r tell him! 'Tis fantasy
that you say, since there is not so costly a beast in this forest,
neither stag nor lion nor wild boar, one of whose limbs were worth more
than two pence, or three at the most; and you speak of so great wealth!
Foul sorrow be his who believe you, or whoever tell him! You are a fay,
and we have no care for your company. So keep on your way!"

"Ah, fair children!" said she, "this will you do! The beast has such a
medicine that Aucassin will be cured of his hurt. And I have here five
sous in my purse; take them, so you tell him! Aye, and within three days
must he hunt it, and, if in three days he find it not, never more will he
be cured of his hurt!"

"I' faith!" said he, "the pence will we take; and if he come here we will
tell him, but we will never go to seek him."

"I' God's name!" said she.

Then she took leave of the herdboys, and went her way.

_Here they sing_.

Nicolette, that bright-faced may,
From the herdboys went her way,
And her journeying addressed
Through the leafy thick forest,
Down a path of olden day,
Till she came to a highway,
Where do seven roads divide
Through the land to wander wide.
Then she fell bethinking her
She will try her true lover
If he love her as he sware.
Flow'rs o' the lily gathered she,
Branches of the jarris-tree,
And green leaves abundantly.
And she built a bower of green;
Daintier was there never seen.
By the truth of Heaven she sware,
That should Aucassin come there,
And a little rest not take
In the bower for her sweet sake,
Ne'er shall he her lover be,
Nor his love she!

_Here they speak and tell the story_.

Nicolette had made the bower, as you have harkened and heard; very pretty
she made it and very dainty, and all bedecked within and without with
flowers and leaves. Then she laid her down near to the bower in a thick
bush, to see what Aucassin would do.

And the cry and the noise went through all the land and through all the
country that Nicolette was lost. There are some say that she is fled
away; other some that the Count Warren has had her done to death. Rejoice
who might, Aucassin was not well pleased. Count Warren his father bade
take him out of prison; and summoned the knights of the land, and the
damozels, and made a very rich feast, thinking to comfort Aucassin his
son. But while the feasting was at its height, there was Aucassin leaned
against a balcony, all sorrowful and all downcast. Make merry who might