CCXLIV
Karl his dukes and his counts addressed: "Say, what of those who in bondage rest Who came Count Ganelon's plea to aid, And for Pinabel were bailsmen made?" "One and all let them die the death." And the king to Basbrun, his provost, saith, "Go, hang them all on the gallows tree. By my beard I swear, so white to see, If one escape, thou shalt surely die." "Mine be the task," he made reply. A hundred men - at - arms are there: The thirty to their doom they bear. The traitor shall his guilt atone, With blood of others and his own.
CCXLV
The men of Bavaria and Allemaine, Norman and Breton return again, And with all the Franks aloud they cry, That Gan a traitor's death shall die. They bade be brought four stallions fleet; Bound to them Ganelon, hands and feet: Wild and swift was each savage steed, And a mare was standing within the mead; Four grooms impelled the coursers on, A fearful ending for Ganelon. His every nerve was stretched and torn, And the limbs of his body apart were borne; The bright blood, springing from every vein, Left on the herbage green its stain. He died a felon and recreant: Never shall traitor his treason vaunt.
CCXLVI
Now was the Emperor's vengeance done, And he called to the bishops of France anon With those of Bavaria and Allemaine. "A noble captive is in my train. She hath hearkened to sermon and homily, And a true believer in Christ will be; Baptize her so that her soul have grace." They say, "Let ladies of noble race, At her christening, be her sponsors vowed." And so there gathered a mighty crowd. At the baths of Aix was the wondrous scene There baptized they the Spanish queen; Julienne they have named her name. In faith and truth unto Christ she came.
CCXLVII
When the Emperor's justice was satisfied, His mighty wrath did awhile subside. Queen Bramimonde was a Christian made, The day passed on into night's dark shade; As the king in his vaulted chamber lay, Saint Gabriel came from God to say, "Karl, thou shalt summon thine empire's host And march in haste to Bira's coast; Unto Impha city relief to bring, And succor Vivian, the Christian king. The heathens in siege have the town essayed, And the shattered Christians invoke thine aid." Fain would Karl such task decline. "God! what a life of toil is mine!" He wept; his hoary beard he wrung.
So ends the lay Turoldus sung.
THE MOTHERFUCKING END!
wormyguy
CXXVII
The Emperor sitteth in Aix again, With Gan, the felon, in iron chain, The very palace walls beside, By serfs unto a stake was tied. They bound his hands with leathern thong, Beat him with staves and cordage strong; Nor hath he earned a better fee. And there in pain awaits his plea.
CCXXVIII
'Tis written in the ancient geste, How Karl hath summoned east and west. At La Chapelle assembled they; High was the feast and great the day Saint Sylvester's, the legend ran. The plea and judgment then began Of Ganelon, who the treason wrought, Now face to face with his Emperor brought.
CCXXIX
"Lords, my barons," said Karl the king, "On Gan be righteous reckoning: He followed in my host to Spain; Through him ten thousand Franks lie slain And slain was he, my sister's son, Whom never more ye look upon, With Olivier the sage and bold, And all my peers, betrayed for gold." "Shame befall me," said Gan, "if I Now or ever the deed deny; Foully he wronged me in wealth and land, And I his death and ruin planned: Therein, I say, was treason none." They said, "We will advise thereon."
CCXXX
Count Gan to the Emperor's presence came, Fresh of hue and lithe of frame, With a baron's mien, were his heart but true. On his judges round his glance he threw, And on thirty kinsmen by his side, And thus, with mighty voice, he cried: "Hear me, barons, for love of God. In the Emperor's host was I abroad Well I served him, and loyally, But his nephew, Roland, hated me: He doomed my doom of death and woe, That I to Marsil's court should go. My craft the danger put aside, But Roland loudly I defied, With Olivier, and all their crew, As Karl, and these his barons, knew. Vengeance, not treason, have I wrought." "Thereon," they answered, "take we thought."
CCXXXI
When Ganelon saw the plea begin, He mustered thirty of his kin, With one revered by all the rest Pinabel of Sorrence's crest. Well can his tongue his cause unfold, And a vassal brave his arms to hold. "Thine aid," said Ganelon, "I claim; To rescue me from death and shame." Said Pinabel, "Rescued shalt thou be. Let any Frank thy death decree, And, wheresoe'er the king deems meet, I will him body to body greet, Give him the lie with my brand of steel." Ganelon sank at his feet to kneel.
CCXXXII
Come Frank and Norman to council in, Bavarian, Saxon, and Poitevin, With all the barons of Teuton blood; But the men of Auvergne are mild of mood Their hearts are swayed unto Pinabel. Saith each to other, "Pause we well. Let us leave this plea, and the king implore To set Count Ganelon free once more, Henceforth to serve him in love and faith: Count Roland lieth cold in death: Not all the gold beneath the sky Can give him back to mortal eye; Such battle would but madness be." They all applauded his decree, Save Thierry - Geoffrey's brother he.
CCXXXIII
The barons came the king before. "Fair Sire, we all thy grace implore, That Gan be suffered free to go, His faith and love henceforth to show. Oh, let him live - a noble he. Your Roland you shall never see: No wealth of gold may him recall." Karl answered, "Ye are felons all."
CCXXXIV
When Karl saw all forsake him now, Dark grew his face and drooped his brow. He said, "Of men most wretched I!" Stepped forth Thierry speedily, Duke Geoffrey's brother, a noble knight, Spare of body, and lithe and light, Dark his hair and his hue withal, Nor low of stature, nor over tall: To Karl, in courteous wise, he said, "Fair Sire, be not disheartened. I have served you truly, and, in the name Of my lineage, I this quarrel claim. If Roland wronged Sir Gan in aught, Your service had his safeguard wrought. Ganelon bore him like caitiff base, A perjured traitor before your face. I adjudge him to die on the gallows tree; Flung to the hounds let his carcase be, The doom of treason and felony. Let kin of his but say I lie, And with this girded sword will I My plighted word in fight maintain." "Well spoken," cry the Franks amain.
CCXXXV
Sir Pinabel stood before Karl in place, Vast of body and swift of pace, Small hope hath he whom his sword may smite. "Sire, it is yours to decide the right. Bid this clamor around to pause. Thierry hath dared to adjudge the cause; He lieth. Battle thereon I do." And forth his right - hand glove he drew. But the Emperor said, "In bail to me Shall thirty of his kinsmen be; I yield him pledges on my side: Be they guarded well till the right be tried." When Thierry saw the fight shall be, To Karl his right glove reacheth he; The Emperor gave his pledges o'er. And set in place were benches four Thereon the champions take their seat, And all is ranged in order meet, The preparations Ogier speeds, And both demand their arms and steeds.
CCXXXVI
But yet, ere lay they lance in rest, They make their shrift, are sained and blessed; They hear the Mass, the Host receive, Great gifts to church and cloister leave. They stand before the Emperor's face; The spurs upon their feet they lace; Gird on their corselets, strong and light; Close on their heads the helmets bright. The golden hilts at belt are hung; Their quartered shields from shoulder swung. In hand the mighty spears they lift, Then spring they on their chargers swift. A hundred thousand cavaliers The while for Thierry drop their tears; They pity him for Roland's sake. God knows what end the strife will take.CCXXXVII
At Aix is a wide and grassy plain, Where met in battle the baron's twain. Both of valorous knighthood are, Their chargers swift and apt for war. They prick them hard with slackened rein; Drive each at other with might and main. Their bucklers are in fragments flung, Their hauberks rent, their girths unstrung; With saddles turned, they earthward rolled. A hundred thousand in tears behold.
CCXXXVIII
Both cavaliers to earth are gone, Both rise and leap on foot anon. Strong is Pinabel, swift and light; Each striketh other, unhorsed they fight; With golden - hilted swords, they deal Fiery strokes on the helms of steel. Trenchant and fierce is their every blow. The Franks look on in wondrous woe. "O God," saith Karl, "Thy judgment show."
CCXXXIX
"Yield thee, Thierry," said Pinabel. "In love and faith will I serve thee well, And all my wealth to thy feet will bring, Win Ganelon's pardon from the king." "Never," Thierry in scorn replied, "Shall thought so base in may bosom bide! God betwixt us this day decide."
CCXL
"Ah, Pinabel!" so Thierry spake, "Thou art a baron of stalwart make, Thy knighthood known to every peer, Come, let us cease this battle here. With Karl thy concord shall be won, But on Ganelon be justice done; Of him henceforth let speech be none." "No," said Pinabel; "God forefend! My kinsman I to the last defend; Nor will I blench for mortal face, Far better death than such disgrace." Began they with their glaves anew The gold - encrusted helms to hew; Towards heaven the fiery sparkles flew. They shall not be disjoined again, Nor end the strife till one be slain.
CCXLI
Pinabel, lord of Sorrence's keep, Smote Thierry's helm with stroke so deep The very fire that from it came Hath set the prairie round in flame; The edge of steel did his forehead trace Adown the middle of his face; His hauberk to the centre clave. God deigned Thierry from death to save.
CCXLII
When Thierry felt him wounded so, For his bright blood flowed on the grass below, He smote on Pinabel's helmet brown, Cut and clave to the nasal down; Dashed his brains from forth his head, And, with stroke of prowess, cast him dead. Thus, at a blow, was the battle won: "God," say the Franks, "hath this marvel done."
CCXLIII
When Thierry thus was conqueror, He came the Emperor Karl before. Full fifty barons were in his train, Duke Naimes, and Ogier the noble Dane, Geoffrey of Anjou and William of Blaye. Karl clasped him in his arms straightway With skin of sable he wiped his face; Then cast it from him, and, in its place, Bade him in fresh attire be drest. His armor gently the knights divest; On an Arab mule they make him ride: So returns he, in joy and pride. To the open plain of Aix they come, Where the kin of Ganelon wait their doom.