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silken cushions sit around him listening； and their lovers； fettered with
silver chains； lie at their feet。 They listen； and look； and do not think of
the minstrel with his grey head and his green heart； but we think of him。
It is an old man's work； and a weary man's work。 You can easily tell the
places where he has lingered； and been pleased as he wrote。 They are
marked； like the bower Nicolete built； with flowers and broken branches
wet with dew。 Such a passage is the description of Nicolete at her
window； in the strangely painted chamber；
〃ki faite est par grant devisse panturee a miramie。〃
Thence
〃she saw the roses blow； Heard the birds sing loud and low。〃
Again； the minstrel speaks out what many must have thought； in
those incredulous ages of Faith； about Heaven and Hell； Hell where the
gallant company makes up for everything。 When he comes to a battle…
piece he makes Aucassin 〃mightily and knightly hurl through the press；〃
like one of Malory's men。 His hero must be a man of his hands； no mere
sighing youth incapable of arms。 But the minstrels heart is in other
things； for example； in the verses where Aucassin transfers to Beauty the
wonder…working powers of Holiness； and makes the sight of his lady heal
the palmer； as the shadow of the Apostle； falling on the sick people； healed
them by the Gate Beautiful。 The Flight of Nicolete is a familiar and
beautiful picture； the daisy flowers look black in the ivory moonlight
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Aucassin and Nicolete
against her feet； fair as Bombyca's 〃feet of carven ivory〃 in the Sicilian
idyll； long ago。 ｛4｝ It is characteristic of the poet that the two lovers begin
to wrangle about which loves best； in the very mouth of danger； while
Aucassin is yet in prison； and the patrol go down the moonlit street； with
swords in their hands； sworn to slay Nicolete。 That is the place and time
chosen for this ancient controversy。 Aucassin's threat that if he loses
Nicolete he will not wait for sword or knife； but will dash his head against
a wall； is in the very temper of the prisoned warrior…poet； who actually
chose this way of death。 Then the night scene； with its fantasy； and shadow；
and moonlight on flowers and street； yields to a picture of the day； with the
birds singing； and the shepherds laughing； in the green links between
wood and water。 There the shepherds take Nicolete for a fairy； so bright
a beauty shines about her。 Their mockery； their independence； may make
us consider again our ideas of early Feudalism。 Probably they were in
the service of townsmen； whose good town treated the Count as no more
than an equal of its corporate dignity。 The bower of branches built by
Nicolete is certainly one of the places where the minstrel himself has
rested and been pleased with his work。 One can feel it still； the cool of
that clear summer night； the sweet smell of broken boughs； and trodden
grass； and deep dew； and the shining of the star that Aucassin deemed was
the translated spirit of his lady。 Romance has touched the book here with
her magic； as she has touched the lines where we read how Consuelo came
by moonlight to the Canon's garden and the white flowers。 The pleasure
here is the keener for contrast with the luckless hind whom Aucassin
encountered in the forest： the man who had lost his master's ox； the
ungainly man who wept； because his mother's bed had been taken from
under her to pay his debt。 This man was in that estate which Achilles； in
Hades； preferred above the kingship of the dead outworn。 He was hind
and hireling to a villein；
＇Greek text＇
It is an unexpected touch of pity for the people； and for other than
love…sorrows； in a poem intended for the great and courtly people of
chivalry。
At last the lovers meet； in the lodge of flowers beneath the stars。 Here
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Aucassin and Nicolete
the story should end； though one could ill spare the pretty lecture the girl
reads her lover as they ride at adventure； and the picture of Nicolete； with
her brown stain； and jogleor's attire； and her viol； playing before Aucassin
in his own castle of Biaucaire。 The burlesque interlude of the country of
Torelore is like a page out of Rabelais； stitched into the cante…fable by
mistake。 At such lands as Torelore Pantagruel and Panurge touched
many a time in their vague voyaging。 Nobody； perhaps； can care very
much about Nicolete's adventures in Carthage； and her recognition by her
Paynim kindred。 If the old captive had been a prisoner among the
Saracens； he was too indolent or incurious to make use of his knowledge。
He hurries on to his journey's end；
〃Journeys end in lovers meeting。〃
So he finishes the tale。 What lives in it； what makes it live； is the
touch of poetry； of tender heart； of humorous resignation。 The old
captive says the story will gladden sad men：…
〃Nus hom n'est si esbahis； tant dolans ni entrepris； de grant mal
amaladis； se il l'oit； ne soit garis； et de joie resbaudis； tant par est douce。〃
This service it did for M。 Bida； the painter； as he tells us when he
translated Aucassin in 1870。 In dark and darkening days； patriai tempore
iniquo； we too have turned to Aucassin et Nicolete。 ｛5｝
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Aucassin and Nicolete
BALLADE OF AUCASSIN
Where smooth the Southern waters run Through rustling leagues of
poplars gray； Beneath a veiled soft Southern sun； We wandered out of
Yesterday； Went Maying in that ancient May Whose fallen flowers are
fragrant yet； And lingered by the fountain spray With Aucassin and
Nicolete。
The grassgrown paths are trod of none Where through the woods they
went astray； The spider's traceries are s