Then she deemeth she will try,

     Should her lover pass thereby,

     If he love her loyally.

     So she gathered white lilies,

     Oak-leaf, that in green wood is,

     Leaves of many a branch I wis,

     Therewith built a lodge of green,

     Goodlier was never seen,

     Swore by God who may not lie,

     “If my love the lodge should spy,

     He will rest awhile thereby

     If he love me loyally.”

     Thus his faith she deemed to try,

     “Or I love him not, not I,

     Nor he loves me!”

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

   Nicolete built her lodge of boughs, as ye have heard, right fair and feteously, and wove it well, within and without, of flowers and leaves. So lay she hard by the lodge in a deep coppice to know what Aucassin will do. And the cry and the bruit went abroad through all the country and all the land, that Nicolete was lost. Some told that she had fled, and some that the Count Garin had let slay her. Whosoever had joy thereof, no joy had Aucassin. And the Count Garin, his father, had taken him out of prison, and had sent for the knights of that land, and the ladies, and let make a right great 

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