"
"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.
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