The woods were two arbalist shots away from her,--woods which stretched thirty leagues this way, and thirty leagues that way, all haunted by wild beasts and venomous serpents. Poor Nicolette was frightened to death when she thought of them, because she did not want to be eaten alive; but still she pressed on, because she had no more wish to be burned alive. [_Now they sing it._] Nicolette, of lovely face, Clambered from the ditch so deep, And then began to wail and weep, And to Jesus Christ to cry:-- "Father, king of majesty, I do not know Where I shall go; For if, in flight, I should Lose me in the wood, The boars and lions grim Would tear me limb from limb; But if men find me anywhere, And to the town I am returned, They'll light a fire in the square, And to the stake will tie me there, And my body will be burned. "No, my God, no! Hear me as I cry; It shall not be so; Better far that I By the wolves be hunted down, Than go captive to the town So to die! "I will not go." [_Now they tell it, and speak it, and talk it._] Nicolette grieved, as you have heard, and then commended herself to God, and plunged into the woods, but did not dare go too far in, for fear of beasts and snakes. She walked along for some time by the edge of the wood, frightened to death, starting at the slightest sound, and then going forward again with the utmost care. She walked this way and that, till she was so tired that she could walk no longer, and she lay down on a smooth bed of grass, and went to sleep; and there she slept till morning. Early in the morning some shepherds passed by, on their way towards the town, as they were driving their sheep and herds to feed between the woods and the river. Now there was a fresh fountain near the place where Nicolette was lying; and it happened that the shepherds came to the fountain, and spread a cloak on the grass, and put their bread upon it, and sat down there for their simple breakfast. While they were eating it, Nicolette was wakened by their talk, and by the song of the birds who were twittering in the branches. She went to the shepherds, and spoke to the youngest of them, and said,-- "Pretty boy, may our Lady Mary take care of you!" "May God bless you!" replied this young shepherd, whose speech came easier to him than the others. "Pretty boy," said Nicolette, "do you know Aucassin, the son of Count Garin, of Beaucaire?" "Oh, yes! we know him." "As you would have God bless you, pretty boy, tell him that there is a strange wild beast in this wood; and that he ought to come out to hunt for her; and that, if he takes her, he would not give one of her limbs,--no, not for a hundred marks of gold, nor for five hundred marks, nor for all the gold that can be told." As she said this, the shepherds were looking at Nicolette, and were wondering at her beauty.