r boar, that one of his limbs is
worth more than two deniers, or three at the most, and ye speak of such
great ransom. Foul fall him that believes your word, and him that
telleth Aucassin. Ye be a Fairy, and we have none liking for your
company, nay, hold on your road."

"Nay, fair boys," quoth she, "nay, ye will do my bidding. For this beast
is so mighty of medicine that thereby will Aucassin be healed of his
torment. And lo! I have five sols in my purse, take them, and tell him:
for within three days must he come hunting it hither, and if within three
days he find it not, never will he be healed of his torment."

"My faith," quoth he, "the money will we take, and if he come hither we
will tell him, but seek him we will not."

"In God's name," quoth she; and so took farewell of the shepherds, and
went her way.

_Here singeth one_:

Nicolete the bright of brow
From the shepherds doth she pass
All below the blossomed bough
Where an ancient way there was,
Overgrown and choked with grass,
Till she found the cross-roads where
Seven paths do all way fare,
Then she deemeth she will try,
Should her lover pass thereby,
If he love her loyally.
So she gathered white lilies,
Oak-leaf, that in green wood is,
Leaves of many a branch I wis,
Therewith built a lodge of green,
Goodlier was never seen,
Swore by God who may not lie,
"If my love the lodge should spy,
He will rest awhile thereby
If he love me loyally."
Thus his faith she deemed to try,
"Or I love him not, not I,
Nor he loves me!"

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

Nicolete built her lodge of boughs, as ye have heard, right fair and
feteously, and wove it well, within and without, of flowers and leaves.
So lay she hard by the lodge in a deep coppice to know what Aucassin will
do. And the cry and the bruit went abroad through all the country and
all the land, that Nicolete was lost. Some told that she had fled, and
some that the Count Garin had let slay her. Whosoever had joy thereof,
no joy had Aucassin. And the Count Garin, his father, had taken him out
of prison, and had sent for the knights of that land, and the ladies, and
let make a right great feast, for the comforting of Aucassin his son. Now
at the high time of the feast, was Aucassin leaning from a gallery, all
woful and discomforted. Whatsoever men might devise of mirth, Aucassin
had no joy thereof, nor