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

Aucassin was armed and mounted as ye have heard tell. God! how goodly
sat the shield on his shoulder, the helm on his head, and the baldric on
his left haunch! And the damoiseau was tall, fair, featly fashioned, and
hardy of his hands, and the horse whereon he rode swift and keen, and
straight had he spurred him forth of the gate. Now believe ye not that
his mind was on kine, nor cattle of the booty, nor thought he how he
might strike a knight, nor be stricken again: nor no such thing. Nay, no
memory had Aucassin of aught of these; rather he so dreamed of Nicolete,
his sweet lady, that he dropped his reins, forgetting all there was to
do, and his horse that had felt the spur, bore him into the press and
hurled among the foe, and they laid hands on him all about, and took him
captive, and seized away his spear and shield, and straightway they led
him off a prisoner, and were even now discoursing of what death he should
die.

And when Aucassin heard them,

"Ha! God," said he, "sweet Saviour. Be these my deadly enemies that have
taken me, and will soon cut off my head? And once my head is off, no
more shall I speak with Nicolete, my sweet lady, that I love so well.
Natheless have I here a good sword, and sit a good horse unwearied. If
now I keep not my head for her sake, God help her never, if she love me
more!"

The damoiseau was tall and strong, and the horse whereon he sat was right
eager. And he laid hand to sword, and fell a-smiting to right and left,
and smote through helm and _nasal_, and arm and clenched hand, making a
murder about him, like a wild boar when hounds fall on him in the forest,