" said the Count Garin: "thence might great
evil come on thee."

So parted they each from the other. Now the viscount was a right rich
man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an upper
chamber thereof he had Nicolette placed, with one old woman to keep
her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine and such,
things as were needful. Then he had the door sealed, that none might
come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over against the
garden, and quite strait, through which came to them a little air....

Aucassin was cast into prison as ye have heard tell, and Nicolette, of
her part, was in the chamber. Now it was summer-time, the month of
May, when days are warm, and long, and clear, and the nights still and
serene. Nicolette lay one night on her bed, and saw the moon shine
clear through a window, and heard the nightingale sing in the garden,
and she minded her of Aucassin her friend, whom she loved so well.
Then fell she to thoughts of Count Garin of Beaucaire, that he hated
her to death; and therefore deemed she that there she would no longer
abide, for that, if she were told of, and the count knew where she
lay, an ill death he would make her die. She saw that the old woman
was sleeping, who held her company. Then she arose, and clad her in a
mantle of silk she had by her, very goodly, and took sheets of the bed
and towels and knotted one to the other, and made therewith a cord as
long as she might, and knotted it to a pillar in the window, and let
herself slip down into the garden; then caught up her raiment in both
hands, behind and before, and kilted up her kirtle, because of the dew
that she saw lying deep on the grass, and so went on her way down
through the garden.

Her locks were yellow and curled, her eyes blue-gray and smiling, her
face featly fashioned, the nose high and fairly set, the lips more red
than cherry or rose in time of summer, her teeth white and small; and
her breasts so firm that they bore up the folds of her bodice as they
had been two walnuts; so slim was she in the waist that your two hands
might have clipt her; and the daisy flowers that brake beneath her as
she went tiptoe, and that bent above her instep, seemed black against
her feet and ankles, so white was the maiden. She came to the
postern-gate, and unbarred it, and went out through the streets of
Beaucaire, keeping always on the shadowy side, for the moon was
shining right clear, and s