Stories of Charlemagne and the twelve Peers of France

CHAPTER XXI

OF GUY OF BURGUNDY

The Frenchmen, being now safe in the Tower, refreshed themselves with food, for they had fasted long, as has been told. As they sat at meat, came Floripas and said to them, "Tell me now; where is Guy of Burgundy, that was to be my husband? I saw him sally forth out of the gates with you; has he returned with you?" Roland answered her: "Floripas, think not that you will see him again. The pagans took him out of our hands, notwithstanding all that we could do; and how he will fare in their hands we know not." When Floripas heard these words, she fell down as one dead. When she came to herself she cried aloud with a lamentable voice: "Lords of France, if Guy be not given back to me I will give up this Tower to my father before two days are over." Then Roland comforted her saying, "Be not troubled, lady, you shall see Sir Guy again in no long time. This also I say. You will not bring him back by weeping and lamenting. Be strong now, and take comfort, and also, for you are weak with long fasting, eat of this food." Then Floripas and her ladies were content, and took something to eat.

Meantime Guy was brought before the Admiral. He was much changed in face, being pale and wasted, seeing that he had not eaten for three days. Also he was troubled to think of the danger in which he stood. He had been spoiled also of his arms. For all this it was manifest that he was a very gallant knight. Balan asked him his name and country. Guy answered: "Admiral, I will tell the truth without fear. I am Guy of Burgundy, subject to King Charles, and cousin to Roland the Valiant."

The Admiral answered, "I know you over well, Sir Guy. For seven months past my daughter has had great love for you, a thing which is most displeasing to me. Verily for this cause I have lost many good men, that you and your companions have slain. But tell me truly who are these knights that were with you in the Castle?" Then Guy told him the names of the knights, the last of all being the name of Duke Basyn. "Him," said he, "you have slain, but be assured that you will pay right dearly for his death." When he said these words, a Saracen that stood by smote him on the mouth so that the blood gushed out. Thereat Guy was greatly moved with anger, so that he lay hold of the Saracen by the hair with one hand and with the other hand smote him upon the bone of his neck so fiercely that the man fell down dead before the Admiral.

At this deed the Admiral was greatly enraged, and cried out that Guy should be closely bound. At which word all the Saracens that were in the chamber fell upon him and beat him so sorely that he would have been shortly slain, but that the Admiral himself cried out that he was not to be put to death in such a fashion. Then the Saracens bound his hands, and the Admiral bade his men fetch Brullant and Sortibrant and others of his council. "Friends," said the Admiral, "advise me what I shall do with this prisoner who sets me at nought most shamefully." Sortibrant said, "I will give you good counsel concerning him. Set up a gallows-tree near to the moat of the Tower in which the French knights abide, and make as if you were going to hang this prisoner. But first cause that a thousand Turks well armed and fit for battle be hidden in a secret place near to the said tree. Be sure that the Frenchmen, when they shall see that their comrade is about to be hanged will come forth to succour him, and when they be come, then shall your Turks that are in ambush fall on them and take them."

This counsel pleased the Admiral much. He caused, therefore, the gallows-tree to be set up, as Sortibrant had advised, and set the Turks in ambush, more than a thousand, that the thing might be made more sure. After this he bade thirty Saracens lead Guy to the tree, beating him sorely with their staves the while. His hands were bound behind his back, and there was a great rope about his neck, and he knew himself to be in evil case. He did not cease to commend himself to God; also he cried out to the Barons of France, and especially to Roland, that they should help him.

Now Roland stood at a window whence he could see the gallows-tree set up. And he said to his comrades, "What means, think you, this gallows-tree that these Saracens are setting up?" Then the others looked, and the Duke Naymes said, "Without doubt they are about to hang our comrade Guy of Burgundy." He had scarcely spoken when they saw Guy led by the Saracens, bound and stripped. Floripas also saw this thing, and cried to the Knights, "Oh, my lords, will you suffer Guy that is your comrade to be thus shamefully done to death before your eyes? If he perish in this fashion I will leap from this window and so die." And she came to Roland and kneeled before him, and kissed his feet, and cried to him, "O, Sir, help this Guy whom I love, or else I am a lost woman. Arm yourselves, I pray you, and I will cause your horses to be made ready, so, if God pleases, you will be in good time." Then Roland and his fellows armed themselves in great haste, and went forth from the Tower, and mounted their horses. And Roland said to them, "Let us now keep together as much as may be, and be ready to help each other as each may be in need, for otherwise we shall hardly win back to this place, for we are but ten in number, and they are many."

Floripas said, "My lords, I pray you not to tarry, but first I will bring you the Crown of Thorns." So she went to her chamber and brought therefrom the Holy Crown. This all the knights kissed with much reverence, and so issued forth from the Tower with a good courage. When they were gone, Floripas and her damsel lifted the bridge and shut fast the gates of the Tower.

The Frenchmen rode in good order towards the place where, the gallows-tree was set up, the Saracens being busied with Guy whom they had now brought thereto, with the rope round his neck. When Roland saw this, he cried out, "Hold, traitors; this thing shall not fall out as you hope. You have begun a deed of which you shall surely repent." Thereupon he charged at them with such fierceness that the hardiest of them turned to fly; yet they fled not so fast but that Roland killed twenty out of the thirty. When the Saracens that lay in ambush saw this, they rose up from the place where they lay hid, a certain Conifer, a pagan of marvellous strength, being their leader. This Conifer cried out, "Ho, ye French knaves, come you to succour this malefactor? Verily you shall be hanged along with him." Roland was very wroth to hear such villainous words, and charged fierce as a hungry wolf, with his sword Durendal drawn in his hand. Nor did Conifer for his part draw back, for he was a great warrior. He dealt a great blow on Roland's shield that went nigh to beat it down. Nevertheless Roland slew him, cleaving his head in twain. This done he ran to the gallows and cut the cords with which Guy was bound, and afterwards stood by him till he had armed himself. This he did, taking the dead pagan's arms and mounting on his horse. But this was not easily done, for all the Saracens that had lain in ambush were coming upon them, and they were sore pressed.

But Guy wrought marvels of valour, as one who having narrowly escaped from death, fought with great cheerfulness of heart. Floripas also, who stood at a window of the Tower, saw him, and cried out to him that he should bear himself as a man. When Ogier the Dane heard this, he said to his comrades, "Hark to this noble damsel, how bravely she bears herself. We will not go back to the Tower till we have done all that was in our mind to do." Then they charged the Saracens yet again; Roland being still in the front, and driving the pagans before him, for they flew from him on all sides. Thence the Frenchmen made their way to the bridge and so again into the Tower.

When the Admiral perceived this, he was much troubled, and asked his counsellors again for advice. Sortibrant said to him, "Let every man that is here present make himself ready for battle and let all the siege engines be prepared, and all the trumpeters stand prepared to blow a great blast on their trumpets. The Frenchmen are but few, and when they shall be aware of this great multitude they will be overcome with fear." To him Brullant answered: "My friend, this that you say is but folly. You will not frighten these Frenchmen in this fashion, no, not though we had all the horns and trumpets in the world. Is not Roland there, the mightiest knight that now lives, who slays any man that dares to join in battle with him? They are all great warriors, but Roland is of such greatness that if the rest were his match they would drive the Saracens out of Spain. There is no man that could stand against them, and as for our gods, it is long since they have given us any help." The Admiral was very angry to hear such talk and would have struck Brullant with his staff, but Sortibrant held both his arms, "Let be your anger; we should do better to take counsel together how we may break down this Tower that the Christians hold."

Then the Admiral gathered all his men together, so many in number that they covered the ground a mile every way. But of more avail than all these multitudes was a certain magician, by name Mahon. He had two siege-engines of marvellous power, which were so contrived that they who worked them could not be hurt by the enemy.

Thus did the Saracens gain possession of the first defences of the Tower; yet having won them, they could not long hold them, for the French knights did their part right bravely, hurling down from the upper parts stones and darts, and all kinds of missiles, and these so strongly that no man could stand against them. The maidens also armed themselves, and did the like.

But the magician had yet other devices to use against the Christians. He said to the Admiral, "Let me have some of your men to wait on me, and I will speedily deliver these Christians into your hand." And when he had made all things ready, he discharged out of his engines against the walls a fire so marvellous that the very stones began to burn. The Frenchmen were sorely dismayed at this, and began to say to each other that they must now surely quit the Tower. But Floripas said to them, "My lords, be not afraid. I have something wherewith to quench the fire." Then she went and took certain herbs, and mixed them in wine, and the knights threw the wine on the fire, and it was quenched immediately.

When the Admiral saw this he was out of his wits with anger, and when Sortibrant told him that this was of his daughter's doing, he vowed that she should die an evil death. Then said Sortibrant, "Bid your horns and trumpets sound again, and send your men to attack the Tower once more. By this time the Frenchmen must be so wearied that they will be overcome. And they have neither stones nor iron to cast at us." Thereupon the Saracens made yet another assault on the Tower; so fierce was it that the air was as it were dark with arrows and darts and stones, great portions of the walls fell down, and the knights were greatly troubled. "Now," said they, "we must needs be vanquished, for our defence is broken down." But Floripas bade them be of good courage. "My lords," said she, "this Tower is yet strong enough to hold out. Besides, though you have no more stone or iron, yet my father's treasure is here, wedges and plates of gold, wherewith you may slay the pagans as well as with stones, aye and better too." Thereupon Guy of Burgundy, in great joy, kissed her.

Then Floripas, going to the treasure-house, showed the gold to the knights. This they took and cast against the Saracens, to their great discomfiture. Moreover, the Saracens, when they saw the gold, left off fighting against the French, and began to slay each other. The Admiral, when he saw this, cried with a loud voice to his captains, "Cease now from the assault, for it turns to my great loss; see now how my treasure which I have gathered with much pains is scattered about. This treasure I had entrusted to the keeping of Mahomet my god, and see how he has failed me. Verily, if I could but have him in my hands, he should suffer pains for this!" Sortibrant said to him, "Be not angry, my lord, with Mahomet. He has done as well as it lay with him to do; doubtless he was asleep when your treasures were spoiled. These Frenchmen are so crafty that they can do what they will."

That same night, as the Admiral sat at his supper, Roland spied him from a window where he lay to rest himself. He said to his comrades, "I see Balan at his supper with his lords; he is taking his ease, and it would be to our great honour if we make him rise up from his meat." The other lords were of the same opinion. They armed themselves therefore, and issued forth from the Tower. But the Admiral was aware of their purpose, and he sent against them his nephew, Espoulart by name, who was a very strong and valiant knight. Espoulart rode against the Frenchmen, and encountering Roland smote him on the shield so great a blow that he was well-nigh stunned, but his flesh was not wounded. Roland, in his turn, unhorsed him, but the Saracen was so nimble that forthwith he mounted his horse again. But Roland smote him again, and so sharply that the man wist not where he was. As he was falling to the ground Roland caught him right deftly, and laid him across his horse and carried him away.

When the Admiral saw this he cried out in a great rage that they should rescue his nephew. This the Saracens would willingly have done, but they could not; many were hurt and many slain, and at last all the Frenchmen escaped into the Tower. When they had shut-to the gates they asked Floripas who he was that they had taken. Floripas said to them, "This is Balan's nephew, a rich man and a powerful. If ye would vex my father, put him to death." The Duke Naymes answered, "Nay, we will not put him to death. We will keep him, and if should happen that one of us be taken prisoner, we will make an exchange."

CHAPTER XXII

OF RICHARD OF NORMANDY

On a certain day after these things Richard of Normandy said to his fellows, "How long are we to abide shut up in this Tower? I am sure that at the last we must perish by the hands of these Saracens. It would be well, therefore, that we send a messenger to King Charles, telling him that if he would not have us perish he must send us help." The Duke Naymes said, "This, Sir Richard, is but foolishly spoken. There is no man here that will dare take this message. Know you not that the whole land is covered with the Saracens, so that as soon as the messenger is parted from us he will be slain by them?" And Floripas said, "My lords, you are safe while you abide in this place; make yourselves, therefore, as happy as you can." But Duke Thierry was ill-content with such counsel, "We are shut in here, my lords," said he, "and our happiness must be but brief. Let us inform the King of our condition, that he may come to our help."

Ogier the Dane answered as the Duke Naymes had answered, that there was no man who would go on such an errand. "Nay," cried Roland, "say not so. I will go." But the Duke Naymes answered, "That would be ill done, Sir Roland; you must not go hence; the Saracens would not have so much fear of us by a half as now they have if you were gone." Then others proffered to go, as William the Scot, and Gerard, and Guy of Burgundy, this last being willing with all his heart, but Floripas would not suffer it.

At last Richard of Normandy spake thus: "My lords, you know that I am nobly born, and that I have a son of full age to bear arms, and fit to stand in my place. Now if it should chance that I am slain in taking this message, this my son would hold my heritage and do service to King Charles." So it was concluded that Richard of Normandy should take the message to the King. Roland said to him, "Sir Richard, promise now that you will not tarry in any place till you come to the King, saving if you should be hurt or taken prisoner." And Duke Richard promised it should be so. Having so promised, he said, "Let us consider now how I may get away from this place unseen of the-men-at-arms, for if they espy me I cannot escape."

Roland said, "My counsel is this. Let us sally forth from the Tower, and assault the Saracens with all our might, and while they are busied with us then shall Duke Richard steal away, for he well knows the country." To this they all agreed, not without tears, for they knew that the Duke had taken upon himself a very perilous enterprise.

The next day, when this thing should have been done, the French lords found that the gates of the Tower were so closely beset by a multitude of Saracens that no man could by any means go forth. And this was so for the space of two whole months. At the end of this time, the Admiral having gone a-hunting, and the watch of the bridge being negligently kept, the knights mounted their horses and issued forth. So soon as they were seen of the Saracens, there was a great blowing of horns and trumpets, and a multitude of men ran together to do battle with the knights. While they were so engaged Duke Richard secretly departed. After the Duke had ridden awhile, the road being very steep, for it was on the side of a mountain, his horse was sorely spent, and he was constrained to halt. And as he halted two of the Saracens, to wit Sortibrant and Brullant, espied him, and said to King Clarion, who was a very notable warrior, "See you, Sire, that man yonder. Of a truth he is one of the Frenchmen that are shut up in the Tower yonder. Without a doubt he is taking a message to Charlemagne. Now, if we do not hinder him in this his journey it may well turn to our great loss." When King Clarion heard this he armed himself without delay, and mounted on his beast—a marvellous beast that could gallop thirty leagues and not grow weary—and pursued after Duke Richard, and other Saracens went with him.

When Duke Richard, looking behind him, saw the Saracens following him, he was greatly troubled, for what could one man do against so many? Nor was it long before the pursuers came up with him, King Clarion leading them. The King said, "By Mahomet, you shall never deliver this message." Duke Richard spoke him fair, "What trespass have I done? I have never offended you or taken your treasure. Suffer me, therefore, to go in peace. Render me this service, and be sure that I will repay it many fold." But Clarion answered, "I would not do this, no not for half the treasure of the world."

When he heard this, Duke Richard turned to meet the enemy. King Clarion smote him on the shield, but could not break it through, so stiff and strong was it. But the Duke, on the other hand, smote him full on the neck, and shore off his head cleanly with one blow. It flew a whole spear's length, so great was the stroke. Then the Duke, leaving his own horse, took King Clarion's for himself; never before had he ridden such a horse, so strong was it and so swift. He could have borne seven knights in armour, and never sweated a drop; as for swimming rivers, there never was beast like him. Then the Duke said to his own horse, "Farewell, my good horse; I am grieved that I cannot take thee when I will. God in heaven help thee to escape these Pagans, and come again into the hands of Christian men, whom thou mayst faithfully serve in great straits, even as thou hast served me." So saying he went on his way.

When the other Saracens came up and found King Clarion lying dead upon the ground they made great lamentation over him. Some would have taken Duke Richard's horse, but the beast would not suffer them to come near him but galloped as fast as he could to the place from which he had come. And, indeed, thither he came in a very short space of time. First the Admiral saw him, and cried aloud, "Now by Apollyon my god, this is well done of Clarion my nephew; without doubt he has slain the messenger of the Frenchmen, for see his horse is coming." And he bade his men catch the horse. But this they could not do, for the creature won its way to the gates of the Tower, and these the knights opened to receive him, lamenting much, for they had no doubt but that Duke Richard had been slain. Nevertheless, Floripas bade them be of good cheer. "Stay your tears," she said; "as yet you know not the whole matter."

Meanwhile the Saracens that had accompanied King Clarion came back, bearing with them the King's body. When the Admiral saw it he swooned, not once only but four times, so that he seemed like to a dead man. The Saracens stood about, and made a great lamentation, so that the Barons began to take heart again, and Floripas, being well acquainted with the Saracen tongue, said, "Now I perceive the truth. Duke Richard has slain this man and taken his horse, for indeed there is no better horse in all the world. This lamentation that you hear is for this ill fortune."

All the Barons were glad when they heard these words, and Oliver said to Roland, "Now this is good news. I am sure in my mind that we shall safely return home. I had not been more sure had I been in the strongest castle in all France. God bless Duke Richard, for he has borne himself right bravely." And all the other knights agreed to his speech.

Meanwhile the Admiral called to him one of his favourites, by name Orage, saying to him, "Now take a dromedary and ride with all speed to Gallafer that keeps the Bridge of Mantryble, and say to him from me, 'You suffered the messengers of King Charles to pass over, whereby I have suffered great damage. And now there goes a messenger to the King from the knights that are shut up in this Tower; wherein if you fail, you shall pay for it with your life.'" Orage said to the Admiral, "I will do your bidding with all speed, for I can take in one day such a journey as other men take in four." And he departed forthwith on his dromedary.

When he came to the Bridge Mantryble, he said to Gallafer, "The Admiral is ill content with you, because you suffered the messengers of King Charles to cross the bridge. They have done him great damage, holding his chief Tower, and therein his gods and Floripas his daughter, and have slain many of his servants. And now there comes a messenger from these same men, who is on his way to Charlemagne to seek for help. Keep him, therefore, from crossing the bridge, which thing if you fail to do, you will surely die shamefully." When he heard these words, Gallafer, the giant, was greatly enraged, and made as if he would smite Orage with a staff, but they that stood by hindered him. Then he mounted to the top of the Tower, and sounded his trumpet, so that many thousands of men assembled. Also the drawbridge was lifted.

Meanwhile Duke Richard considered within himself by what means he might cross the bridge, and was in great perplexity, "for," said he, "I do not see how I may win forward, nor may I return, and so fail in my promise to Roland. Now may God help me in my need." And looking about him, he saw how the whole land was covered with multitudes of Saracens, of whom some were now but a little space behind him. The foremost of these called to him with a loud voice, saying, "Now turn you, Sir Messenger, for your hour is come."

Duke Richard was ill content to hear such boasting, and, turning himself quickly, came upon him unawares and smote him so grievously that he fell dead to the earth. Then he took the Saracen's horse by the bridle and rode down to the river's bank. And lo! the stream ran as swiftly as a bolt from a cross-bow, with a noise like to thunder. And when he saw this and heard the roaring of the water, he commended himself to God.

While he looked, lo! a white hart came to the river-side, and the river, which before had been so much below the bank as a man may conveniently cast a stone, began to rise, and so continued till it came to the very top of the bank and even overflowed it. Thereupon the white hart entered the water, and Richard, commending himself to the protection of God, did the same, and swam safely to the other side.

Meanwhile King Charles, being in great trouble about the knights whom he had sent with a message to the Admiral of Spain, called together his counsellors and told them what was in his mind, saying, "I am greatly troubled because that no report has come to me concerning the knights that I sent. I know not what to do, save that I will put off this crown, which I am not worthy to bear." Said Ganelon, "My lord, I will give you good counsel. Let us return forthwith to France. This town of Aygremore is too strong for us. And the Admiral is a great warrior, and has also all the Saracens and Pagans in the world to help him. And now that Fierabras, his son, has been made a Christian by you, he is even more evilly disposed to you than he was before. Let us therefore go back to France. It is true that many valiant peers and knights have perished, but they have left children behind them, and these, when they have grown to man's estate, will do those things wherein their fathers have failed. So shall we recover the Holy Things, for which, indeed, I feel great sorrow, and avenge also Roland, the good knight whom I am persuaded you will never see more."

When the King heard this he fell into a swoon for the space of an hour. When he came to himself he asked his lords again for counsel, for he was loath to go back and leave Roland and the other Peers without help.

But Ganelon and all that were of his kindred, and all that followed him, gave him the same counsel as before. "There are twenty thousand of us," said Ganelon, "that have sworn not to go any further." But the King said, "What shall my crown profit me, if I do this base thing, and leave these my knights to perish without help! He that gives me such counsel loves me but little." Then said Reyner, that was father to Oliver, "Sire, if you listen to these men you will do this realm of France such damage as may never be undone." But Aloys, one of the friends of Ganelon, answered, "You lie, Duke Reyner; were it not that the King is here, this is the last word that you should say. For indeed who are you that you take so much upon yourself? Your father was a man of low estate." Then Reyner waxed so wroth that he smote Aloys to the ground. Thereupon there was great tumult and quarrelling, and there would have been bloodshed had not the King been there. "For," said Charles, "any man that shall draw sword in this place shall be hanged as a thief, though he be of the highest estate." So after a while the King, Fierabras helping, made peace, but "first," said he, "Aloys that spake so scornfully of Duke Reyner must crave pardon." And this Aloys did, but sorely against his will. Nevertheless the counsel of those who were for going back prevailed; for Geoffrey of the High Tower, than whom there was no man more worshipful in the King's court, was urgent that it should be so. Then the King consented, but with much sorrow, and all the nobler sort among his lords were greatly troubled that this should be done. So the signal of retreat was given.

Scarcely had the army set forth, when King Charles, chancing to cast his eyes eastward, saw one on horseback, with a sword drawn in his hand, that was riding with all the speed to which he could put his horse. Thereupon he called a halt, "for," said he, "if my eyes fail me not, this is Richard of Normandy. God grant that he brings tidings of Roland and of the other Peers!"

As soon as Duke Richard was come to where he stood, the King asked him concerning Roland and the Peers. Then Duke Richard told him that they yet lived; also he told him concerning Floripas and the Holy Things, but that the knights were straitly besieged. "Can they hold out," said Charles, "six days? If so they shall be delivered." "It may be," answered Richard. "But they have no victual save what they can win with their swords; the Admiral also has a mighty host of Saracens about the Tower." Also he told him about the bridge Mantryble, and of the great giant that kept it. "This bridge," said he, "we must pass by subtlety, for by force we cannot. Now I have devised a plan by which this may be done. Let some of us clothe ourselves as merchants, having our armour and arms under our cloaks, and let the rest hide themselves in a wood hard by, and be ready armed for battle. So when we shall have gained the first gate, I will blow on my horn, and at this signal you shall ride up with all the speed you may."

The King greatly approved this counsel. Thereupon five hundred knights disguised themselves as merchants. They made great bundles of hay and grass, which was to serve as merchandise. Every man also was well armed under his cloak. Duke Richard was their leader, and with him was Duke Reyner and others of great repute.

CHAPTER XXIII

HOW THE BRIDGE MANTRYBLE WAS WON

When King Charles and his men had hidden themselves in a wood that was hard by, Duke Richard and his company came to the bridge, driving pack-horses before them, laden, as has been said, with false merchandise. But when the knights saw the River Flagot, how swiftly it ran and with how great a roaring, and the bridge how perilous it was to pass, and the gates how they were barred with iron, they were not a little troubled. Richard said, "I will go before. Do you follow me, and when you have passed the first gate throw off your cloaks and smite with your swords. And whatever may happen, see that you fail not one another." And to this they all agreed.

Gallafer, the keeper of the bridge, stood by the first gate holding a great axe in his hand that had an edge on every side. He was a giant of great stature, with fiery eyes and skin as black as pitch, more like to a devil than to a man. The Admiral was his nephew, and loved him greatly, trusting him so that he made him warder of the bridge and ruler of all the countryside.

When the French knights came near he said to them, "Strangers, who are you?" Duke Richard answered, "We are merchants who travel to the fairs, Mahomet helping us, with drapery and other goods for sale. We would fain tarry awhile at Aygremore; also we have gifts, many and precious, for the Admiral. These others that you see are my servants, and know not your language. Tell me, therefore, what we had best do and by what way we should go." Gallafer answered, "Know now that I am appointed by the Admiral of Spain to be keeper of this bridge. And because there have passed over it certain knights who paid no toll, and also a messenger who won his way in wonderful fashion across the river, and slew also my own kinsman King Clarion, my master has straitly charged me that I should not by any means suffer any man to pass the bridge unless he be known to me." When Gallafer had said so much, Duke Richard bowed his head to him right courteously, and having so done, passed through the first gate, three others, of whom Duke Reyner was one, following him.

When Gallafer saw them he doubted what this might mean. "You are overbold," said he, "to come so far without leave of me." And he drew up the bridge. "And now," said he, "do you four surrender yourselves. I will send you prisoners to my lord the Admiral, who will deal with you as he shall please. And now let me see what you have under your cloaks, for you seem to me to have some evil design." When he had so spoken he laid hold of one of the four, and turned him about four times. Then another, Raoul by name, who was cousin to him on whom Gallafer had laid hands, cried, "Why do you deal so with my kinsmen?" And he struck at the giant with his sword, but could not hurt him, save to cut off a portion of his ear. Thereupon the two dukes, Reyner and Richard, drawing their swords, smote him with all their might. But they also availed nought, for the giant was clad in the skin of a serpent, that was harder than any coat of mail. The giant, on the other hand, smote at Raoul with his axe. But Raoul saw the stroke coming, and leapt lightly aside, so that the axe fell and hurt him not; but it cleft a stone of marble on which it lighted into two parts. Then said Duke Reyner, "What shall we do with this giant, for a sword avails nothing against him?" And he took in his hand the great branch of a tree, and smote him to the ground. Thereat the giant made a great and terrible cry, and the Saracens that followed him came running. Thereupon Richard let fall the drawbridge, and the five hundred sought to pass over it.

But the Saracens met them at the gate, and there was a great fight, wherein many were wounded and many slain. Then Duke Richard sounded his horn three times. When King Charles heard it he rose up forthwith from his ambush in the wood, and all the Frenchmen with him, and made for the bridge with all the speed they might use. And foremost of all was Ganelon, that was afterwards the traitor. Foremost he was, and gallantly did he bear himself that day. King Charles also showed himself a good man-at-arms. They died that day whomsoever he smote with his good sword Joyous.

The King saw the giant Gallafer on the ground with his great axe in his hand wherewith he had slain thirty Frenchmen, and he commanded that he should be slain, for he yet breathed. But not yet was the bridge won, for a great multitude of Saracens came up to help them that kept it. Among them was a giant, Amyon by name, who called to King Charles, saying, "Where is the King? It were better for him, dotard that he is, to be at Paris than here."

When the King heard this he dismounted in great wrath, and ran at the giant, and smote him with Joyous so rudely that he fell to the ground nigh cut in twain. At this the Saracens were not a little confounded. Nevertheless, they pressed upon the King and his men with darts and bullets and arrows. Then the King cried to his lords and knights for help. Many answered his call; nevertheless he was so hard pressed that there was scarce any hope left to him. Then the Duke Richard bade him be of good cheer, "for," said he, "if every man will but do his utmost this day we shall not fail." And he pressed on, and his comrades with him. Nor did Ganelon hold back, though there were some that gave him evil counsel, as Aloys, who said to him, "See, now, how the King is beset. It were well for us if he should not find deliverance. Leave him now, and let us go back to France, where we shall be masters without contradiction from any man." But Ganelon answered, "Now, may God forbid that we should betray our lord, of whom we hold all that we possess." Aloys said, "You are but a fool, seeing that you will not take your revenge when you may." But Ganelon would have none of his counsel.

As these two were talking, Fierabras came up, being now healed of his wounds, and asked where was the King. Aloys answered, "He is within the gate, and I take it by this time that he is dead." Fierabras cried, "What do you standing here? Why do you not help him in his need?" And he cried out, "Come all of you to the help of the King!" and a great multitude of Frenchmen came at his call. Great deeds did Fierabras that day, and Ganelon also, so that they two did more than any other to win the town.

Nevertheless there yet remained something to be done. For when Amyot, the giantess that was wife to Amyon, heard the cry of the townsfolk, she ran forth from her house, having a sharp scythe in her hand, and fell upon the Frenchmen in a great rage, and slew many of them. When King Charles saw what destruction she wrought he called for a cross-bow, and shot a bolt at her, aiming it so nicely that it struck her between the brows and slew her. It was seen that as she lay upon the earth she vomited forth fire from her throat, but she never moved more.

So the town of Mantryble was won. King Charles found much treasure therein, which the Admiral had laid up there, trusting that it should never be taken. Of this he made a bountiful distribution to his army, so that all were well content. This done, he appointed Havel and Raoul to keep the town, with five thousand men under them. Also he caused all his army to be assembled, and went to the top of a hill to survey them. And when he saw how many there were—for there were a hundred thousand men—he thanked God that had given him such power. And he made ready to march against the Admiral.

CHAPTER XXIV

OF THE END OF BALAN THE ADMIRAL

Meanwhile it was told Balan that Gallafer had been slain and the Bridge Mantryble taken. He was as one out of his wits with rage, and, crying out to his god Mahomet that he was accursed and recreant, he smote the image with a club that he held in his two hands and brake it down. Nor was this ill done, seeing that such things are of no use or profit. Nevertheless Sortibrant reproved him, and bade him repent of such injurious deeds. "That cannot I do," answered the Admiral, "seeing that this Charles has won my strong city of Mantryble." Sortibrant said, "Send a spy, Sir Admiral, that you may know what King Charles is doing; afterwards, let us march together against him, and if we prevail over him then shall you hang him and his people without mercy, and you shall cut off the head of your son Fierabras, for the help that he has given your enemies."

This the Admiral said that he would do. First he humbled himself before his gods, and vowed that he would offer to them a thousand pounds of fine gold. This done, he bade the trumpets sound to gather together the Saracens. These brought great engines of war with which to throw great stones against the Tower. And this they did to such good purpose that they made three great breaches in the wall by the least of which a cart might have passed. But Roland and Oliver stood over with their shields and stopped the way. Then cried the Admiral, "Friends, if you would have my love, do your duty, and bring this Tower to the ground. Verily, when I shall have taken it, I will burn with fire this ill daughter of mine, Floripas."

When they heard these words the Saracens came on more fiercely than ever. And now the Frenchmen held but the last portion only of the Tower. Then Roland bade his comrades fight with good courage, "or," said he, "we shall not overlive this day." As for Oliver, he was for sallying forth. "It were better," said he, "to fall honourably in the midst of our enemies than to be done to death in this place." And Ogier the Dane and other lords were of the same mind. But Floripas would not that they should do this. "You promised," said she, "that you would do nothing against my will. And I bid you stay within." And this they did, holding the breaches as best they might, and driving back the Saracens.

After a while Balan saw his daughter where she stood at a window with certain of the knights, and reproached her for her disobedience, and threatened that he would burn her with fire. But she answered nothing, only shook a stick that she had in her hand as if she would have beaten him. Then the Saracens, at his bidding, assaulted the Tower yet more fiercely, and the Frenchmen took the idols that were in the Tower, images of Apollo and Mahomet and others, and threw them down upon the Saracens to their great damage. When he saw this Balan swooned with rage, but, coming to himself, bade the Saracens assault the Tower yet again with all their might. And this they did so fiercely that the Frenchmen were well-nigh in despair.

When they were in this strait the Duke Naymes, going to an upper window in the Tower, saw the ensign of St. Denis in the valley beneath, and called to his fellows that they also should come and see it, "for," said he, "without doubt the King is coming to help us." The Saracens also perceived it; whereupon King Coldro counselled the Admiral that he should send an army to hinder him from coming to Aygremore.

That day the King and his army lodged in the open field, for their tents they had left at Mantryble. In the morning the King sent for Fierabras and said to him, "Dear friend, now that you have been baptized, I love you better than before. If, then, your father consents to be baptized and to deny Mahomet and his false gods I will establish him in his kingdom, and take not a penny of his goods. But if he will not, then shall he die without mercy." And he asked counsel of his Peers whom he should send with this message to the Admiral. Said Richard of Normandy, "Ganelon would do this errand as well as any man, should he be willing."

So King Charles sent for Ganelon, and gave him the message to be delivered to the Admiral; and Ganelon was well content to go. He armed himself, therefore, and mounted his horse that was named Gascon, and went his way. When he came to the valley where the army of the Saracens lay, the guards laid hold of him, but perceiving that he carried a message, straightway let him go. So coming to the tent wherein the Admiral abode, he spake with a loud voice: "The noble Charles, King of France, sends this message: If you will renounce Mahomet and all false gods and receive the true faith, you shall keep all your land and worship, and shall be honoured and loved of all Christian men. But if you will not, then you shall surely die." So Ganelon spoke. But Balan, when he heard these words, was very wroth, and made as if he would strike him. Then Ganelon drew his sword and smote Brullant where he stood by the Admiral's side, and, leaping on his horse, rode away.

The Duke Naymes saw him from a window in the Tower, and said to Roland and Oliver, "Who is this knight that rides so fast." They judged that he was none other than Ganelon, and Roland cried aloud, "God grant that he fall not into the hands of the enemy." And as he spoke, Ganelon turned upon the Saracens, and slew two of them, of whom the brother of King Sortibrant was one. When Oliver saw this he said to Roland, "See you this? That is a good knight. I love him in my heart. Would God I were with him where he is." But when the Saracens came near to the army of the King they left chasing Ganelon.

When the King knew how his message had sped he commanded that they should set the army in array. This they did, parting it into ten divisions. The Saracens also prepared for battle. And first Brullant rode forth and challenged the King to combat; nor did he hold back. So these two met and the King slew Brullant, and many other Saracens also. Nor did the Saracens lack great warriors, such as King Tenebres, a famous Turk, who slew John of Pontoise and many others. But him Duke Richard overthrew; Duke Reyner slew Sortibrant; and Balan the Admiral slew Huon of Milan, and went near to slaying Milon, but that Ganelon and his men saved him, though not without much damage to themselves. Nor, indeed, would they have so prevailed but for the help of Fierabras.

And now the knights that were in the Tower, seeing the army of their countrymen, came forth, and taking each man a horse, whose rider had been slain, charged the Saracens. These being taken, as it were, both before and behind, fled, as doves fly before a hawk. And Balan fled with them, but being overtaken was made prisoner.

When the Admiral was brought to Charles, the King said, "Will you forsake your false gods, who indeed have profited you nothing, and accept the true faith? If you will do so, you shall suffer nothing, either in your person or in your goods." "Nay," said the Admiral, "that will I not." Then Charles drew his sword and said, "If you yield not you die." And Fierabras, kneeling down, prayed that his father might be spared. Then Balan consented to be baptized. Nevertheless, when he came to the font the evil spirit in him rebelled, and he spat in the font, and went near to slaying the bishop that should have christened him; for he took him by the middle, and would have drowned him in the font. When the King saw this he said, "Verily this evil-doer must die." Nevertheless Fierabras entreated him to have patience, and, turning to his father, would have persuaded him even yet to baptism. "Nay," said Balan, "that will I never do, and you are a fool, my son, to ask such a thing. Would I were on horseback; then would I show these villains what is in my heart." When the King heard this he said, "Who will slay this fellow?" "That will I," answered Ogier the Dane, and he smote off the Admiral's head with a stroke of his sword.

After this said Floripas to Roland, "Sir Knight, remember how you promised to help me to that thing which I most desire." Thereupon Roland said to Guy of Burgundy, "Bring to mind the promise which you made to Floripas, the Admiral's daughter, that you would take her to wife." "That will I do right willingly," said Guy, "if the King consent."

So Floripas was baptized, King Charles and Duke Thierry being her sponsors, but her name was not changed. Afterwards the bishop married her to Guy of Burgundy. As for Guy he was made King of the land; part he gave over to Fierabras, who held it of him; but Charlemagne was overlord of the whole country.

CHAPTER XXV

HOW GANELON WENT ON AN ERRAND TO KING MARSILAS

For seven years King Charles the Great tarried in Spain. He conquered the whole land from the sea to the mountains, saving Saragossa only, of which Marsilas, a heathen, was King. Marsilas called together his nobles, and said to them, "This King Charles will be our destruction, for we have no longer an army wherewith to meet him. Give me counsel, as wise men should, so that I may be saved from death or disgrace."

Now the wisest of the heathens was a certain Blancandrin, a man valiant in war and good at counsel. "Fear not," said he, "fear not, O King. Send a message to King Charles promising him faithful service and friendship. Send also a present to him. Let there be lions and bears, and dogs, seven hundred camels, and a thousand falcons. Send also four hundred mules laden with gold and silver, that King Charles may have wherewithal to pay his soldiers. And tell him that if he will return to France, you will follow him, and there, on the Feast of St. Michael, will be converted to the Christian Faith, and will be his vassal in all honour. If he ask for hostages, let him have them, ten or twenty, as he may desire. See, I offer my own son to be one of them, whatever may befall him. Better that they should lose their heads than that we should lose our lordship and our lands, and be brought to beg our bread." And all the chiefs of heathenry said: "It is well; we will willingly give the hostages."

Blancandrin spake again: "By this right hand and by this beard I swear that the end of the matter will be this: You will see the French raise their camp in all haste and go back to their own land. On the Feast of St. Michael King Charles will make a great entertainment. But when he neither sees you nor hears any tidings of you, he will fall into a great rage, and will smite off the heads of the hostages. If it be so, it is better that they should lose their heads than that we should lose this fair land of Spain." And all the chiefs of heathenry said: "It is well said; so let it be."

Then said King Marsilas to certain of his lords—ten they were in number, and these the most villainous of the whole company—"Take olive-branches in your hands, and go and say to King Charles, 'King Marsilas prays you to have pity upon him. He promises that, before a month is past he will come with a thousand loyal followers, and will receive the faith of Christ, and will become your vassal in all honour. Also he says, that if you seek for hostages you shall have them.'" Then the King gave the ten lords ten white mules, whereon to ride. They had reins of gold and saddles of silver. So the ten lords departed from Saragossa, and came to King Charles at the city of Cordova.

They found King Charles in great mirth and joyfulness. He had newly taken the fair city of Cordova, having broken down the walls and towers with his engines of war, and with the city he had taken a great spoil of gold and silver. Of the people, too, there was not one but had to make his choice between Christian baptism and death. Now he was sitting with his barons in a great orchard. Some played at cards, and some of the graver sort at chess, and the young men fenced with each other. As for the King himself, he was sitting under a thorn on a great chair of gold, a right noble man to see, with his long, white beard. When the heathen ambassadors saw him they lighted down from their mules, and paid him homage. Then said their leader, Blancandrin, "Glory to the name of God! Our master, King Marsilas, bids us say that, being persuaded that the law by which you live is the law of salvation, he would fain win your favour even by the half of his treasures. He sends therefore lions and bears, camels and falcons, four hundred mules laden with gold and silver, wherewith you can pay all your soldiers. Moreover, he says that when you shall have returned to your own country he will follow you thither, and will be obedient to your law, and do you homage for his kingdom of Spain."

When King Charles heard these words he bent his head as one deep in thought. So he tarried awhile, for his speech was never hasty. At last he spoke: "You have said well. But your King has long been my enemy. How can I trust these promises?" Blancandrin made answer, "You shall have hostages, Sire—ten, fifteen, twenty, as you will. My own son shall be one of them, and the others shall be of the noblest of the land. So you may rest assured that at the Feast of St. Michael next ensuing my master shall come to you at your palace at Aachen, and shall there consent to become a Christian."

"He will do well," said King Charles; "'tis thus only that he shall save his soul." Then he commanded that the white mules should be put into stalls, and that a tent should be pitched in the orchard, and the ambassadors have such entertainment as was meet.

The day following King Charles rose early, and having heard mass sent for his nobles, for he would do nothing without the counsel of the wise men of France. So the nobles came, Ogier the Dane among them, and Turpin the Archbishop, and Count Roland, and with him Oliver, his closest friend, and Ganelon, the same that was the traitor.

Then said the King, "My lords, King Marsilas has sent an embassy to me with many and rich gifts, lions and bears, and camels, and abundance of gold and silver. Only he makes this condition—that I go back to France; and he promises that he himself will come thither, even to Aachen, and will there profess himself a Christian and also do homage for his kingdom. But whether he speaks the truth, that I know not. What think you, my lords?"

Then stood up the Count Roland, and said, "'Twere madness to trust this King Marsilas. Have we not been in this land of Spain for now seven years, and has not this King Marsilas always borne himself as a traitor? Did he not send fifteen of his heathens each with an olive-branch in his hand, and did they not make this same profession for him? You took counsel of your nobles, and you sent him—so ill-advised were you—two envoys. What did King Marsilas? He took their heads from them. What I counsel, Sire, is, that as you have begun this war, so you carry it to an end. Lead your army to Saragossa, lay siege to it, spend, if need be, the rest of your days before it, but take vengeance for the brave men whom King Marsilas did to death."

King Charles sat with his head bowed, and spake no word good or bad. Then rose up Ganelon, and said, "Sire, I would have you take no advice, except it be to your own advantage. King Marsilas has sent to you, saying that he is ready to profess our faith and to hold the kingdom of Spain as your vassal. He who would have you refuse such an offer knows nothing of business affairs. Counsels of pride are not for mortal men. Have done with folly, and listen to the words of the wise."

Then stood up the Duke of Bavaria; snowy white was his beard and hair. King Charles had no better counsellor than he. "Sire," said he, "Ganelon has given you good advice. You will do well to follow it. You have conquered King Marsilas in this war, taken his castles, broken down his walls, burnt his towns, and put his armies to flight. Now he begs for mercy from you. Surely 'twere a crime to ask too much. Remember, too, that he is ready to give you hostages. Send one of your nobles to treat with him, for indeed it is time this war should have an end." So spake the Duke of Bavaria, and all the men of France cried out, "The Duke has spoken well."

"But," said King Charles, "whom shall we send?" "I will go," answered the Duke, "if it so please you. Give me the gauntlet and the staff an ambassador should have." "Not so," said King Charles, "you shall not go. I would not have so wise a counsellor so far away. Sit you down. 'Tis my command"; and he spake again, "Whom shall we send to King Marsilas, my lords?" "I will go," cried Count Roland. "Nay," said Oliver, "you are of too fiery and fierce a spirit. I fear that you would but ill-manage such a business. 'Tis better that I should go, if it so please the King." "Be silent, both of you," said the King, "neither of you shall have a hand in this matter. By this white beard of mine, I declare that no one of the Twelve Peers shall go on this embassage."

Then stood up Turpin the Archbishop. "Sire," said he, "you have been in this land of Spain now seven years, and your nobles have suffered for your sake many labours and sorrows. Give me the gauntlet and the staff; I will go to this Saracen, and say somewhat to him after my own fashion."

But Charles answered him in great anger. "By this beard you shall not do it. Sit you down again, and speak not till I bid you. And now," he went on, "my lords, choose you for yourselves one who shall go on this errand. Let him be a man of counsel, who can deal a blow also, if need should be."

Then said the Count Roland: "Whom should we choose but Ganelon? You cannot find a better than he." And all the men of France cried: "It is right that he should go, if the King will have it so."

Said King Charles to Ganelon: "Come hither, Ganelon, and take this gauntlet and this staff. The voice of the men of France has chosen you. You heard it." But Ganelon liked not the matter at all. "This is Roland's doing," he cried. "Never, so long as I live, will I love Roland again, no, nor Oliver, for that he is Roland's friend, nor any one of the Twelve Peers, for that they also love Roland. Here, under your eyes, Sir King, I defy them all." "It profits not to be angry," cried King Charles. "If I bid you, you must go."

"Yes," answered Ganelon; "I perceive that I must go to Saragossa, and he that goes thither comes not back. Remember, Sire, that I have your sister to wife. We have one son; a fairer child you could not see. One day, so he live, he will be a gallant knight. I leave him my lands. Have a care for him, I entreat you, for I shall never see him more." "You have too soft a heart," said King Charles. "If I bid you, you must go."

Ganelon was in great trouble of mind. He turned him to Roland, and said, "What means your wrath against me? 'Tis you, as all men know, that have put on me this errand to King Marsilas. 'Tis well. But know that if God suffer me to return, I will bring upon you such trouble and sorrow that you shall remember it all the days of your life." "This is but folly," answered Roland. "All the world knows that I care nothing for your threats. Nevertheless, seeing that there is need of a wise man to take this message of the King's, I am ready to go in your stead."

"You shall not go," answered Ganelon. "You are not my vassal, nor am I your lord. I will go to Saragossa, to King Marsilas. But be sure that there will be something wherewith I may solace myself." When Roland heard this he laughed aloud, and Ganelon grew so full of anger that his heart was fain to burst. "I hate you," said he to Roland,—"I hate you! for you have made this evil choice light on me." But to Charles he said. "Behold me, Sire, I am ready to do your will."

"Ganelon," said the King, "listen to me. Say to King Marsilas, that if he will come and own himself to be my vassal and receive holy baptism, I will give him half the kingdom of Spain; the other half is for Count Roland. But if he will not do this thing, then I will lay siege to his city of Saragossa, and when I shall have taken it I will bring him by force to my city of Aachen, and will pass judgment on him and he shall end his days in sorrow and shame. Take this letter, which bears my seal, and give it into the King's right hand." So saying he reached out the gauntlet to Ganelon with his right hand. But when Ganelon reached out and would have taken it, it fell to the ground. "This is an ill starting," said the men of France, "this message will be the beginning of many troubles." "You shall hear of them in good time," answered Ganelon. To King Charles he said, "Sire, give me leave to depart, since I must needs go, 'twere well to lose no time." "Go," said the King, "for our Lord Christ's honour and for mine." And with his right hand he made the sign of the cross, and gave him absolution. At the same time he gave him the ambassador's staff and the letter.

Then Ganelon went to his house and clad himself in his finest armour. On his feet he fixed his spurs of gold, and by his side he bound his good sword Murgleis, and he mounted his charger Tachebrun. His uncle Guinemer held the stirrup for him. Many gallant knights wept to see him go. "O Sir," they cried, "this is an ill return for all the service that you have done to the King. Never should Count Roland have had such a thought. Send us, my lord, in your stead."

"Nay," answered Ganelon. "Why should I doom so many gallant men? Let me rather die alone. Do you, my friends, go back to fair France. Carry my greetings to my wife and to my son. Keep him safe, and see that his possessions suffer no loss." So saying, he went on his way to Saragossa.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE TREASON OF GANELON

Before he had travelled far, Ganelon overtook the Saracen ambassadors, and, indeed, Blancandrin had delayed his journey that this might be so. Said the Saracen, "What a wonderful man is your King Charles! He has conquered Italy, and New Rome and Germany, and is ready to lay his hands on England. But why is he bent on persecuting us?" "Such is his will," answered Ganelon, "and there is no man of such stature as to be able to contend with him." "You are brave men, you lords of France," said Blancandrin, "but you serve your master ill when you give him such counsel. You will bring him to destruction, and many others with him." "Nay," said Ganelon. "I am not one that deserves such blame, nor indeed does any man deserve it, except Roland only. Of a truth this will bring him to shame at the last. Now listen to me. The other day the King was sitting under a tree when Roland came to him clad in his cuirass. He had taken great spoil at the town of Carcassonne. In his hand he had an apple. Take this," said he to his uncle the King. "As I cast this apple at your feet so will I cast at your feet the crowns of all the Kings of the earth. Such pride must surely have a fall. Every day he exposes himself to death. I would that some one would slay him. We shall never have peace but at the price of his life."

Blancandrin answered, "This Roland must be hard of heart if he would subdue every nation and lay his hands upon every country. But on whom does he count to help him in so vast an enterprise?" "He relies on the French," said Ganelon. "There is nothing that he refuses them, neither gold, nor silver, nor chargers, nor mules, nor silk, nor armour. To the King himself he gives as much as he desires. I doubt not that he will conquer the world even as far as the sun rising."

The Saracen cast his eyes on Ganelon, and saw that he was of a fair countenance, but had an evil look. And Ganelon, when the Saracen's eyes were upon him, felt his whole body tremble from head to foot. Blancandrin said, "Are you minded to revenge yourself on this Roland? If you be, deliver him up to us. King Marsilas is a right generous giver, and will willingly share his treasures with you." Thus the two talked together, and by the time that they came to Saragossa they had agreed together to seek the means by which Roland might come by his death.

The King of Spain was sitting under a pine-tree on a throne that was covered with silk of Alexandria. There were thousands of his people around him, but not a word was said, so greatly did they all desire to hear the tidings that Ganelon and Blancandrin might be bringing with them.

Blancandrin came forward and stood before King Marsilas holding Ganelon by the right hand, and said, "In the name of the Prophet, health, O King. We delivered your message to King Charles. He lifted his hands to the sky and gave thanks to God, but he made no other answer. Nevertheless he has sent to you one of his chief nobles, who is a great man in France. 'Tis from him you will hear whether you will have peace or no." "Let him speak," said the King, "and we will listen."

Ganelon stood a while, thinking within himself. Then he began to speak, nor could any one have spoken better. "Health, O King, in the name of God, the God of Glory, to whom all honour is due. Hear now what King Charles commands. You must receive the Christian Faith. Then will he grant unto you half of the land of Spain to be held of him. The other half he grants to the Count Roland. Verily you will have a proud companion! If this please you not, then he will lay siege to Saragossa, will take you captive and carry you to Aachen, where he has his Imperial Throne. There shall sentence be pronounced upon you, and you will end your days in shame."

The King's face was changed with anger when he heard these words. He had a gilded staff in his hand, and would have struck Ganelon therewith, but that by good fortune his people held him back. When Ganelon saw it, he drew his sword two fingers' breadth out of the scabbard. "Sword," he said, "thou art fair and bright. So long as I have thee in my hands the King of France shall not say that I perished alone in the land of strangers; no verily, but their best warriors shall have paid for my death with their blood."

And now King Marsilas had been persuaded to sit down again on his throne. "You had put yourself in evil case," said his Vizier to him, "had you struck this Frenchman. Rather you must listen to his words."

"Sire," said Ganelon, "I will put up with this affront, but never will I consent, for all the treasures that there are in this land, nay, not for all the gold that God has made, not to speak the words that King Charles has commanded me to speak." And he threw to the ground his mantle of sable, covered with silk of Alexandria; but his sword he kept, holding its hilt in his right hand. "This is a noble baron," said the heathen chiefs.

Then Ganelon spoke the same words as before, and when he had ended them, he gave King Charles's letter into the King's hand. Now King Marsilas was a scholar, having learnt in the schools of the heathen. So when he had broken the seal of the letter, he read it from end to end; and having read it, the tears came into his eyes with rage, and he pulled his beard, and cried with a loud voice, "Listen, my lords, to this foolishness. Charles, who is King of France, bids me remember the two ambassadors whom I beheaded, and commands me, if I would redeem my life, to send him my Vizier. If I fail in this, he will be my enemy for ever."

All held their peace save the King's son, who cried, "Ganelon has spoken as a fool speaks; verily he deserves to die. Deliver him to me, and I will deal with him."

But Ganelon drew his sword, and stood with his back to a pine. King Marsilas stood up from his throne, and went into the orchard hard by, bidding the chief of his counsellors follow him. When they were assembled there, Blancandrin said to the King, "You do ill to deal harshly with Ganelon. He has pledged his faith to serve us." "Bring him hither," said the King. So Blancandrin brought him before the King, holding him by the right hand.

"My lord Ganelon," said Marsilas, "I was ill-advised when in my anger I sought to strike you. I would make amends for the wrong with these skins of martens which I have purchased this very day. They are worth more than five hundred pieces of gold." Then the King hung them about Ganelon's neck. "I accept them," said he; "may God Himself make it up to you for your bounty!"

Said the King, "Believe me, Ganelon, that I greatly desire to be your friend. Come, now, tell me about Charlemagne. He is an old man, is he not? One who has lived his life? He must be two hundred years old. Over how many countries he has passed! and how many blows has he taken on his shield, and what mighty kings has he brought to beg their bread! When, think you, will he be tired of waging war? Surely 'tis time that he should be taking rest at Aachen."

Ganelon answered, "You do not know King Charles the Great. No man is a better knight than he, so say all that know him. As for myself, I cannot praise him enough; I had rather die than cease to be one of his barons. But for his ceasing to make war, that cannot be so long as Roland lives. There is no such knight in all the East. A right valiant warrior, too, is Roland's companion, Oliver; right valiant are the Twelve Peers also. Of a truth King Charles need fear no man alive."

"But," answered the King, "there is no people that can be compared with mine. Four hundred thousand horsemen I have with whom to fight against King Charles and his Frenchmen." "Yet," said Ganelon, "it is not thus that you will answer him. Rather will you lose thousands and thousands of your soldiers. Listen now to my counsel. Give the King money in abundance; give him hostages. Then he will go back to France, and so going he will leave behind him his rearguard. In the rearguard I know well will be Roland, his nephew, and Oliver, who is Roland's companion. And being there, they are doomed to die. So will the great pride of King Charles have a fall. Never again will he rise to wage war against you."

"Ganelon," said the King, "tell us more plainly yet how I shall slay this Roland." Ganelon answered, "He and twenty thousand men of France will be in the rear of the King's army. It is your part, my lord, to gather your whole host. Send against them first a hundred thousand of your Saracens. I do not deny that they will be destroyed, but, on the other hand, the men of France will receive great damage. Then engage them in a second battle. It is not possible that Roland should escape both from one and from the other. And if he be slain, then you have taken from King Charles his right hand. France will have no more her marvellous armies; never again will King Charles lead such hosts into battle. So Spain will at last have peace."

"Swear that this shall be," said the King; and Ganelon swore that it should be on his sword Murgleis. Then they brought to the King a great book in which was written the law of Mahomet, and the King made a great oath upon it, that if by any means it could be so ordered, Roland should die and the Twelve Peers with him. "May our purpose be accomplished!" cried Ganelon.

Then the chiefs of the heathen came one after another to Ganelon with gifts in their hands. First came a certain Valdabrun. "Take this sword," he said; "no man has a better. The pommel and hilt are worth a thousand crowns. Let it be the pledge of our friendship. Only help us to bring Roland to his death." "It shall be done," said Ganelon.

Then came one Chimborin. "Take this helmet," he said; "no man has a better. See this great carbuncle that glitters on the vizor. Only help us to slay Roland." "It shall be done," said Ganelon.

Then came Queen Branimonde. "Sir," said she, "I regard you greatly. My lord and all his people much esteem you. I would send to your wife two bracelets. They are of amethysts, rubies, and gold. Your King has not, I well know, the like." Ganelon took the bracelets from her hand, and he stowed them in his riding-boot.

King Marsilas said to his treasurer, "Have you made ready the presents that I purpose to send to King Charles?" The treasurer answered, "They are ready: seven hundred camels laden with gold and silver, and twenty hostages, the noblest in the land."

And now the King would bid farewell to Ganelon. "I love you much," said he. "You shall not fail to have the best of my treasures, if you will only help me against Roland. Now I give you ten mules' burden of gold of Arabia, and every year you shall have the like. And now take the keys of this city, and give them to King Charles; when you present these treasures to him deliver to him also these twenty hostages, only see that Roland be put in the rearguard." "'Tis my thought," cried Ganelon, "that I tarry here too long." Thereupon he mounted his horse and rode away.