Aucassin & Nicolette, and Other Mediæval Romances and Legends
General
Aucassin & Nicolette, and Other Mediæval Romances and Legends
French literature -- To 1500 -- Translations into English; Romances; Tales -- France; Tales, Medieval
Slowly or quickly thus passed the days, till came the tidings that Sir
Robert was on his way from Compostella, and was already near to Paris.
Very speedily this news was noised abroad, and Sir Raoul, fearing
greatly to lose his lands, again sought speech with the crone. Then
said the old woman that in no wise could she snare the bird, but that
for the great love she bore him this thing she would do--so he would
recompense her service--namely, that she would put matters in such a
case that none should be in the house save himself and the lady, and
then he could act according to his pleasure, whether she would or
whether she would not. So Raoul answered that he desired no other
thing.
"This I will do," said the old woman. "Messire shall come again in
eight days, and on that day shall my lady bathe within her bower. I
will see that all her household are forth from the castle, so may you
come privily to her chamber, and have your desire of her, whether she
cry yea or whether she cry nay."
"You have fairly spoken," answered he.
Hard upon this came letters from Messire Robert that he would be at
the castle on Sunday. On the Thursday, therefore, the crone caused the
bath to be heated in the bower, and the lady disarrayed herself to
enter therein. Then the old woman sent messages to Sir Raoul that he
should come speedily, and moreover she caused all the household to go
forth from that place. Sir Raoul came to the bower, and entering,
saluted the lady, but she deigned no reply to his greeting, and said--
"Sir Raoul, of a truth I thank you for this courtesy, yet you might
have asked if such a visit would be according to my wish. Accursed may
you be for a most ungentle knight."
But Sir Raoul made reply--
"Madame, for God's sake have pity upon me, for I die for love of you.
Lady, as you hope for grace, so grant grace to me."
"Sir Raoul," cried she, "never for pity will I grant you this day, or
any day, the grace of my love. Know well that if you do not leave me
alone in peace certainly will I tell your lord, my father, the honour
that you require of me, for I am no such woman as you think."
"Nay, lady, is it so indeed?"
"Yes, and very surely," replied she.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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