arpers, and makers,
and the prince of this world. With these I would gladly go, let me but
have with me, Nicolete, my sweetest lady."

"Certes," quoth the Captain, "in vain wilt thou speak thereof, for never
shalt thou see her; and if thou hadst word with her, and thy father knew
it, he would let burn in a fire both her and me, and thyself might well
be sore adread."

"That is even what irketh me," quoth Aucassin. So he went from the
Captain sorrowing.

_Here singeth one_:

Aucassin did so depart
Much in dole and heavy at heart
For his love so bright and dear,
None might bring him any cheer,
None might give good words to hear,
To the palace doth he fare
Climbeth up the palace-stair,
Passeth to a chamber there,
Thus great sorrow doth he bear,
For his lady and love so fair.

"Nicolete how fair art thou,
Sweet thy foot-fall, sweet thine eyes,
Sweet the mirth of thy replies,
Sweet thy laughter, sweet thy face,
Sweet thy lips and sweet thy brow,
And the touch of thine embrace,
All for thee I sorrow now,
Captive in an evil place,
Whence I ne'er may go my ways
Sister, sweet friend!"

So say they, speak they, tell they the Tale:

While Aucassin was in the chamber sorrowing for Nicolete his love, even
then the Count Bougars de Valence, that had his war to wage, forgat it no
whit, but had called up his horsemen and his footmen, so made he for the
castle to storm it. And the cry of battle arose, and the din, and
knights and men at arms busked them, and ran to walls and gates to hold
the keep. And the towns-folk mounted to the battlements, and cast down
bolts and pikes. Then while the assault was great, and even at its
height, the Count Garin de Biaucaire came into the chamber where Aucassin
was making lament, sorrowing for Nicolete, his sweet lady that he loved
so well.

"Ha! son," quoth he, "how caitiff art thou, and cowardly, that canst see
men assail thy goodliest castle and strongest. Know thou that if thou
lose it, thou losest all. Son, go to, take arms, and mount thy horse,
and defend thy land, and help thy men, and fare into the stour. Thou
needst not smite nor be smitten. If they do but see thee among them,
better will they guard their substance, and their lives, and thy land and
mine. And thou art so great, and hardy of thy hands, that well mightst
thou do this thing, and to do it is thy devoir."

"Father," said Aucassin, "what is t