"You speak false in saying this," said the shepherd, who had his tongue more at command than the others had; "for there is not in all this forest a single lion, or boar, or stag, or any other brute, so rare, that one of his limbs should be worth more than two deniers, or three at most. And you talk of such sums of money, that no one will believe a word you say. You are a fairy, and no human creature. We do not want your company; and so go your way." "Ah, pretty boy!" said Nicolette again, "do what I bid you in the name of God; for the creature of which I speak to you has such power, that she can cure Aucassin of this trouble in which he is now. I have five sous in my purse, take them, and say to him, that, for three days, he must come to hunt for this creature in this forest; that, if he do not find her in three days at most, he will never be cured from his pain." "By my faith!" said the young shepherd, "we will take your money. If Aucassin passes this way, we will tell him what you say; but we will not go to find him." "God bless you!" said Nicolette. And so she bade the shepherds good-by courteously. [_Now they sing it._] Nicolette of lovely face Bade the shepherd boys good-day, And through the forest took her way, Till she came to a crossing-place, Where seven roads met in the wood; There, all alone, she thought it good Her lover's love to try. She gathers store of _fleurs-de-lis_ And thyme and brake, And many leaves, Her hut to make; And from all these she weaves The prettiest hut your eyes did ever see. And then, by every saint above, The pretty builder swore, That, if her darling dear Should never enter here, She would not be his darling more, Nor should he be her love. [_Now they speak it, and talk it, and tell it._] Nicolette having thus made her little hut, and thatched it thickly on the inside and on the outside with fresh leaves and fragrant flowers, hid herself under a bush to see what Aucassin would do. Now the rumor ran through all the country that Nicolette was lost. Some said that she had escaped, and others said that the Count Garin had killed her. If everybody else had been sure of this, Aucassin would not have been. But of this he gave no sign. And his father, well pleased to be rid of Nicolette, ordered that he should be released from prison, and bade all the knights and damsels of the country give _fêtes_ for him, which might distract him. The day when Nicolette disappeared, when the court of the count was crowded with knights and ladies, Aucassin was leaning against a pillar, all dejected, and out of his senses with sorrow, and only thinking of her he loved. A knight who saw how melancholy he was came to him and said,-- "Aucassin, I have been sick of the same disease as you, so that I know how to give you good advice, if you will only hear me."