Part 19

Charles, hearing how that holy Angel spake, Had fear of death no longer, nor dismay; Remembrance and a fresh vigour he's gained. So the admiral he strikes with France's blade, His helmet breaks, whereon the jewels blaze, Slices his head, to scatter all his brains, And, down unto the white beard, all his face; So he falls dead, recovers not again. "Monjoie," cries Charles, that all may know the tale. Upon that word is come to him Duke Naimes, Holds Tencendur, bids mount that King so Great. Pagans turn back, God wills not they remain. And Franks have all their wish, be that what may.

CCLXIII

Pagans are fled, ev'n as the Lord God wills; Chase them the Franks, and the Emperour therewith. Says the King then: "My Lords, avenge your ills, Unto your hearts' content, do what you will! For tears, this morn, I saw your eyes did spill." Answer the Franks: "Sir, even so we will." Then such great blows, as each may strike, he gives That few escape, of those remain there still.

CCLXIV

Great was the heat, the dust arose and blew; Still pagans fled, and hotly Franks pursued. The chase endured from there to Sarraguce. On her tower, high up clomb Bramimunde, Around her there the clerks and canons stood Of the false law, whom God ne'er loved nor knew; Orders they'd none, nor were their heads tonsured. And when she saw those Arrabits confused Aloud she cried: "Give us your aid, Mahume! Ah! Noble king, conquered are all our troops, And the admiral to shameful slaughter put!" When Marsile heard, towards the wall he looked, Wept from his eyes, and all his body stooped, So died of grief. With sins he's so corrupt; The soul of him to Hell live devils took.

CCLXV

Pagans are slain; the rest are put to rout Whom Charles hath in battle overpowered. Of Sarraguce the gates he's battered down, For well he knows there's no defence there now; In come his men, he occupies that town; And all that night they lie there in their pow'r. Fierce is that King, with 's hoary beard, and proud, And Bramimunde hath yielded up her towers; But ten ere great, and lesser fifty around. Great exploits his whom the Lord God endows!

CCLXVI

Passes the day, the darkness is grown deep, But all the stars burn, and the moon shines clear. And Sarraguce is in the Emperour's keep. A thousand Franks he bids seek through the streets, The synagogues and the mahumeries; With iron malls and axes which they wield They break the idols and all the imageries; So there remain no fraud nor falsity. That King fears God, and would do His service, On water then Bishops their blessing speak, And pagans bring into the baptistry. If any Charles with contradiction meet Then hanged or burned or slaughtered shall he be. Five score thousand and more are thus redeemed, Very Christians; save that alone the queen To France the Douce goes in captivity; By love the King will her conversion seek.

CCLXVII

Passes the night, the clear day opens now. Of Sarraguce Charles garrisons the tow'rs; A thousand knights he's left there, fighters stout; Who guard that town as bids their Emperour. After, the King and all his army mount, And Bramimunde a prisoner is bound, No harm to her, but only good he's vowed. So are they come, with joy and gladness out, They pass Nerbone by force and by vigour, Come to Burdele, that city of high valour. Above the altar, to Saint Sevrin endowed, Stands the olifant, with golden pieces bound; All the pilgrims may see it, who thither crowd. Passing Girunde in great ships, there abound, Ev'n unto Blaive he's brought his nephew down And Oliver, his noble companioun, And the Archbishop, who was so wise and proud. In white coffers he bids them lay those counts At Saint Romain: So rest they in that ground. Franks them to God and to His Angels vow. Charles canters on, by valleys and by mounts, Not before Aix will he not make sojourn; Canters so far, on th'terrace he dismounts. When he is come into his lofty house, By messengers he seeks his judges out; Saxons, Baivers, Lotherencs and Frisouns, Germans he calls, and also calls Borgounds; From Normandy, from Brittany and Poitou, And those in France that are the sagest found. Thereon begins the cause of Gueneloun.

CCLXVIII

That Emperour, returning out of Spain, Arrived in France, in his chief seat, at Aix, Clomb to th' Palace, into the hall he came. Was come to him there Alde, that fair dame; Said to the King: "Where's Rollanz the Captain, Who sware to me, he'ld have me for his mate?" Then upon Charles a heavy sorrow weighed, And his eyes wept, he tore his beard again: "Sister, dear friend, of a dead man you spake. I'll give you one far better in exchange, That is Loewis, what further can I say; He is my son, and shall my marches take." Alde answered him: "That word to me is strange. Never, please God, His Angels and His Saints, When Rollant's dead shall I alive remain!" Her colour fails, at th' feet of Charlemain, She falls; she's dead. Her soul God's Mercy awaits! Barons of France weep therefore and complain.

CCLXIX

Alde the fair is gone now to her rest. Yet the King thought she was but swooning then, Pity he had, our Emperour, and wept, Took her in's hands, raised her from th'earth again; On her shoulders her head still drooped and leant. When Charles saw that she was truly dead Four countesses at once he summoned; To a monast'ry of nuns they bare her thence, All night their watch until the dawn they held; Before the altar her tomb was fashioned well; Her memory the King with honour kept. AOI.

CCLXX

That Emperour is now returned to Aix. The felon Guene, all in his iron chains Is in that town, before the King's Palace; Those serfs have bound him, fast upon his stake, In deer-hide thongs his hands they've helpless made, With clubs and whips they trounce him well and baste: He has deserved not any better fate; In bitter grief his trial there he awaits.

CCLXXI

Written it is, and in an ancient geste How Charles called from many lands his men, Assembled them at Aix, in his Chapelle. Holy that day, for some chief feast was held, Saint Silvester's that baron's, many tell. Thereon began the trial and defence Of Guenelun, who had the treason spelt. Before himself the Emperour has him led. AOI.

CCLXXII

"Lords and barons," Charles the King doth speak, "Of Guenelun judge what the right may be! He was in th'host, even in Spain with me; There of my Franks a thousand score did steal, And my nephew, whom never more you'll see, And Oliver, in 's pride and courtesy, And, wealth to gain, betrayed the dozen peers." "Felon be I," said Guenes, "aught to conceal! He did from me much gold and wealth forfeit, Whence to destroy and slay him did I seek; But treason, no; I vow there's not the least." Answer the Franks: "Take counsel now must we."

CCLXXIII

So Guenelun, before the King there, stood; Lusty his limbs, his face of gentle hue; Were he loyal, right baron-like he'd looked. He saw those Franks, and all who'ld judge his doom, And by his side his thirty kinsmen knew. After, he cried aloud; his voice was full: "For th' Love of God, listen to me, baruns! I was in th' host, beside our Emperour, Service I did him there in faith and truth. Hatred of me had Rollant, his nephew; So he decreed death for me and dolour. Message I bare to king Marsiliun; By my cunning I held myself secure. To that fighter Rollant my challenge threw, To Oliver, and all their comrades too; Charles heard that, and his noble baruns. Vengeance I gat, but there's no treason proved." Answered the Franks: "Now go we to the moot.

CCLXXIV

When Guenes sees, his great cause is beginning, Thirty he has around him of his kinsmen, There's one of them to whom the others listen, 'Tis Pinabel, who in Sorence castle liveth; Well can he speak, soundly his reasons giving, A good vassal, whose arm to fight is stiffened. Says to him Guenes: "In you my faith is fixed. Save me this day from death, also from prison." Says Pinabel: "Straightway you'll be delivered. Is there one Frank, that you to hang committeth? Let the Emperour but once together bring us, With my steel brand he shall be smartly chidden." Guenes the count kneels at his feet to kiss them.

CCLXXV

To th' counsel go those of Bavier and Saxe, Normans also, with Poitevins and Franks; Enough there are of Tudese and Germans. Those of Alverne the greatest court'sy have, From Pinabel most quietly draw back. Says each to each: "'Twere well to let it stand. Leave we this cause, and of the King demand That he cry quits with Guenes for this act; With love and faith he'll serve him after that. Since he is dead, no more ye'll see Rollanz, Nor any wealth nor gold may win him back. Most foolish then is he, would do combat." There is but one agrees not to their plan; Tierri, brother to Don Geifreit, 's that man. AOI.

CCLXXVI