sin, her lover, whom she loved, and of Count Garin, who hated her.

"I will stay here no longer," said Nicolette, "or the count will find me
and kill me."

The old woman that was set to watch over her was asleep. Nicolette put
on her fine silken kirtle, and took the bedclothes and knotted them
together, and made a rope. This she fastened to the bar of her window,
and so got down from the tower. Then she lifted up her kirtle with both
hands, because the dew was lying deep on the grass, and went away down
the garden.

Her locks were yellow and curled; her eyes blue-grey and laughing; her
lips were redder than the cherry or rose in summertime; her teeth white
and small; so slim was her waist that you could have clipped her in your
two hands; and so firm were her breasts that they rose against her
bodice as if they were two apples. The daisies that bent above her
instep, and broke beneath her light tread, looked black against her
feet; so white the maiden was.

She came to the postern gate, and unbarred it, and went out through the
streets of Beaucaire, keeping always in the shadows, for the moon was
shining. And so she got to the dungeon where her lover, Aucassin, lay.
She thrust her head through the chink, and there she heard Aucassin
grieving for her whom he loved so much.

"Ah, Aucassin!" she said. "Never will you have joy of me. Your father
hates me to death, and I must cross the sea, and go to some strange
land."

"If you were to go away," said Aucassin, "you would kill me. The first
man that saw you would take you to his bed. And, then, do you think I
would wait till I found a knife? No! I would dash my head to pieces
against a wall or a rock."

"Ah!" she said. "I love you more than you love me."

"Nay, my sweet lady," said he. "Woman cannot love man as much as man
loves woman. Woman only loves with her eyes; man loves with his heart."

Aucassin and Nicolette were thus debating, when the soldiers of the
count came marching down the street. Their swords were drawn, and they
were seeking for Nicolette to slay her.

"God, it were a great pity to kill so fair a maid!" said the warden of
the dungeon. "My young lord Aucassin would die of it, and that would be
a great loss to Beaucaire. Would that I could warn Nicolette!"

And with that, he struck up a merry tune, but the words he sang to it
were not merry.

Lady with the yellow hair,
Lovely, sweet and debonair,
Now take heed.
Death comes