Then Aucassin put hand to sword, and hurled among them, and began to smite to the right hand and the left, and slew many of them.  And when the King saw that he slew them, he caught at his bridle and said,

“Ha! fair sir, slay them not in such wise.”

“How,” quoth Aucassin, “will ye not that I should avenge you of them?”

“Sir,” quoth the King, “overmuch already hast thou avenged me.  It is nowise our custom to slay each other.”

Anon turned they and fled.  Then the King and Aucassin betook them again to the castle of Torelore, and the folk of that land counselled the King to put Aucassin forth, and keep Nicolete for his son’s wife, for that she seemed a lady high of lineage.  And Nicolete heard them, and had no joy of it, so began to say: 

Here singeth one: 

   Thus she spake the bright of brow: 
   “Lord of Torelore and king,
   Thy folk deem me a light thing,
   When my love doth me embrace,
   Fair he finds me, in good case,
   Then am I in such derray,
   Neither harp, nor lyre, nor lay,
   Dance nor game, nor rebeck play
      Were so sweet.”

Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale: 

Aucassin dwelt in the castle of Torelore, in great ease and great delight, for that he had with him Nicolete his sweet love, whom he loved so well.  Now while he was in such pleasure and such delight, came a troop of Saracens by sea, and laid siege to the castle and took it by main strength.  Anon took they the substance that was therein and carried off the men and maidens captives.  They seized Nicolete and Aucassin, and bound Aucassin hand and foot, and cast him into one ship, and Nicolete into another.  Then rose there a mighty wind over sea, and scattered the ships.  Now that ship wherein was Aucassin, went wandering on the sea, till it came to the castle of Biaucaire, and the folk of the country ran together to wreck her, and there found they Aucassin, and they knew him again.  So when they of Biaucaire saw their damoiseau, they made great joy of him, for Aucassin had dwelt full three years in the castle of Torelore, and his father and mother were dead.  So the people took him to the castle of Biaucaire, and there were they all his men.  And he held the land in peace.

Here singeth one: 

   Lo ye, Aucassin hath gone
   To Biaucaire that is his own,
   Dwelleth there in joy and ease
   And the kingdom is at peace. 
   Swears he by the Majesty
   Of our Lord that is most high,
   Rather would he they should die
   All his kin and parentry,
   So that Nicolete were nigh. 
   “Ah sweet love, and fair of brow,
   I know not where to seek thee now,
   God made never that countrie,
   Not by land, and not by sea,
   Where I would not search for thee,
      If that might be!”

Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale: