the birds.

"Shall I sing you a new song, sire?" said Nicolette.

"Yes, fair friend," said Aucassin; "if it be a merry one, for I am very
sad."

"If you like it," said Nicolette, "you will find it merry enough."

She drew the bow across her viol, and made sweet music, and then she
sung:

Once a lover met a maid
Wandering in a forest glade,
Where she had a pretty house
Framed with flowers and leafy boughs.
Maid and lover merrily
Sailed away across the sea,
To a castle by the strand
Of a strange and pleasant land.
There they lived in great delight
Till the Saracens by night
Stormed the keep, and took the maid,
With the captives of their raid.
Back to Carthage they returned,
And the maiden sadly mourned.
But they did not make of her
Paramour or prisoner.
For the King of Carthage said,
When he saw the fair young maid: