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idyll； long ago。 ｛4｝ It is characteristic of the poet that the two lovers begin
to wrangle about which loves best； in the very mouth of danger； while
Aucassin is yet in prison； and the patrol go down the moonlit street； with
swords in their hands； sworn to slay Nicolete。 That is the place and time
chosen for this ancient controversy。 Aucassin's threat that if he loses
Nicolete he will not wait for sword or knife； but will dash his head against
a wall； is in the very temper of the prisoned warrior…poet； who actually
chose this way of death。 Then the night scene； with its fantasy； and shadow；
and moonlight on flowers and street； yields to a picture of the day； with the
birds singing； and the shepherds laughing； in the green links between
wood and water。 There the shepherds take Nicolete for a fairy； so bright
a beauty shines about her。 Their mockery； their independence； may make
us consider again our ideas of early Feudalism。 Probably they were in
the service of townsmen； whose good town treated the Count as no more
than an equal of its corporate dignity。 The bower of branches built by
Nicolete is certainly one of the places where the minstrel himself has
rested and been pleased with his work。 One can feel it still； the cool of
that clear summer night； the sweet smell of broken boughs； and trodden
grass； and deep dew； and the shining of the star that Aucassin deemed was
the translated spirit of his lady。 Romance has touched the book here with
her magic； as she has touched the lines where we read how Consuelo came
by moonlight to the Canon's garden and the white flowers。 The pleasure
here is the keener for contrast with the luckless hind whom Aucassin
encountered in the forest： the man who had lost his master's ox； the
ungainly man who wept； because his mother's bed had been taken from
under her to pay his debt。 This man was in that estate which Achilles； in
Hades； preferred above the kingship of the dead outworn。 He was hind
and hireling to a villein；
＇Greek text＇
It is an unexpected touch of pity for the people； and for other than
love…sorrows； in a poem intended for the great and courtly people of
chivalry。
At last the lovers meet； in the lodge of flowers beneath the stars。 Here
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Aucassin and Nicolete
the story should end； though one could ill spare the pretty lecture the girl
reads her lover as they ride at adventure； and the picture of Nicolete； with
her brown stain； and jogleor's attire； and her viol； playing before Aucassin
in his own castle of Biaucaire。 The burlesque interlude of the country of
Torelore is like a page out of Rabelais； stitched into the cante…fable by
mistake。 At such lands as Torelore Pantagruel and Panurge touched
many a time in their vague voyaging。 Nobody； perhaps； can care very
much about Nicolete's adventures in Carthage； and her recognition by her
Paynim kindred。 If the old captive had been a prisoner among the
Saracens； he was too indolent or incurious to make use of his knowledge。
He hurries on to his journey's end；
〃Journeys end in lovers meeting。〃
So he finishes the tale。 What lives in it； what makes it live； is the
touch of poetry； of tender heart； of humorous resignation。 The old
captive says the story will gladden sad men：…
〃Nus hom n'est si esbahis； tant dolans ni entrepris； de grant mal
amaladis； se il l'oit； ne soit garis； et de joie resbaudis； tant par est douce。〃
This service it did for M。 Bida； the painter； as he tells us when he
translated Aucassin in 1870。 In dark and darkening days； patriai tempore
iniquo； we too have turned to Aucassin et Nicolete。 ｛5｝
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Aucassin and Nicolete
BALLADE OF AUCASSIN
Where smooth the Southern waters run Through rustling leagues of
poplars gray； Beneath a veiled soft Southern sun； We wandered out of
Yesterday； Went Maying in that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are
fragrant yet； And lingered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and
Nicolete。
The grassgrown paths are trod of none Where through the woods they
went astray； The spider's traceries are spun Across the darkling forest way；
There come no Knights that ride to slay； No Pilgrims through the grasses
wet； No shepherd lads that sang their say With Aucassin and Nicolete。
'Twas here by Nicolete begun Her lodge of boughs and blossoms gay；
'Scaped from the cell of marble dun 'Twas here the lover found the Fay； O
lovers fond； O foolish play！ How hard we find it to forget； Who fain
would dwell with them as they； With Aucassin and Nicolete。
ENVOY。
Prince； 'tis a melancholy lay！ For Youth； for Life we both regret： How
fair they seem； how far away； With Aucassin and Nicolete。
A。 L。
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Aucassin and Nicolete
BALLADE OF NICOLETE
All bathed in pearl and amber light She rose to fling the lattice wide；
And leaned into the fragrant night； Where brown birds sang of summertide；
（'Twas Love's own voice that called and cried） 〃Ah； Sweet！〃 she said； 〃I'll
seek thee yet； Though thorniest pathways should betide The fair white feet
of Nicolete。〃
They slept； who would have stayed her flight； （Full fain were they the
maid had died！） She dropped adown her prison's height On strands of
linen featly tied。 And so she passed the garden…side With loose…leaved
roses sweetly set； And dainty daisies； dark beside The fair white feet of
Nicolete！
Her lover lay in evil plight （So many lovers yet abide！） I would my
tongue could praise aright Her name； that should be glorified。 Those
lovers now； whom foes divide A little weep；and soon forget。 How far
from these faint lovers glide The fair white feet of Nicolete。
ENVOY。
My Princess； doff thy frozen pride； Nor scorn to pay Love's golden
debt； Through his dim woodland take for guide The fair white feet of
Nicolete。
GRAHAM R。 TOMSON
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Aucassin and Nicolete
THE SONG…STORY OF
AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE
'Tis of Aucassin and Nicolete。
Who would list to the good lay Gladness of the captive grey？ 'Tis
how two young lovers met； Aucassin and Nicolete； Of the pains the lover
bore And the sorrows he outwore； For the goodness and the grace； Of his
love； so fair of face。
Sweet the song； the story sweet； There is no man hearkens it； No man
living 'neath the sun； So outwearied； so foredone； Sick and woful； worn
and sad； But is healed； but is glad 'Tis so sweet。
So say they； speak they； tell they the Tale：
How the Count Bougars de Valence made war on Count Garin de
Biaucaire； war so great； and so marvellous； and so mortal that never a day
dawned but alway he was there； by the gates and walls； and barriers of the
town with a hundred knights； and ten thousand men at arms； horsemen and
footmen： so burned he the Count's land； and spoiled his country； and
slew his men。 Now the Count Garin de Biaucaire was old and frail； and
his good days were gone over。 No heir had he； neither son nor daughter；
save one young man only； such an one as I shall tell you。 Aucassin was
the name of the damoiseau： fair was he； goodly； and great； and featly
fashioned of his body； and limbs。 His hair was yellow； in little curls； his
eyes blue and laughing； his face beautiful and shapely； his nose high and
well set； and so richly seen was he in all things good； that in him was none
evil at all。 But so suddenly overtaken was he of Love； who is