight for all the people to-morrow."
So she made the sign of the cross, and let herself slide down the face of the wall to the very bottom of the ditch. Then she looked at her pretty feet and her pretty hands, which had never known what it was to be wounded before. They were all scratched and torn; and the blood flowed from them in a dozen places. But Nicolette felt no pain, because she was still so much afraid; for she had only succeeded in getting into the ditch, and now she must get out again.
The bold girl tried here, and she tried there; for she knew that it was a bad place to stay in; and at last she found one of the pointed stakes, which the defenders of the castle had thrown down on the besiegers when they were attacked. This she took, and with its aid she clambered up the reverse of the ditch, step after step. And soon she was at the top, though not without great pains.
The woods were two arbalist shots away from her,—woods which stretched thirty leagues this way, and thirty leagues that way, all haunted by wild beasts and venomous serpents. Poor Nicolette was frightened to death when she thought of them, because she did not want to be eaten alive; but still she pressed on, because she had no more wish to be burned alive.
| [Now they sing it.] |
| Nicolette, of lovely face, Clambered from the ditch so deep, And then began to wail and weep, And to Jesus Christ to cry:— "Father, king of majesty, I do not know Where I shall go; For if, in flight, I should Lose me in the wood, The boars and lions grim Would tear me limb from limb; But if men find me anywhere, And to the town I am returned, They'll light a fire in the square, And to the stake will tie me there, And my body will be burned. "No, my God, no! Hear me as I cry; It shall not be so; Better far that I By the wolves be hunted down, Than go captive to the town So to die! "I will not go." |
[Now they tell it, and speak it, and talk it.] |
Nicolette grieved, as you have heard, and then commended herself to God, and plunged into the woods, but did not dare go too far in, for fear of beasts and snakes.