"Sir, trouble not thyself so much withal. For in a little while shall I have brought her into this city, and ye shall see her."

When Auca.s.sin heard that, he was right glad thereof. And she departed from him, and went into the city to the house of the Captain's wife, for the Captain her father in G.o.d was dead. So she dwelt there, and told all her tale; and the Captain's wife knew her, and knew well that she was Nicolete that she herself had nourished. Then she let wash and bathe her, and there rested she eight full days. Then took she an herb that was named _Eyebright_ and anointed herself therewith, and was as fair as ever she had been all the days of her life. Then she clothed herself in rich robes of silk whereof the lady had great store, and then sat herself in the chamber on a silken coverlet, and called the lady and bade her go and bring Auca.s.sin her love, and she did even so. And when she came to the Palace she found Auca.s.sin weeping, and making lament for Nicolete his love, for that she delayed so long. And the lady spake unto him and said:

"Auca.s.sin, sorrow no more, but come thou on with me, and I will shew thee the thing in the world that thou lovest best; even Nicolete thy dear love, who from far lands hath come to seek of thee." And Auca.s.sin was right glad.

_Here singeth one_:

When Auca.s.sin heareth now That his lady bright of brow Dwelleth in his own countrie, Never man was glad as he.

To her castle doth he hie With the lady speedily, Pa.s.seth to the chamber high, Findeth Nicolete thereby.

Of her true love found again Never maid was half so fain.

Straight she leaped upon her feet: When his love he saw at last, Arms about her did he cast, Kissed her often, kissed her sweet Kissed her lips and brows and eyes.

Thus all night do they devise, Even till the morning white.

Then Auca.s.sin wedded her, Made her Lady of Biaucaire.

Many years abode they there, Many years in shade or sun, In great gladness and delight Ne'er hath Auca.s.sin regret Nor his lady Nicolete.

Now my story all is done, Said and sung!

NOTES

"THE BLENDING"--of alternate prose and verse--"is not unknown in various countries." Thus in Dr. Steere's _Swahili Tales_ (London, 1870), p. vii.

we read: "It is a constant characteristic of popular native tales to have a sort of burden, which all join in singing. Frequently the skeleton of the story seems to be contained in these s.n.a.t.c.hes of singing, which the story-teller connects by an extemporized account of the intervening history . . . Almost all these stories had sung parts, and of some of these, even those who sung them could scarcely explain the meaning . . .

I have heard stories partly told, in which the verse parts were in the Yao and Nyamwezi languages." The examples given (_Sultan Majnun_) are only verses supposed to be chanted by the characters in the tale. It is improbable that the Yaos and Nyamwezis borrowed the custom of inserting verse into prose tales from Arab literature, where the intercalated verse is usually of a moral and reflective character.

Mr. Jamieson, in _Ill.u.s.trations of Northern Antiquities_ (p. 379), preserved a _cante-fable_ called _Rosmer Halfman_, or _The Merman Rosmer_. Mr. Motherwell remarks (_Minstrelsy_, Glasgow, 1827, p. xv.): "Thus I have heard the ancient ballad of _Young Beichan and Susy Pye_ dilated by a story-teller into a tale of remarkable dimensions--a paragraph of prose and then a _screed_ of rhyme alternately given." The example published by Mr. Motherwell gives us the very form _of Auca.s.sin and Nicolete_, surviving in Scotch folk lore:-

"Well ye must know that in the Moor's Castle, there was a mafsymore, which is a dark deep dungeon for keeping prisoners. It was twenty feet below the ground, and into this hole they closed poor Beichan. There he stood, night and day, up to his waist in puddle-water; but night or day it was all one to him, for no ae styme of light ever got in. So he lay there a lang and weary while, and thinking on his heavy weird, he made a murnfu' sang to pa.s.s the time--and this was the sang that he made, and grat when he sang it, for he never thought of escaping from the mafsymore, or of seeing his ain countrie again:

"My hounds they all run masterless, My hawks they flee from tree to tree; My youngest brother will heir my lands, And fair England again I'll never see.

"O were I free as I hae been, And my ship swimming once more on sea, I'd turn my face to fair England, And sail no more to a strange countrie."

"Now the cruel Moor had a beautiful daughter called Susy Pye, who was accustomed to take a walk every morning in her garden, and as she was walking ae day she heard the sough o' Beichan's sang, coming as it were from below the ground."

All this is clearly a.n.a.logous in form no less than in matter to our _cante-fable_. Mr. Motherwell speaks of _fabliaux_, intended partly for recitation, and partly for being sung; but does not refer by name to _Auca.s.sin and Nicolete_. If we may judge by a.n.a.logy, then, the form of the _cante-fable_ is probably an early artistic adaptation of a popular narrative method.

STOUR; an ungainly word enough, familiar in Scotch with the sense of wind- driven dust, it may be dust of battle. The French is _Estor_.

BIAUCAIRE, opposite Tarascon, also celebrated for its local hero, the deathless Tartarin. There is a great deal of learning about Biaucaire; probably the author of the _cante-fable_ never saw the place, but he need not have thought it was on the sea-sh.o.r.e, as (p. 39) he seems to do.

There he makes the people of Beaucaire set out to wreck a ship. Ships do not go up the Rhone, and get wrecked there, after escaping the perils of the deep.

On p. 42, the poet clearly thinks that Nicolete, after landing from her barque, had to travel a considerable distance before reaching Biaucaire.

The fact is that the poet is perfectly reckless of geography, like him who wrote of the set-sh.o.r.e of Bohemia.

PAINTED WONDROUSLY. No one knows what is really meant by a _miramie_.

PLENTIFUL LACK OF COMFORT: rather freely for _Mout i aries peu conquis_.

MALENGIN: a favourite word of Sir Thomas Malory: "mischievous intent."

FEATS OF YOUTH: ENFANCES, the regular term for the romance of a knight's early prowess.

TWO APPLES; nois gauges in the original. But _walnuts_ sound inadequate.

Here the MS. has a _lacuna_.

There is much useless learning about the realm of _Torelore_. It is somewhere between Kor and Laputa. The custom of the _Couvade_ was dimly known to the poet. The feigned lying-in of the father may have been either a recognition of paternity (as in the sham birth whereby Hera adopted Heracles) or may have been caused by the belief that the health of the father at the time of the child's birth affected that of the child. Either origin of the _Couvade_ is consistent with early beliefs and customs.

EYEBRIGHT. This is a purely fanciful rendering of _Esclaire_.

Footnotes:

{1} Gaston Paris, in M. Bida's edition, p. xii. Paris, 1878. The blending is not unknown in various countries. See note at end of Translation.

{2} I know not if I unconsciously transferred this criticism from M.

Gaston Paris.

{3} "Love in Idleness." London, 1883, p. 169.

{4} Theocritus, x. 37.

{5} I have not thought it necessary to discuss the conjectures,--they are no more,--about the Greek or Arabic origin of the cante-fable, about the derivation of Auca.s.sin's name, the supposed copying of _Floire et Blancheflor_, the longitude and lat.i.tude of the land of Torelore, and so forth. In truth "we are in Love's land to-day," where the ships sail without wind or compa.s.s, like the barques of the Phaeacians. Brunner and Suchier add nothing positive to our knowledge, and M. Gaston Paris pretends to cast but little light on questions which it is too curious to consider at all. In revising the translation I have used with profit the versions of M. Bida, of Mr. Bourdillon, the glossary of Suchier, and Mr.

Bourdillon's glossary. As for the style I have attempted, if not Old English, at least English which is elderly, with a memory of Malory.