Listen to a tale of love,
    Which an old grey captive wove. 
    Great delight and solace he
    Found in his captivity,
    As he told what toils beset
    Aucassin and Nicolette;
    And the dolour undergone,
    And the deeds of prowess done
    By a lad of noble race,
    For a lady fair of face. 
    Though a man be old and blind,
    Sick in body and in mind,
    If he hearken he shall be
    Filled with joy and jollity,
    So delectable and sweet
    Is the tale I now repeat.

Now, a war broke out between Count Bougars of Valence and Count Garin of Beaucaire; and Count Bougars besieged Beaucaire with a hundred knights and ten thousand men.  Then Count Garin, who was old and feeble, said to his fair young son, Aucassin: 

“Now, son, go and defend our land and people.”

“I tell you,” said Aucassin, “I will never draw sword unless I have my sweet love Nicolette to wife.”

“And I tell you,” said his father, “that I would liefer lose life and land than see you wedded to her.  What!  A Saracen girl, bought by one of my captains!  A slave!  A heathen!  A witch!  God!  I will burn her in a fire, and you with her.”

“Stay!” said Aucassin.  “I will make an agreement.  I will fight Count Bougars, if you will let me speak to Nicolette after the battle.”

“I agree,” said his father.  And he said this because Count Bougars was well night master of Beaucaire.

Aucassin went out to battle in great joy.  But his father went in great anger to the captain that had bought Nicolette from the Saracens, and said: 

“If I lay hands on that heathen girl, I will burn her in a fire, and you also, unless you have a care.”

And the captain who had adopted Nicolette as his daughter was afraid both for himself and for his godchild.  And he hid her in the tower that stood in the garden of his house.

    In the tower that Nicolette
    Prisoned is, may no man get. 
    Pleasant is her room to see,
    Carved and painted wondrously. 
    But no pleasure can she find
    In the paintings, to her mind. 
    Look!  For she is standing there
    By the window, with her hair
    Yellow like autumnal wheat
    When the sunshine falls on it. 
    Blue-grey eyes she has, and brows
    Whiter than the winter snows;
    And her face is like a flower,
    As she gazes from the tower: 
    As she gazes far below
    Where the garden roses blow,
    And the thrush and blackbird sing
    In the pleasant time of spring. 
    “Woe is me!” she cries, “that I
    In a prison cell must lie;
    Parted by a cruel spite
    From my young and lovely knight. 
    By the eyes of God, I swear
    Prisonment I will not bear! 
    Here for long I shall not stay: 
    Love will quickly find a way.”

In the meantime, Aucassin mounted a great war-horse, and rode out to battle.  Still dreaming of Nicolette, he let the reins fall, and his horse carried him among his foes.  They took him prisoner, and sent word to Count Bougars to come and see them hang the heir of Beaucaire.