.
To Aucassin the hideous plough-man is "Biax frere," "fair brother," just
as the treacherous Aegisthus is [Greek text] in Homer; these are
complimentary terms, with no moral sense in particular. The _jogleor_ is
not more curious than Homer, or than the poets of the old ballads, about
giving novel descriptions of his characters. As Homer's ladies are "fair-
tressed," so Nicolete and Aucassin have, each of them, close yellow
curls, eyes of vair (whatever that may mean), and red lips. War cannot
be mentioned except as war "where knights do smite and are smitten," and
so forth. The author is absolutely conventional in such matters,
according to the convention of his age and profession.

Nor is his matter more original. He tells a story of thwarted and
finally fortunate love, and his hero is "a Christened knight"--like
Tamlane,--his heroine a Paynim lady. To be sure, Nicolete was baptized
before the tale begins, and it is she who is a captive among Christians,
not her lover, as usual, who is a captive among Saracens. The author has
reversed the common arrangement, and he appears to have cared little more
than his reckless hero, about creeds and differences of faith. He is not
much interested in the recognition of Nicolete by her great Paynim
kindred, nor indeed in any of the "business" of the narrative, the
fighting, the storms and tempests, and the burlesque of the kingdom of
Torelore.

What the nameless author does care for, is his telling of the love-story,
the passion of Aucassin and Nicolete. His originality lies in his
charming medley of sentiment and humour, of a smiling compassion and
sympathy with a touch of mocking mirth. The love of Aucassin and
Nicolete--

"Des grans paines qu'il soufri,"

that is the one thing serious to him in the whole matter, and that is not
so very serious. {2} The story-teller is no Mimnermus, Love and Youth are
the best things he knew,--"deport du viel caitif,"--and now he has "come
to forty years," and now they are with him no longer. But he does not
lament like Mimnermus, like Alcman, like Llwyarch Hen. "What is Life,
what is delight without golden Aphrodite? May I die!" says Mimnermus,
"when I am no more conversant with these, with secret love, and gracious
gifts, and the bed of desire." And Alcman, when his limbs waver beneath
him, is only saddened by the faces and voices of girls, and would change
his lot for the sea-birds. {3}

"Maidens with voices like hon