Aucassin fared through the forest from path to path after Nicolette, and his horse bare him furiously.  Think ye not that the thorns him spared, nor the briars, nay, not so, but tare his raiment, that scarce a knot might be tied with the soundest part thereof, and the blood spurted from his arms, and flanks, and legs, in forty places, or thirty, so that behind the Childe men might follow on the track of his blood in the grass.  But so much he went in thoughts of Nicolette, his lady sweet, that he felt no pain nor torment, and all the day hurled through the forest in this fashion nor heard no word of her.  And when he saw vespers draw nigh, he began to weep for that he found her not.  All down an old road, and grass-grown, he fared, when anon, looking along the way before him, he saw such an one as I shall tell you.  Tall was he, and great of growth, ugly and hideous:  his head huge, and blacker than charcoal, and more than the breadth of a hand between his two eyes; and he had great cheeks, and a big nose and flat, big nostrils and wide, and thick lips redder than steak, and great teeth yellow and ugly, and he was shod with hosen and shoon of ox-hide, bound with cords of bark up over the knee, and all about him a great cloak two-fold; and he leaned upon a grievous cudgel, and Aucassin came unto him, and was afraid when he beheld him.

AUCASSIN FINDS NICOLETTE’S LODGE

So they parted from each other, and Aucassin rode on; the night was fair and still, and so long he went that he came to the lodge of boughs that Nicolette had builded and woven within and without, over and under, with flowers, and it was the fairest lodge that might be seen.  When Aucassin was ware of it, he stopped suddenly, and the light of the moon fell therein.

“Forsooth!” quoth Aucassin, “here was Nicolette, my sweet lady, and this lodge builded she with her fair hands.  For the sweetness of it, and for love of her, will I now alight, and rest here this night long.”

He drew forth his foot from the stirrup to alight, and the steed was great and tall.  He dreamed so much on Nicolette, his right sweet friend, that he fell heavily upon a stone, and drave his shoulder out of its place.  Then knew he that he was hurt sore; nathless he bore him with that force he might, and fastened his horse with the other hand to a thorn.  Then turned he on his side, and crept backwise into the lodge of boughs.  And he looked through a gap in the lodge and saw the stars in heaven, and one that was brighter than the rest; so began he to say:—­

Here one singeth:—­

“Star, that I from far behold,
Star the moon calls to her fold,
Nicolette with thee doth dwell,
My sweet love, with locks of gold. 
God would have her dwell afar,
Dwell with him for evening star. 
Would to God, whate’er befell,
Would that with her I might dwell. 
I would clip her close and strait;
Nay, were I of much estate,
Some king’s son desirable,
Worthy she to be my mate,
Me to kiss and clip me well,
Sister, sweet friend!”