the world around him, and for which he contemns everything that the age prized:  knightly honour; deeds of arms; father and mother; hell, and even heaven; but the mere promise by his father of a kiss from Nicolette inspires him to superhuman heroism; while the old poet sings and smiles aside to his audience as though he wished them to understand that Aucassins, a foolish boy, must not be judged quite seriously, but that, old as he was himself, he was just as foolish about Nicolette.”

Aucassins was the son of the Count of Beaucaire.  Nicolette was a young girl whom the Viscount of Beaucaire had redeemed as a captive of the Saracens, and had brought up as a god-daughter in his family.  Aucassins fell in love with Nicolette, and wanted to marry her.  The action turned on marriage, for, to the Counts of Beaucaire, as to other counts, not to speak of kings, high alliance was not a matter of choice but of necessity, without which they could not defend their lives, let alone their counties; and, to make Aucassins’ conduct absolutely treasonable, Beaucaire was at that time surrounded and besieged, and the Count, Aucassins’ father, stood in dire need of his son’s help.  Aucassins refused to stir unless he could have Nicolette.  What were honours to him if Nicolette were not to share them.  “S’ele estait empereris de Colstentinoble u d’Alemaigne u roine de France u d’Engletere, si aroit il asses peu en li, tant est france et cortoise et de bon aire et entecie de toutes bones teces.”  To be empress of “Colstentinoble” would be none too good for her, so stamped is she with nobility and courtesy and high-breeding and all good qualities.

So the Count, after a long struggle, sent for his Viscount and threatened to have Nicolette burned alive, and the Viscount himself treated no better, if he did not put a stop to the affair; and the Viscount shut up Nicolette, and remonstrated with Aucassins:  “Marry a king’s daughter, or a count’s! leave Nicolette alone, or you will never see Paradise!” This at once gave Aucassins the excuse for a charming tirade against Paradise, for which, a century or two later, he would properly have been burned together with Nicolette:—­

En paradis qu’ai je a faire?  Je n’i quier entrer mais que j’aie Nicolete, ma tres douce amie, que j’aim tant.  C’en paradis ne vont fors tex gens con je vous dirai.  Il i vont ci viel prestre et cil vieil clop et cil manke, qui tote jour et tote nuit cropent devant ces autex et en ces vies cruutes, et ci a ces vies capes ereses et a ces vies tatereles vestues, qui sont nu et decauc et estrumele, qui moeurent de faim et d’esci et de froid et de mesaises.  Icil vont en paradis; aveuc ciax n’ai jou que faire; mais en infer voil jou aler.  Car en infer vont li bel clerc et li bel cevalier qui sont mort as tornois et as rices gueres, et li bien sergant et li franc home.  Aveuc ciax voil jou aler.  Et si vont les beles dames cortoises que eles ont ii amis ou iii avec leurs barons.  Et si va li ors et li agens et li vairs et li gris; et si i vont herpeor et jogleor et li roi del siecle.  Avec ciax voil jou aler mais que j’aie Nicolete, ma tres douce amie, aveuc moi.