Of the peril that befell.

     “Maiden fair that lingerest here,

     Gentle maid of merry cheer,

     Hair of gold, and eyes as clear

     As the water in a mere,

     Thou, meseems, hast spoken word

     To thy lover and thy lord,

     That would die for thee, his dear;

     Now beware the ill accord,

     Of the cloaked men of the sword,

     These have sworn and keep their word,

     They will put thee to the sword

     Save thou take heed!”

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

   “Ha!” quoth Nicolete, “be the soul of thy father and the soul of thy mother in the rest of Paradise, so fairly and so courteously hast thou spoken me! Please God, I will be right ware of them, God keep me out of their hands.”

   So she shrank under her mantle into the shadow of the pillar till they had passed by, and then took she farewell of Aucassin, and so fared till she came unto the castle wall. Now that wall was wasted and broken, and some deal mended, so she clomb thereon till she came between wall and fosse, and so looked down, and saw that the fosse was deep and steep, whereat she was sore adread.

   “Ah God,” saith she, “sweet Saviour! If I let myself fall hence, I shall break my neck, and if here I abide, to-morrow they will take me and burn me in a fire. Yet liefer would I perish here than that to-morrow the folk should stare on me for a gazing-stock.”

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