He got to horse, and Aucassin mounted his, leaving Nicolette at peace in the Queen's chamber. The King and Aucassin rode at adventure until they came to where the Queen was set, and they found that the battle was joined with roasted crab-apples and eggs and fresh cheeses. So Aucassin gazed upon the sight and marvelled greatly. Now is sung: Aucassin hath drawn his rein, From the saddle stared amain, Marked the set and stricken field, Cheered the hearts that would not yield. They had carried to the fight Mushrooms, apples baked aright, And for arrows, if you please, Pelted each with good fresh cheese. He who muddied most the ford Bore the prize in that award. Aucassin, the brave, the true, Watched these deeds of derring do, Laughed loudly too. Now they say and tell and relate: When Aucassin saw this strange sight he went to the King and asked of him-- "Sire, are these your foes?" "Yea, sire," answered the King. "And would you that I should avenge you on them?" "Yea," answered he, "right willingly." So Aucassin took sword in hand, and throwing himself in the _mêlée_, struck fiercely on the right and on the left, and slew many. When the King saw the death that Aucassin dealt he snatched at his bridle and cried-- "Hold, fair sire, deal not with them so cruelly." "What," said Aucassin, "was it not your wish that I should avenge you on your enemies?" "Sire," replied the King, "too ready is such payment as yours. It is not our custom, nor theirs, to fight a quarrel to the death." Thereon the foemen fled the field. The King and Aucassin returned in triumph to the castle of Torelore, and the men of the country persuaded the King that he should cast Aucassin forth from the realm, and give Nicolette to his son, for she seemed a fair woman of high lineage. When Nicolette heard thereof she had little comfort, so began to say-- Now is sung: Simple folk, and simple King, Deeming maid so slight a thing. When my lover finds me sweet, Sweetly shapen, brow to feet, Then know I such dalliance, No delight of harp, or dance, Sweetest tune, or fairest mirth, All the play of all the earth Seems aught of worth. Now they say and tell and relate: