“What, father, hast thou forgotten it? By mine own head, whosoever forgets, will I not forget it, so much it hath me at heart. Didst thou not covenant with me when I took up arms, and went into the stour, that if God brought me back safe and sound, thou wouldst let me see Nicolete, my sweet lady, even so long that I may have of her two words or three, and one kiss? So didst thou covenant, and my mind is that thou keep thy word.”
“I!” quoth the father, “God forsake me when I keep this covenant! Nay, if she were here, I would let burn her in the fire, and thyself shouldst be sore adread.”
“Is this thy last word?” quoth Aucassin.
“So help me God,” quoth his father, “yea!”
“Certes,” quoth Aucassin, “this is a sorry thing meseems, when a man of thine age lies!”
“Count of Valence,” quoth Aucassin, “I took thee?”
“In sooth, Sir, didst thou,” saith the Count.
“Give me thy hand,” saith Aucassin.
“Sir, with good will.”
So he set his hand in the other’s.