“Little star, I see thee there,
That the moon draws close to her!
Nicolette is with thee there,
My love of the golden hair.
God, I trow, wants her in Heaven
To become the lamp of even.
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. . . . .
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Whatsoe’er the fall might be,
Would I were aloft with thee!
Straitly I would kiss thee there.
Though a monarch’s son I were,
Yet would you befit me fair,
Sister, sweet friend!”
Here they speak and tell the story.
When Nicolette heard Aucassin she came to him, for she was not far off. She came into
the bower, and threw her arms round his neck, and kissed and caressed him.
“Fair sweet friend, well be you met!”
“And you, fair sweet friend, be you the well met!”
They kissed and caressed each other, and their joy was beautiful.