At Beaucaire beneath the tower Aucassin was one fair hour. Here he sat him on a stair; Round him his proud barons were; Saw the flower and green herb spring, Heard the song-bird sweetly sing; Of his love he thought anew, Nicolette the maiden true, Whom he loved so long a day; Then to tears and sighs gave way. Look you, Nicolette below Draws her viol, draws her bow; Now she speaks, her tale tells so: "List to me, proud lords arow, Those aloft and those alow! Would it please you hear a word Of Aucassin, a proud lord, And of Nicolette the bold? Long their love did last and hold Till he sought her in the wold. Then, from Torelore's stronghold, They were haled by heathen horde. Of Aucassin we've no word. Nicolette the maiden bold Is at Carthage the stronghold, Whom her father dear doth hold Who of yonder land is lord. Husband they would her award, Felon king of heathenesse. Nicolette cares not for this, For she loves a lording lad, Aucassin to name he had. By God and His name she vows Never lord will she espouse, If she have not her true love She's so fain of." _Here they speak and tell the story_. When Aucassin heard Nicolette speak thus, he was very glad, and he took her on one side, and asked her, "Fair sweet comrade," said Aucassin, "know you ought of this Nicolette, of whom you have sung?" "Sir, yes! I know of her as the noblest creature and the gentlest and wisest that ever was born. And she is daughter to the king of Carthage, who took her when Aucassin was taken, and carried her to the city of Carthage, when he knew surely that she was his daughter, and made very great rejoicing over her. And every day they wish to give her for lord one of the highest kings in all Spain. But she would rather let herself be hanged or drowned than she would take any of them, were he ever so rich." "Ah, fair sweet comrade," said the Count Aucassin, "if you would go back to that land, and would tell her to come and speak to me, I would give you of my wealth as much as you should dare ask or take. Know, moreover, that for the love of her I will take no wife, were she of ever so high degree, but I wait for her; nor will I ever have any wife save her. And had I known where to find her I should not now have to seek her." "Sir," said she, "if you would do this, I would go to seek her, for your sake, and for hers, whom I love much." He sware to her; and then he bade give her twenty pounds. And as she took leave of him, he fell weeping for the sweetness of Nicolette. And when she saw him weeping, "Sir," said she, "be not afraid! Since within a little while I will bring her to you in this town, so that you shall see her."