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〃The damoiseau was tall and strong； and the horse whereon he sat
fierce and great； and Aucassin laid hand to sword； and fell a…
smiting to right and left； and smote through helm and headpiece； and
arm and shoulder； making a murder about him； like a wild boar the
hounds fall on in the forest。 There slew he ten knights； and smote
down seven； and mightily and knightly he hurled through the press；
and charged home again； sword in hand。〃 For that hour Aucassin
struck like one of Mallory's men in the best of all romances。 But
though he took Count Bougars prisoner； his father would not keep his
word； nor let him have one word or two with Nicolette； and one kiss。
Nay； Aucassin was thrown into prison in an old tower。 There he sang
of Nicolette；
〃Was it not the other day
That a pilgrim came this way？
And a passion him possessed；
That upon his bed he lay；
Lay； and tossed； and knew no rest；
In his pain discomforted。
But thou camest by his bed；
Holding high thine amice fine
And thy kirtle of ermine。
Then the beauty that is thine
Did he look on； and it fell
That the Pilgrim straight was well；
Straight was hale and comforted。
And he rose up from his bed；
And went back to his own place
Sound and strong； and fair of face。〃
Thus Aucassin makes a Legend of his lady； as it were； assigning to
her beauty such miracles as faith attributes to the excellence of
the saints。
Meanwhile； Nicolette had slipped from the window of her prison
chamber； and let herself down into the garden； where she heard the
song of the nightingales。 〃Then caught she up her kirtle in both
hands； behind and before； and flitted over the dew that lay deep on
the grass； and fled out of the garden； and the daisy flowers bending
below her tread seemed dark against her feet； so white was the
maiden。〃 Can't you see her stealing with those 〃feet of ivory；〃
like Bombyca's； down the dark side of the silent moonlit streets of
Beaucaire？
Then she came where Aucassin was lamenting in his cell； and she
whispered to him how she was fleeing for her life。 And he answered
that without her he must die； and then this foolish pair； in the
very mouth of peril； must needs begin a war of words as to which
loved the other best！
〃Nay； fair sweet friend；〃 saith Aucassin； 〃it may not be that thou
lovest me more than I love thee。 Woman may not love man as man
loves woman； for a woman's love lies no deeper than in the glance of
her eye； and the blossom of her breast； and her foot's tip…toe； but
man's love is in his heart planted； whence never can it issue forth
and pass away。〃
So while they speak
〃In debate as birds are；
Hawk on bough；〃
comes the kind sentinel to warn them of a danger。 And Nicolette
flees； and leaps into the fosse； and thence escapes into a great
forest and lonely。 In the morning she met shepherds merry over
their meat； and bade them tell Aucassin to hunt in that forest；
where he should find a deer whereof one glance would cure him of his
malady。 The shepherds are happy； laughing people； who half mock
Nicolette； and quite mock Aucassin； when he comes that way。 But at
first they took Nicolette for a fee； such a beauty shone so brightly
from her； and lit up all the forest。 Aucassin they banter； and
indeed the free talk of the peasants to their lord's son in that
feudal age sounds curiously； and may well make us reconsider our
notions of early feudalism。
But Aucassin learns at least that Nicolette is in the wood； and he
rides at adventure after her； till the thorns have ruined his silken
surcoat； and the blood； dripping from his torn body； makes a visible
track in the grass。 So； as he wept； he met a monstrous man of the
wood； that asked him why he lamented。 And he said he was sorrowing
for a lily…white hound that he had lost。 Then the wild man mocked
him； and told his own tale。 He was in that estate which Achilles；
among the ghosts； preferred to all the kingship of the dead outworn。
He was hind and hireling to a villein； and he had lost one of the
villein's oxen。 For that he dared not go into the town； where a
prison awaited him。 Moreover； they had dragged the very bed from
under his old mother； to pay the price of the ox； and she lay on
straw； and at that the woodman wept。
A curious touch； is it not； of pity for the people？ The old poet is
serious for one moment。 〃Compare；〃 he says； 〃the sorrows of
sentiment； of ladies and lovers； praised in song； with the sorrows
of the poor； with troubles that are real and not of the heart！〃
Even Aucassin the lovelorn feels it； and gives the hind money to pay
for his ox； and so riding on comes to a lodge that Nicolette has
built with blossoms and boughs。 And Aucassin crept in and looked
through a gap in the fragrant walls of the lodge； and saw the stars
in heaven； and one that was brighter than the rest。
Does one not feel it； the cool of that old summer night； the sweet
smell of broken boughs and trodden grass and deep dew； and the
shining of the star？
〃Star that I from far behold
That the moon draws to her fold；
Nicolette with thee doth dwell；
My sweet love with locks of gold；〃
sings Aucassin。 〃And when Nicolette heard Aucassin； right so came
she unto him； and passed within the lodge； and cast her arms about
his neck and kissed and embraced him：
〃Fair sweet friend； welcome be thou！〃
〃And thou； fair sweet love； be thou welcome！〃
There the story should end； in a dream of a summer's night。 But the
old minstrel did not end it so； or some one has continued his work
with a heavier hand。 Aucassin rides； he cares not whither； if he
has but his love with him。 And they come to a fantastic land of
burlesque； such as Pantagruel's crew touched at many a time。 And
Nicolette is taken by Carthaginian pirates； and proves to be
daughter to the King of Carthage； and leaves his court and comes to
Beaucaire in the disguise of a ministrel； and 〃journeys end in
lovers' meeting。〃
That is all the tale； with its gaps； its careless passages； its
adventures that do not interest the poet。 He only cares for youth；
love； spring； flowers； and the song of the birds； the rest； except
the passage about the hind； is mere 〃business〃 done casually；
because the audience expects broad jests； hard blows； misadventures；
recognitions。 What lives is the touch of poetry； of longing； of
tender heart； of humorous resignation。 It lives； and always must
live； 〃while the nature of man is the same。〃 The poet hopes his
tale will gladden sad men。 This service it did for M。 Bida； he
says； in the dreadful year of 1870…71； when he translated
〃Aucassin。〃 This； too； it has done for me in days not delightful。
｛6｝
PLOTINUS （A。D。 200…262）
To the Lady Violet Lebas。
Dear Lady Violet；You are discursive and desultory enough； as a
reader； to have pleased even the late Lord Iddesleigh。 It was
〃Au