Aucassin and Nicolette | Page 4

the Viscount, "now let be! Nicolette is a slave-girl
whom I fetched from a foreign land and bought for money of the
heathen. I held her at the font, and christened her and stood godfather to
her, and have brought her up. One of these days I would have given her
a young fellow to win bread for her in wedlock. What is this to you?
Take you some king's daughter or some count's. Moreover, what were
you profited, think you, had you made her your concubine, or taken her
to live with you? Mighty little had you got by that, seeing that your
soul would be in Hell for ever and ever, for to Paradise you would
never win!"
"Paradise? What have I to do there? I seek not to win Paradise, so I
have Nicolette my sweet friend whom I love so well. For none go to
Paradise but I'll tell you who. Your old priests and your old cripples,
and the halt and maimed, who are down on their knees day and night,
before altars and in old crypts; these also that wear mangy old cloaks,
or go in rags and tatters, shivering and shoeless and showing their sores,
and who die of hunger and want and cold and misery. Such are they
who go to Paradise; and what have I to do with them? Hell is the place
for me. For to Hell go the fine churchmen, and the fine knights, killed
in the tourney or in some grand war, the brave soldiers and the gallant
gentlemen. With them will I go. There go also the fair gracious ladies
who have lovers two or three beside their lord. There go the gold and
the silver, the sables and ermines. There go the harpers and the

minstrels and the kings of the earth. With them will I go, so I have
Nicolette my most sweet friend with me."
"I' faith," said the Viscount, "'tis but vain to speak of it; you will see her
no more. Aye, were you to get speech of her and it came to your
father's ears, he would burn both her and me in a fire; and for yourself
too you might fear the worst."
"This is sore news to me," said Aucassin. And he departed from the
Viscount, sorrowful.
_Here they sing_.
Aucassin has turned once more
In wanhope and sorrow sore
For his
love-friend bright of face.
None can help his evil case,
None a word
of counsel say.
To the palace went his way;
Step by step he climbed
the stair;
Entered in a chamber there.
Then he 'gan to weep alone,

And most dismally to groan,
And his lady to bemoan.
"Nicolette, ah, gracious air!
Coming, going, ever fair!
In thy talk
and in thy toying,
In thy jest and in thy joying,
In thy kissing, in thy
coying.
I am sore distressed for thee.
Such a woe has come on me

That I trow not to win free,
Sweet sister friend!"
_Here they speak and tell the story_.
At the same time that Aucassin was in the chamber, bemoaning
Nicolette his friend, Bulgarius Count of Valence, who had his war to
maintain, forgat it not; but he had summoned his men, foot and horse,
and advanced to assault the castle. And the cry went up and the noise;
and the knights and men-at-arms girt on their armour, and hastened to
the gates and walls to defend the castle; while the townsfolk mounted
the parapets and hurled bolts and sharpened stakes. At the time when
the assault was fast and furious, Warren Count of Beaucaire came into
the chamber where Aucassin was weeping and bemoaning Nicolette his

most sweet friend whom he loved so well.
"Ah, my son!" said he. "Wretch that thou art and unhappy, to see
assault made on this thy castle--none better nor more strong! Know,
moreover, that if thou lose it thou losest thine inheritance! Come now,
my son, take thine arms and to horse! Fight for thy land, and succour
thy liegemen, and get thee to the field! Though thou strike never a man
nor be thyself stricken, if they but see thee among them they will make
a better fight for their lives and their havings, and for thy land and mine.
So tall art thou and so strong, 'tis no great thing to do; and it is thy
devoir."
"Father," said Aucassin, "to what purpose is this oration? Never God
give me ought that I ask of him, if I take knighthood or mount horse or
go to the fighting to smite knight or be myself smitten, if you give me
not Nicolette, my sweet friend, whom I love so well!"
"Son," said his father, "that cannot be. Rather would I suffer loss of all
my inheritance, aye, of all I have, than that thou shouldst have her to
woman