his
arms and his sides and his legs in forty places or thirty; so that one
could have followed the boy by the trace of the blood that fell upon the
grass. But he thought so much on Nicolette, his sweet friend, that he
felt neither hurt nor pain. All day long he rode through the forest, but
so it was that he never heard news of her. And, when he saw that evening
drew on, he began to weep because he found her not.

He was riding down an old grassy road, when he looked before him in the
way and saw a boy, and I will tell you what he was like. He was tall of
stature and wonderful to see, so ugly and hideous. He had a monstrous
shock-head black as coal, and there was more than a full palm-breadth
between his two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and an immense flat nose,
with great wide nostrils, and thick lips redder than a roast, and great
ugly yellow teeth. He was shod in leggings and shoes of ox-hide, laced
with bast to above the knee; and was wrapped in a cloak which seemed
inside out either way on, and was leaning on a great club. Aucassin
sprang to meet him, and was terrified at the nearer sight of him.

"Fair brother, may God help you!"

"May God bless you!" said he.

"So God help you, what do you there?"

"What matters it to you?" said he.

"Nothing"; said Aucassin; "I ask not for any ill reason."

"But wherefore are you weeping," said he, "and making such sorrow? I'
faith, were I as rich a man as you are, all the world would not make me
weep!"

"Bah! Do you know me?" said Aucassin.

"Aye. I know well that you are Aucassin the son of the Count; and if you
tell me wherefore you are weeping I will tell you what I am doing here."

"Certes," said Aucassin, "I will tell you right willingly. I came this
morning to hunt in this forest; and I had a white greyhound, the fairest
in the world, and I have lost it; 'tis for this I am weeping."

"Hear him!" said he, "by the blessed heart! and you wept for a stinking
dog! Sorrow be his who ever again hold you in account! Why there is no
man in this land so rich, of whom if your father asked ten, or fifteen,
or twenty, he would not give them only too willingly, and be only too
glad. Nay, 'tis I should weep and make sorrow."

"And wherefore you, brother?"

"Sir, I will tell you. I was hireling to a rich farmer, and drove his
plough--four oxen there were. Three days since a great misfortune befell
me. I lost the best of my oxen, Roget, the best of my team