Aucassin was armed, then, as you have heard. How bright his shield, as it hung from his neck! how well his helmet fitted his head! and how his sword clanged, hanging upon his thigh! The young man was tall, strong, handsome, and well armed. His horse was swift; and he was soon at the castle-gate. Now, do not go and think that he was thinking the least in the world of capturing oxen or cows or goats! No, nor of giving mortal blows to the knights or the other soldiers of Count Bougars de Valence! Oh, no, not he! He had something else in his head and in his heart; for he was thinking of Nicolette, his darling sweetheart. So he even forgot to hold up his reins; and his horse, as soon as he once felt the spurs, carried him in full _mêlée_ into the very middle of his enemies. They were overjoyed at such luck. They surrounded him, and seized his lance and his shield, and, as they led him away prisoner, began to ask each other with what death they would make him die. "Alas!" said Aucassin to himself, "these are my mortal enemies, who are leading me away to cut off my head. But, if my head is cut off, I shall never be able to speak again to Nicolette, my darling sweetheart." Then he added, "I still have my good sword. I am mounted on a strong horse. If he does not save me from the _mêlée_, it is because he never loved me, and then may God never help him!" So he grasped his sword in his hand, and drove his spurs into his horse's side again, and struck to right, and struck to left, and cut and thrust. At every blow, he chopped off heads and arms, and all around him he made the place bloody and empty, as a boar does when he is assailed by dogs in a forest. Ten knights were thus maimed, and seven others were wounded. Then he withdrew at once from the _mêlée_ with his horse at full gallop, still grasping his sword in his hand. Now the Count Bougars de Valence had heard they had captured his enemy Aucassin, and that they were going to hang him. He came up there at just this moment. Aucassin recognized him, and struck him a heavy blow with his sword full on his helmet, so that it was crushed down upon his head, and he fell stunned upon the ground. Then the young man took him by the hand to help him up, and, as soon as he could stand, took him by the nose-piece of his helmet, and led him, without more ado, to his father, the Count Garin de Beaucaire, to whom he said,-- "Father, here is your enemy, who has fought so long against you, and done you so much mischief. This war which he has made against you has lasted now for twenty years, and no one has been able to bring it to a good end. But I hope it is finished to-day." "Dear son," replied the old count, "such feats of youth as this are worth much more than your foolish loves." "Father," replied Aucassin, "do not begin to preach to me, I beg you. Think, rather, of keeping the promise which you gave to me." "What promise, my dear boy?"