章节正文
Prince, 'tis a melancholy lay!
For Youth, for Life we both regret:
How fair they seem; how far away,
With Aucassin and Nicolete.
A. L.
BALLADE OF NICOLETE
All bathed in pearl and amber light
She rose to fling the lattice wide,
And leaned into the fragrant night,
Where brown birds sang of summertide;
('Twas Love's own voice that called and cried)
"Ah, Sweet!" she said, "I'll seek thee yet,
Though thorniest pathways should betide
The fair white feet of Nicolete."
They slept, who would have stayed her flight;
(Full fain were they the maid had died!)
She dropped adown her prison's height
On strands of linen featly tied.
And so she passed the garden-side
With loose-leaved roses sweetly set,
And dainty daisies, dark beside
The fair white feet of Nicolete!
Her lover lay in evil plight
(So many lovers yet abide!)
I would my tongue could praise aright
Her name, that should be glorified.
Those lovers now, whom foes divide
A little weep,--and soon forget.
How far from these faint lovers glide
The fair white feet of Nicolete.
ENVOY.
My Princess, doff thy frozen pride,
Nor scorn to pay Love's golden debt,
Through his dim woodland take for guide
The fair white feet of Nicolete.
GRAHAM R. TOMSON
THE SONG-STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE
'Tis of Aucassin and Nicolete.
Who would list to the good lay
Gladness of the captive grey?
'Tis how two young lovers met,
Aucassin and Nicolete,
Of the pains the lover bore
And the sorrows he outwore,
For the goodness and the grace,
Of his love, so fair of face.
Sweet the song, the story sweet,
There is no man hearkens it,
No man living 'neath the sun,
So outwearied, so foredone,
Sick and woful, worn and sad,
But is healed, but is glad
'Tis so sweet.
So say they, speak they, tell they the Tale:
How the Count Bougars de Valence made war on Count Garin de
Biaucaire, war so great, and so marvellous, and so mortal that never
a day dawned but alway he was there, by the gates and walls, and
barriers of the town with a hundred knights, and ten thousand men at
arms, horsemen and footmen: so burned he the Count's land, and
spoiled his country, and slew his men. Now the Count Garin de
Biaucaire was old and frail, and his good days were gone over. No
heir had he, neither son nor daughter, save one young man only; such
an one as I shall tell you. Aucassin was the name of the damoiseau:
fair was he, goodly, and great, and featly fashioned of his body,
and limbs. His hair was yellow, in little curls, his eyes blue and
laughing, his face beautiful and shapely, his nose high and well
set, and so richly seen was he in all things good, that in him was
none evil at all. But so suddenly overtaken was he of Love, who is
a great master, that he would not, of his will, be dubbed knight,
nor take arms, nor follow tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed.
Therefore his father and mother said to him;
"Son, go take thine arms, mount thy horse, and hold thy land, and
help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will
they keep in battle their lives, and lands, and thine, and mine."
"Father," said Aucassin, "I marvel that you will be speaking. Never
may God give me aught of my desire if I be made knight, or mount my
horse, or face stour and battle herein" target="_blank" title="ad.那里面">whereinknights smite and are
smitten again, unless thou give me Nicolete, my true love, that I
love so well."
"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolete go, a slave
girl she is, out of a strange land, and the captain of this town
bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath reared
her and let christen the maid, and took her for his daughter in God,
and one day will find a young man for her, to win her bread
honourably. Herein hast thou naught to make or mend, but if a wife
thou wilt have, I will give thee the daughter of a King, or a Count.
There is no man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter,
thou shalt have her."
"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so
high in all the world, that Nicolete, my sweet lady and love, would
not grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of
Germany, or Queen of France or England, it were little enough for
her; so gentle is she and courteous, and debonaire, and compact of
all good qualities."
Here singeth one:
Aucassin was of Biaucaire
Of a goodly castle there,
But from Nicolete the fair
None might win his heart away
Though his father, many a day,
And his mother said him nay,
"Ha! fond child, what wouldest thou?
Nicolete is glad enow!
Was from Carthage cast away,
Paynims sold her on a day!
Wouldst thou win a lady fair
Choose a maid of high degree
Such an one is meet for thee."
"Nay of these I have no care,
Nicolete is debonaire,
Her body sweet and the face of her
Take my heart as in a snare,
Loyal love is but her share
That is so sweet."
Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
When the Count Garin de Biaucaire knew that he would avail not to
withdraw Aucassin his son from the love of Nicolete, he went to the
Captain of the city, who was his man, and spake to him, saying:
"Sir Count; away with Nicolete thy daughter in God; cursed be the
land whence she was brought into this country, for by reason of her
do I lose Aucassin, that will neither be dubbed knight, nor do aught
of the things that fall to him to be done. And wit ye well," he
said, "that if I might have her at my will, I would burn her in a
fire, and yourself might well be sore adread."
"Sir," said the Captain, "this is grievous to me that he comes and
goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maiden at mine own
charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my daughter
in God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that should win
her bread honourably. With this had Aucassin thy son naught to make
or mend. But, sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I will send her
into that land and that country where never will he see her with his
eyes."
"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin, "thence might great
evil come on thee."
So parted they each from other. Now the Captain was a right rich
man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an
upper chamber thereof he let place Nicolete, with one old woman to
keep her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine
and such things as were needful. Then he let seal the door, that
none might come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over
against the garden, and strait enough, where through came to them a
little air.
Here singeth one:
Nicolete as ye heard tell
Prisoned is within a cell
That is painted wondrously
With colours of a far countrie,
And the window of marble wrought,
There the maiden stood in thought,
With straight brows and yellow hair
Never saw ye fairer fair!
On the wood she gazed below,
And she saw the roses blow,
Heard the birds sing loud and low,
Therefore spoke she wofully:
"Ah me, wherefore do I lie
Here in prison wrongfully:
Aucassin, my love, my knight,
Am I not thy heart's delight,
Thou that lovest me aright!
'Tis for thee that I must dwell
In the vaulted chamber cell,
Hard beset and all alone!
By our Lady Mary's Son
Here no longer will I wonn,
If I may flee!
Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
Nicolete was in prison, as ye have heard soothly, in the chamber.
And the noise and bruit of it went through all the country and all
the land, how that Nicolete was lost. Some said she had fled the
country, and some that the Count Garin de Biaucaire had let slay
her. Whosoever had joy thereof, Aucassin had none, so he went to
the Captain of the town and spoke to him, saying:
"Sir Captain, what hast thou made of Nicolete, my sweet lady and
love, the thing that best I love in all the world? Hast thou
carried her off or ravished her away from me? Know well that if I
die of it, the price shall be demanded of thee, and that will be
well done, for it shall be even as if thou hadst slain me with thy
two hands, for thou hast taken from me the thing that in this world
I loved the best."
"Fair Sir," said the Captain, "let these things be. Nicolete is a
captive that I did bring from a strange country. Yea, I bought her
at my own charges of the Saracens, and I bred her up and baptized
her, and made her my daughter in God. And I have cherished her, and
one of these days I would have given her a young man, to win her
bread honourably. With this hast thou naught to make, but do thou
take the daughter of a King or a Count. Nay more, what wouldst thou
deem thee to have gained, hadst thou made her thy leman, and taken
her to thy bed? Plentiful lack of comfort hadst thou got thereby,
for in Hell would thy soul have lain while the world endures, and
into Paradise wouldst thou have entered never."
"In Paradise what have I to win? Therein I seek not to enter, but
only to have Nicolete, my sweet lady that I love so well. For into
Paradise go none but such folk as I shall tell thee now: Thither go
these same old priests, and halt old men and maimed, who all day and
night cower continually before the altars, and in the crypts; and
such folk as wear old amices and old clouted frocks, and naked folk
and shoeless, and covered with sores, perishing of hunger and
thirst, and of cold, and of little ease. These be they that go into
Paradise, with them have I naught to make. But into Hell would I
fain go; for into Hell fare the goodly clerks, and goodlyknights
For Youth, for Life we both regret:
How fair they seem; how far away,
With Aucassin and Nicolete.
A. L.
BALLADE OF NICOLETE
All bathed in pearl and amber light
She rose to fling the lattice wide,
And leaned into the fragrant night,
Where brown birds sang of summertide;
('Twas Love's own voice that called and cried)
"Ah, Sweet!" she said, "I'll seek thee yet,
Though thorniest pathways should betide
The fair white feet of Nicolete."
They slept, who would have stayed her flight;
(Full fain were they the maid had died!)
She dropped adown her prison's height
On strands of linen featly tied.
And so she passed the garden-side
With loose-leaved roses sweetly set,
And dainty daisies, dark beside
The fair white feet of Nicolete!
Her lover lay in evil plight
(So many lovers yet abide!)
I would my tongue could praise aright
Her name, that should be glorified.
Those lovers now, whom foes divide
A little weep,--and soon forget.
How far from these faint lovers glide
The fair white feet of Nicolete.
ENVOY.
My Princess, doff thy frozen pride,
Nor scorn to pay Love's golden debt,
Through his dim woodland take for guide
The fair white feet of Nicolete.
GRAHAM R. TOMSON
THE SONG-STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE
'Tis of Aucassin and Nicolete.
Who would list to the good lay
Gladness of the captive grey?
'Tis how two young lovers met,
Aucassin and Nicolete,
Of the pains the lover bore
And the sorrows he outwore,
For the goodness and the grace,
Of his love, so fair of face.
Sweet the song, the story sweet,
There is no man hearkens it,
No man living 'neath the sun,
So outwearied, so foredone,
Sick and woful, worn and sad,
But is healed, but is glad
'Tis so sweet.
So say they, speak they, tell they the Tale:
How the Count Bougars de Valence made war on Count Garin de
Biaucaire, war so great, and so marvellous, and so mortal that never
a day dawned but alway he was there, by the gates and walls, and
barriers of the town with a hundred knights, and ten thousand men at
arms, horsemen and footmen: so burned he the Count's land, and
spoiled his country, and slew his men. Now the Count Garin de
Biaucaire was old and frail, and his good days were gone over. No
heir had he, neither son nor daughter, save one young man only; such
an one as I shall tell you. Aucassin was the name of the damoiseau:
fair was he, goodly, and great, and featly fashioned of his body,
and limbs. His hair was yellow, in little curls, his eyes blue and
laughing, his face beautiful and shapely, his nose high and well
set, and so richly seen was he in all things good, that in him was
none evil at all. But so suddenly overtaken was he of Love, who is
a great master, that he would not, of his will, be dubbed knight,
nor take arms, nor follow tourneys, nor do whatsoever him beseemed.
Therefore his father and mother said to him;
"Son, go take thine arms, mount thy horse, and hold thy land, and
help thy men, for if they see thee among them, more stoutly will
they keep in battle their lives, and lands, and thine, and mine."
"Father," said Aucassin, "I marvel that you will be speaking. Never
may God give me aught of my desire if I be made knight, or mount my
horse, or face stour and battle herein" target="_blank" title="ad.那里面">whereinknights smite and are
smitten again, unless thou give me Nicolete, my true love, that I
love so well."
"Son," said the father, "this may not be. Let Nicolete go, a slave
girl she is, out of a strange land, and the captain of this town
bought her of the Saracens, and carried her hither, and hath reared
her and let christen the maid, and took her for his daughter in God,
and one day will find a young man for her, to win her bread
honourably. Herein hast thou naught to make or mend, but if a wife
thou wilt have, I will give thee the daughter of a King, or a Count.
There is no man so rich in France, but if thou desire his daughter,
thou shalt have her."
"Faith! my father," said Aucassin, "tell me where is the place so
high in all the world, that Nicolete, my sweet lady and love, would
not grace it well? If she were Empress of Constantinople or of
Germany, or Queen of France or England, it were little enough for
her; so gentle is she and courteous, and debonaire, and compact of
all good qualities."
Here singeth one:
Aucassin was of Biaucaire
Of a goodly castle there,
But from Nicolete the fair
None might win his heart away
Though his father, many a day,
And his mother said him nay,
"Ha! fond child, what wouldest thou?
Nicolete is glad enow!
Was from Carthage cast away,
Paynims sold her on a day!
Wouldst thou win a lady fair
Choose a maid of high degree
Such an one is meet for thee."
"Nay of these I have no care,
Nicolete is debonaire,
Her body sweet and the face of her
Take my heart as in a snare,
Loyal love is but her share
That is so sweet."
Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
When the Count Garin de Biaucaire knew that he would avail not to
withdraw Aucassin his son from the love of Nicolete, he went to the
Captain of the city, who was his man, and spake to him, saying:
"Sir Count; away with Nicolete thy daughter in God; cursed be the
land whence she was brought into this country, for by reason of her
do I lose Aucassin, that will neither be dubbed knight, nor do aught
of the things that fall to him to be done. And wit ye well," he
said, "that if I might have her at my will, I would burn her in a
fire, and yourself might well be sore adread."
"Sir," said the Captain, "this is grievous to me that he comes and
goes and hath speech with her. I had bought the maiden at mine own
charges, and nourished her, and baptized, and made her my daughter
in God. Yea, I would have given her to a young man that should win
her bread honourably. With this had Aucassin thy son naught to make
or mend. But, sith it is thy will and thy pleasure, I will send her
into that land and that country where never will he see her with his
eyes."
"Have a heed to thyself," said the Count Garin, "thence might great
evil come on thee."
So parted they each from other. Now the Captain was a right rich
man: so had he a rich palace with a garden in face of it; in an
upper chamber thereof he let place Nicolete, with one old woman to
keep her company, and in that chamber put bread and meat and wine
and such things as were needful. Then he let seal the door, that
none might come in or go forth, save that there was one window, over
against the garden, and strait enough, where through came to them a
little air.
Here singeth one:
Nicolete as ye heard tell
Prisoned is within a cell
That is painted wondrously
With colours of a far countrie,
And the window of marble wrought,
There the maiden stood in thought,
With straight brows and yellow hair
Never saw ye fairer fair!
On the wood she gazed below,
And she saw the roses blow,
Heard the birds sing loud and low,
Therefore spoke she wofully:
"Ah me, wherefore do I lie
Here in prison wrongfully:
Aucassin, my love, my knight,
Am I not thy heart's delight,
Thou that lovest me aright!
'Tis for thee that I must dwell
In the vaulted chamber cell,
Hard beset and all alone!
By our Lady Mary's Son
Here no longer will I wonn,
If I may flee!
Then speak they, say they, tell they the Tale:
Nicolete was in prison, as ye have heard soothly, in the chamber.
And the noise and bruit of it went through all the country and all
the land, how that Nicolete was lost. Some said she had fled the
country, and some that the Count Garin de Biaucaire had let slay
her. Whosoever had joy thereof, Aucassin had none, so he went to
the Captain of the town and spoke to him, saying:
"Sir Captain, what hast thou made of Nicolete, my sweet lady and
love, the thing that best I love in all the world? Hast thou
carried her off or ravished her away from me? Know well that if I
die of it, the price shall be demanded of thee, and that will be
well done, for it shall be even as if thou hadst slain me with thy
two hands, for thou hast taken from me the thing that in this world
I loved the best."
"Fair Sir," said the Captain, "let these things be. Nicolete is a
captive that I did bring from a strange country. Yea, I bought her
at my own charges of the Saracens, and I bred her up and baptized
her, and made her my daughter in God. And I have cherished her, and
one of these days I would have given her a young man, to win her
bread honourably. With this hast thou naught to make, but do thou
take the daughter of a King or a Count. Nay more, what wouldst thou
deem thee to have gained, hadst thou made her thy leman, and taken
her to thy bed? Plentiful lack of comfort hadst thou got thereby,
for in Hell would thy soul have lain while the world endures, and
into Paradise wouldst thou have entered never."
"In Paradise what have I to win? Therein I seek not to enter, but
only to have Nicolete, my sweet lady that I love so well. For into
Paradise go none but such folk as I shall tell thee now: Thither go
these same old priests, and halt old men and maimed, who all day and
night cower continually before the altars, and in the crypts; and
such folk as wear old amices and old clouted frocks, and naked folk
and shoeless, and covered with sores, perishing of hunger and
thirst, and of cold, and of little ease. These be they that go into
Paradise, with them have I naught to make. But into Hell would I
fain go; for into Hell fare the goodly clerks, and goodlyknights
- prince [´prins]
n.王子；亲王；君主 (初中英语单词) - princess [,prin´ses] n.公主；王妃；亲王夫人 (初中英语单词)
- frozen [´frəuzn] freeze 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- captive [´kæptiv] n.俘虏；捕获物 (初中英语单词)
- goodness [´gudnis] n.优良；美德；精华 (初中英语单词)
- marvel [´mɑ:vəl] n.令人惊异的事；奇迹 (初中英语单词)
- hither [´hiðə] ad.到此处 (初中英语单词)
- maiden [´meidn] n.少女 a.未婚的 (初中英语单词)
- marble [´mɑ:bəl] n.大理石 a.大理石的 (初中英语单词)
- paradise [´pærədais] n.天堂；乐园 (初中英语单词)
- thither [´ðiðə] ad.到那里 a.那边的 (初中英语单词)
- hunger [´hʌŋgə] n.饥饿；渴望 (初中英语单词)
- melancholy [´melənkəli] n.忧郁 a.忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- fragrant [´freigrənt] a.芳香的，芬芳的 (高中英语单词)
- sweetly [´swi:tli] ad.甜蜜地；美妙地 (高中英语单词)
- dainty [´deinti] a.秀丽的 n.美味 (高中英语单词)
- woodland [´wudlənd] n.树林，林地 (高中英语单词)
- mortal [´mɔ:tl] a.致命的 n.凡人 (高中英语单词)
- goodly [´gudli] a.适意的；漂亮的 (高中英语单词)
- knight [nait] n.骑士；爵士 (高中英语单词)
- wherein [weər´in] ad.那里面 (高中英语单词)
- naught [nɔ:t] n.无；零 (高中英语单词)
- constantinople [,kɔnstænti´nəupl] n.君士坦丁堡 (高中英语单词)
- courteous [´kə:tiəs] a.有礼貌的；殷勤的 (高中英语单词)
- compact [´kɔmpækt] n.契约 a.挤满的 (高中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- strait [streit] n.海峡 (高中英语单词)
- plentiful [´plentifəl] a.丰富的；多的 (高中英语单词)
- therein [ðeə´rin] ad.在那里，在其中 (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- richly [´ritʃli] ad.富裕地；浓厚地 (英语四级单词)
- whatsoever [,wɔtsəu´evə] (强势语)=whatever (英语四级单词)
- empress [´empris] n.女皇；皇后 (英语四级单词)
- whence [wens] ad.从何处；从那里 (英语四级单词)
- grievous [´gri:vəs] a.痛苦的；严重的 (英语四级单词)
- wherefore [´weəfɔ:] ad.为什么；因此 (英语四级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- christen [´krisən] vt.为...施洗礼 (英语六级单词)
- herein [,hiər´in] ad.在此，鉴于 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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