Anon. - Andrew Lang
Aucassins fu de biaucaire
D'un castel del bel repaire
De nicole le bien faite
Nuis hom ne l'en puet retraire
Que ses peres ne l'i laisse
Et sa mere le manace
Di va! faus, que vex tu faire?
Nicolete est cointe et gaie
Jetee fu de Cartage
Acatee fu d'un Saisne
Puis qa'a moullié te vix traire
Pren femme de haut parage
Mere, je n'en puis el faire
Nicolete est de boin aire
Ses gens cors et son viaire
Sa biautés le cuer m'esclaire
Bien est drois que s'amor aie
Que trop est douce
Aucassin was of Biaucaire
Of a goodly castle there,
But from Nicolete the fair
None might win his heart away
Though his father, many a day,
And his mother said him nay,
"Ha! fond child, what wouldest thou?
Nicolete is glad enow!
Was from Carthage cast away,
Paynims sold her on a day!
Wouldst thou win a lady fair
Choose a maid of high degree
Such an one is meet for thee."
"Nay of these I have no care,
Nicolete is debonaire,
Her body sweet and the face of her
Take my heart as in a snare,
Loyal love is but her share
That is so sweet."

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