Of Aucassin nought know we,
But fair Nicolete the free
Now in Carthage doth she dwell,
There her father loves her well,
Who is king of that countrie.
Her a husband hath he found,
Paynim lord that serves Mahound!
Ne'er with him the maid will go,
For she loves a damoiseau,
Aucassin, that ye may know,
Swears to God that never mo
With a lover will she go
Save with him she loveth so
In long desire."
So speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
When Aucassin heard Nicolete speak in this wise, he was right joyful, and
drew her on one side, and spoke, saying:
"Sweet fair friend, know ye nothing of this Nicolete, of whom ye have
thus sung?"
"Yea, Sir, I know her for the noblest creature, and the most gentle, and
the best that ever was born on ground. She is daughter to the King of
Carthage that took her there where Aucassin was taken, and brought her
into the city of Carthage, till he knew that verily she was his own
daughter, whereon he made right great mirth. Anon wished he to give her
for her lord one of the greatest kings of all Spain, but she would rather
let herself be hanged or burned, than take any lord, how great soever."
"Ha! fair sweet friend," quoth the Count Aucassin, "if thou wilt go into
that land again, and bid her come and speak to me, I will give thee of my
substance, more than thou wouldst dare to ask or take.
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