Anon. - A.S.Kline
Nicole est in prison mise
En une canbre vautie
Ki faite est par grant devisse,
Panturee a miramie.
A la fenestre marbrine
La s'apoia la mescine:
Ele avoit blonde la crigne
Et bien faite la sorcille,
La face clere et traitice;
Ainc plus bele ne veïstos.
Esgarda par le gaudine
Et vit la rose espanie
Et les oisax qui se crient,
Dont se clama orphenine:
Ai mi! lasse moi, caitive!
Por coi sui en prison misse?
Aucassins, demoisiax sire,
Ja sui jou li vostre amie
Et vos ne me haés mie;
Por vos sui en prison misse
En ceste canbre vautie
U je trai molt male vie;
Mais, par Diu le fil Marie
Longement n'i serai mie,
Se iel puis fare.
Nicole is fast in prison
in a vaulted chamber there
fashioned with the greatest care
marvellously painted.
There the young girl leaned
on the marble window-sill:
she had hair of gold
and eyebrows sweetly made,
clear her oval face:
none more lovely seen.
She gazed through the garden
and saw the open rose,
and the birds that called,
then the orphan cried:
"Ah me! Alas, a captive!
Why am I in prison placed?
Aucassin, noble sire,
I am your friend indeed,
and you do not hate me:
for you I’m in prison placed
in this vaulted chamber
where I lead so harsh a life:
but, through God, Mary’s son,
I shall not be here for long,
if that I can achieve."

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Trans. Copyright© A.S.Kline 2001

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