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 a
great master, that he would not, of his will, be dubbed knight, nor take
arms, nor follow tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed. Therefore his
father and mother said to him;

"Son, go take thine arms, mount thy horse, and hold thy land, and help
thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will they keep in
battle their lives, and lands, and thine, and mine."

"Father," said Aucassin, "I marvel that you will be speaking. Never may
God give me aught of my desire if I be made knight, or mount my horse, or
face stour and battle wherein knights smite and are smitten again, unless
thou give me Nicolete, my true love, that I love so well."

"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolete go, a slave girl
she is, out of a strange land, and the captain of this town bought her of
the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath reared her and let
christen the maid, and took her for his daughter in God, and one day will
find a young man for her, to win her bread honourably. Herein hast thou
naught to make or mend, but if a wife thou wilt have, I will give thee
the daughter of a King, or a Count. There is no man so rich in France,
but if thou desire his daughter, thou shalt have her."

"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so high in
all the world, that Nicolete, my sweet lady and love, would not grace it
well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of Germany, or Queen of
France or England, it were little enough for her; so gentle is she and
courteous, and debonaire, and compact of all good qualities."

_Here singeth one_:

Aucassin was of Biaucaire
Of a goodly castle there,
But from Nicolete the fair
None might win his heart away
Though his father, many a day,
And his mother said him nay,
"Ha! fond child, what wouldest thou?
Nicolete is glad enow!
Was from Carthage cast away,
Paynims sold her on a day!
Wouldst thou win a lady fair
Choose a maid of high degree
Such an one is meet for thee."
"Nay of these I have no care,
Nicolete is debonaire,
Her body sweet and the face of her
Take my heart as in a snare,
Loyal love is but her share
That is so sweet."

Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:

When the Count Gari