Nicolette, that maid demure, Set her foot on alien shore; Marked the city fenced with walls, Gazed on palaces and halls. Then she sighed, "Ah, little worth All the pomp of all the earth, Since the daughter of a king, Come of Sultan's blood, they bring Stripped to market, as a slave. Aucassin, true heart and brave, Sweet thy love upon me steals, Urges, clamours, pleads, appeals; Would to God that peril past In my arms I held you fast; Would to God that in this place We were stayed in one embrace, Fell your kisses on my face, My dear, my fere." Now they say and tell and relate: When the King of Carthage heard Nicolette speak in this wise he put his arms about her neck. "Fair sweet friend," said he, "tell me truly who you are, and be not esmayed of me." "Sire," answered she, "truly am I daughter to the King of Carthage, and was stolen away when but a little child, full fifteen years ago." When they heard her say this thing they were assured that her words were true, so they rejoiced greatly, and brought her to the palace in such pomp as became the daughter of a king. They sought to give her some king of those parts as husband and baron, but she had no care to marry. She stayed in the palace three or four days, and considered in her mind by what means she might flee and seek Aucassin. So she obtained a viol, and learned to play thereon; and when on a certain day they would have given her in marriage to a rich king among the Paynim, she rose at night and stole away secretly, wandering until she came to the seaport, where she lodged with some poor woman in a house near the shore. There, by means of a herb, she stained her head and face, so that her fairness was all dark and discoloured; and having made herself coat and mantle, shirt and hose, she equipped her in the guise of a minstrel. Then, taking her viol, she sought out a sailor, and persuaded him sweetly to grant her a passage in his ship. They hoisted sail, and voyaged over the rough seas until they came to the land of Provence; and Nicolette set foot on shore, carrying her viol, and fared playing through the country, until she came to the castle of Beaucaire, in the very place where Aucassin was. Now is sung: