UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNI 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 v; 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 STORIES FROM 
 OLD FRENCH ROMANCE
 
 STORIES FROM 
 OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 E. M. WILMOT-BUXTON, F.R.Hist.S. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 PRINTFD IN GREAT DRITAIN
 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 y -J 
 
 a 
 
 The Storv of Aucassin and Nicolette . 
 I. The Troubles that befell them 
 II. Nicolette's Adventure in the Forest 
 III. Their Adventure across the Sea 
 
 The Story of Constans the Emperor - 
 
 The Story of Roland and Oliver . 
 
 The Story of the Death of Roland 
 I. The Message of Marsilius 
 II. Ganelon the Traitor .... 
 
 III. The Pass of Roncesvalles . 
 
 IV. The Death of Roland 
 
 " 5- 
 
 The Story 
 
 
 I. How 
 
 r 
 
 II. The 
 
 
 
 III. The 
 
 
 IV. I low 
 
 6. 
 
 The Story 
 
 
 I. How 
 
 
 II. How 
 
 
 III. How 
 
 c 
 
 The Story 
 I. The 
 
 OF William and the Werwolf . 
 William was carried off . 
 Adventure of the Two White Bears 
 Adventure of the Hart and the Hind 
 THE Queen's Dkeam came True 
 
 OF the Enchanted Knight . 
 Ogier the Dane became a Knight . 
 Ogier came to Fairyland 
 Ogier the Dane Returned 
 
 The Four Sons of Aymon . 
 II. The Good Steed Bayard 
 III. The Oath of the Emperor 
 
 TAGK 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 7 
 IS 
 
 30 
 
 36 
 
 36 
 42 
 
 47 
 3 
 
 56 
 
 56 
 60 
 
 65 
 69 
 
 76 
 
 76 
 
 85 
 94 
 
 100 
 100 
 109 
 114 

 
 THE FIRST STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN 
 AND NICOLETTE 
 
 (From the Conie-Fable oi Aucassm and Nicoletti) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE TROUBLES THAT BEFELL THEM 
 
 " Who will list a tale to hear, 
 That was an aged captive's cheer, 
 Of youth and maiden fair and sweet, 
 Aucassin and Nicolette?" 
 
 ONCE upon a time it so fell out that a certain 
 Count Bougars of Valence made war upon Count 
 Garin of Beaucaire ; he attacked his castle, burned his 
 estates, laid waste his country, and killed all his men. 
 
 Count Garin was an old man, old and frail ; and he 
 had one son whose name was Aucassin. Golden-haired 
 was Aucassin, and his eyes grey-blue ; his face was 
 bright and merry, and he had many good gifts. But he 
 had fallen deep in love with a fair maiden, and cared 
 for nothing else in the world but only for Nicolette. 
 
 Then said his parents to him, " Son, take up arms and 
 mount thy horse and go fight at the head of our men." 
 
 But Aucassin replied, " I will not mount horse, nor 
 will I go to battle nor strike a blow, if you give me not 
 my sweet friend Nicolette to be my wife." 
 
 Now to this his parents would not agree, for Nicolette 
 had been brought as a captive from a strange country 
 by the Saracens. None knew whence she was, but the 
 I
 
 S STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Viscount of the neighbouring town had bought her, 
 and baptized her, and made her his god-daughter, in- 
 tending one day to give her to a youth of humble birth, 
 who should honourably earn her bread. So his father 
 blamed Aucassin for his choice, saying, " Let Nicolette 
 alone ; and if thou wish to take a wife, I will give thee 
 the daughter of a King or a Count. There is not so 
 great a man in France but, if thou wished to have his 
 daughter, he would gladly give her to thee." 
 
 But the youth replied, " There is no high place upon 
 the earth that Nicolette would not adorn. If she were 
 Queen of France or of England it would be little 
 enough for her ; so true is she and gentle and gifted 
 with all good gifts." 
 
 When Count Garin of Beaucaire saw that he could 
 not win his son away from the love of Nicolette, he 
 betook himself to the Viscount, who v/as his vassal, and 
 said to him — 
 
 "Sir Viscount, away with your god-daughter if you 
 wish to save her life. For she has bewitched Aucassin, 
 who will not take up arms nor fight nor do anything 
 that he should ; and if I can lay hands on her, I will 
 burn her in a fire ; and great harm shall come to you 
 also in the end." 
 
 Then was the Viscount very sore afraid, and began 
 to assure the Count that he had nothing to do with the 
 matter ; he promised, moreover, that he would send 
 the girl away to a land where the eyes of Aucassin 
 should never behold her ; and so they parted. 
 
 Now the Viscount had a great castle in the midst of 
 a garden, and in the castle was a high tower. In a 
 room at the top of this tower he had Nicolette put, and 
 an old woman with her for company, and plenty of food 
 and wine. Then he had the entrance sealed, so that 
 there was no way to go in there nor to come out, save 
 that there was a tiny window looking towards the 
 garden, through which came to them a little fresh air.
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 3 
 
 In this gloomy chamber sat the golden-haired Nico- 
 lette and gazed sadly at the woods below. She saw the 
 roses blossom and the song-birds fly, and cried aloud, 
 " O wretched that I am, that I must live my life within 
 these prison walls! For thee, my Aucassin, for thy 
 sake am I here ! Yet it will not be for want of will if 
 I do not escape before long." 
 
 Now the report soon went through all the land that 
 Nicolette was lost. Some said she had fled out of the 
 land, others that Count Garin had had her done to 
 death. Then was Aucassin beside himself with grief; 
 he tried all he knew to win the secret from the Viscount, 
 and when that failed, he returned to his father's castle 
 and sat him down within his chamber to weep and 
 lament for her loss. 
 
 Meantime Count Bougars had by no means made 
 an end of the war, but was calling forth his men, horse 
 and foot, to besiege the castle of Count Garin. While 
 the assault was in full force, and when it seemed as 
 though the walls must shortly give way. Count Garin 
 again betook himself to his son's chamber, crying, "Son, 
 if thou lose this castle, thou art disinherited, and may 
 go forth into the world a beggar. Come now, take 
 arms and mount horse and defend thy land and help 
 thy men. For if thou dost not do this thing, men will 
 call thee coward." 
 
 " I care not what they call me," said the sad youth ; 
 " nor will I mount horse nor go to the fray if you do 
 not give me Nicolette, my sweet friend, to be my 
 wife." 
 
 " Son," said his father, " this cannot be. Rather would 
 I lose all that I have than that thou shouldst ever wed 
 her." 
 
 He turned away, but Aucassin cried after him, 
 " Father, come back : for I will make agreement with 
 you. I will take up arms and go to the fray on this 
 condition, that if I come back safe and sound, you will
 
 4 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 let me see Nicolette, my sweet friend, and speak two or 
 three words to her, and kiss her only once." 
 
 To this the Count agreed, and Aucassin was happy. 
 
 Then he called for his armour, and they made him 
 ready with hauberk and helmet and gold-hilted sword ; 
 and he sprang upon his war-horse and reached for his 
 shield and spear, and spurred away beyond the outer 
 gate into the thickest of the fray. 
 
 Tall and strong and well-knit was the boy, and the 
 horse on which he sat was fiery and eager ; but his 
 mind was so full of Nicolette that he forgot all that 
 he ought to do. So the horse plunged forward un- 
 checked into the very midst of the enemy, and hands 
 were stretched out on every side against him ; and they 
 wrested from him shield and lance and took him prisoner 
 on the spot, and began discussing by what death he 
 should die. 
 
 Then Aucassin at length realized his foolishness and 
 how, if his head were cut off, he would never speak to 
 Nicolette again. He had still his sword in his sheath 
 and his good horse under him, and suddenly began to 
 cut right and left and make a havoc round about him, 
 so that he overthrew ten knights and struck down 
 seven ; and he pushed out of the press and came gallop- 
 ing back to the castle. 
 
 Now as he went, the Count Bougars, having heard 
 that they were about to hang Aucassin, his enemy, 
 came forth from the camp to see this done. Him did 
 Aucassin meet in the way, and struck him on the 
 helmet so that he fell stunned to the earth ; and the 
 youth put forth his hand and seized him and led him 
 captive to his father, saying, " Behold your enemy who 
 has caused you such trouble ! Twenty years has this 
 war lasted, and never could be ended by man." 
 
 " Fair son," said the Count, well pleased, " such deeds 
 as this shouldst thou do, and not waste time on folly." 
 
 *' Father," replied the boy, " now say no more, I pray
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 5 
 
 you, but keep your agreement with me, and let me see 
 fair Nicolette ; for this was the promise you made 
 to me." 
 
 " I ? " said his father. " I promised thee naught. And 
 if she were here I would burn her in a fire, and you too 
 should not escape unhurt." 
 
 Then was Aucassin very wroth, and in his anger he 
 took Count Bougars, whom he had made his prisoner, 
 and set him on a horse and gave him his freedom. But 
 when Count Garin saw that his son would never help 
 him again nor ever forget sweet Nicolette, he had him 
 seized and bound and set in an underground dungeon, 
 whose walls were all of grey marble ; and there lay the 
 youth, lamenting his evil fate. 
 
 Now it was in the month of May, when the days are 
 warm and long and the nights still and clear, that this 
 hapless pair of lovers lay in prison. And one night, as 
 Nicolette lay in bed and heard the nightingale sing, she 
 thought much of Aucassin and of the ill-fate that might 
 come upon her at the hands of Count Garin, and so 
 determined to make her escape. 
 
 She saw that the old woman, her attendant, was fast 
 asleep, so she arose, put on a soft silken gown, and 
 taking the bed-clothes and towels, tied them together 
 and made a rope as long as she could. She fastened 
 this to the post of the window, and let herself down 
 into the garden. Right fair the maiden looked as she 
 walked through the dewy grass, and so very white was 
 her skin that the daisy flowers that bent under her foot- 
 fall looked dark against her ankles. 
 
 Through the postern gate she passed, and, moving 
 within the shadow, kept on until she came to the tower 
 where her true love was. 
 
 The tower was old and supported with buttresses, 
 and she crouched down beside one of these and wrapped 
 herself in her cloak ; and she put her head to a chink 
 in the tower and heard her lover weep within and make
 
 6 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 great lament for the sweet friend whom he loved so 
 much. 
 
 Now when she had listened for a while, she began to 
 speak and said, " O, my true love, stay thy laments, for 
 since thy father hates me so, he will never be at peace 
 with thee till I am far away. Now for thy sake I'll 
 cross the sea and wander in a strange land." With 
 these words she wept, and cut off a tress of her hair 
 and cast it through the hole into the dungeon ; but 
 Aucassin implored her not to go away, saying that this 
 indeed would surely kill him. 
 
 Now while they talked together, they were marked 
 by the Warden of the Tower ; yet he, being a man of 
 kindly heart, pretended not to see or hear them ; for he 
 was grieved for them both. So he held his tongue and 
 said nothing when the patrol of the town came along 
 that way ; but he saw they had drawn swords in their 
 hands ready to kill the maiden ; for so Count Garin had 
 commanded should be done if she should ever be found 
 to have escaped. 
 
 So he began to sing a song, as though he were singing 
 to himself, and this was what he sang — 
 
 "Little maid with grey-blue eyne, 
 Head of golden hair ashine, 
 Hear me now and understand : 
 Hide thee from the hireling band ; 
 They are coming thee to slay, 
 They will harm thee every way, 
 Hide while yet thou may !" 
 
 When Nicolette heard this song she understood all, 
 and thanking him softly for his courtesy, she wrapped 
 herself in her dark cloak and stood in the shadow of 
 the buttress till the patrol had passed by. Then she 
 whispered farewell to Aucassin and ran on till she came 
 to the wall of the castle. 
 
 The wall had been broken down, and she climbed up 
 it till she stood between the wall and the dry and stony
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 7 
 
 moat below ; but the moat was very deep and sheer, 
 and she was sore afraid. 
 
 "What shall I do?" she cried; "for if I let myself 
 fall I shall break my neck, and if I stay here they will 
 take me in the morning and will burn me in a fire. Yet 
 would I rather die here than be stared at with great 
 wonder by all the folk to-morrow." 
 
 So she let herself slip down the moat ; and when she 
 came to the bottom her pretty hands and feet were 
 bruised and covered with blood; but she thought nothing 
 of this, for her great fear was that she might not be 
 able to climb up the other side. But she found at the 
 bottom a sharpened stake, and with this aid she took 
 one upward step after another until at length she 
 reached the top, and there she sat herself down for 
 a while to rest and consider what she had best do next. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF NICOLETTE IN THE 
 FOREST 
 
 NOW when Nicolette had made her way a little 
 from the castle, she found herself on the edge of 
 a great forest, in which were serpents and savage beasts, 
 and of these she was very sore afraid. Said she to herself, 
 " If I seek the thick forest, wolves will seize me for 
 their food, and the lion and the wild boar will tear me 
 in pieces ; and if I wait here until daylight I shall be 
 taken and burnt alive. Now therefore I choose the 
 forest with all its dangers." 
 
 So she passed into the wood, but daring not to go 
 far, she crouched down in a dense thicket and went to 
 sleep. She slept till dawn of day, when the herd-boys 
 came forth from the town and drove their beasts between
 
 8 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 the forest and the river. On they passed till they came 
 to a fresh spring, which was at the edge of the forest, 
 and there they spread a cloak and laid their food 
 upon it. 
 
 When Nicolette awoke and saw this, she arose and 
 came to them, saying, " Fair youths, may God be your 
 help ! " 
 
 " God bless you 1 " answered one who was more ready 
 of tongue than the rest, for they were dumb with 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Fair youths," said she, "do you know Aucassin, son 
 of Count Garin of Beaucaire ? " 
 
 " Yes, well do we know him," said they. 
 
 " Then go, in God's name," said she very earnestly, 
 "and tell him there is a beast in this forest that he 
 should come and chase; and tell him that if he could take 
 it, he would not give one of its limbs for one hundred 
 gold sovereigns, nor for five hundred, nor for any 
 money." 
 
 As she said these words all the boys looked hard at 
 her and were filled with wonder at her beauty. At 
 length their spokesman exclaimed, " I tell him such a 
 thing? Not I indeed, for there is not a word of truth 
 in what you say. There is not a beast of any value in 
 the forest, not one whose limbs are worth more than 
 two or three pence at the most. But we see that you 
 are a fairy, and may be a wicked one. Go your way, 
 therefore, since we have no liking for your company." 
 
 " Ah, fair youth ! " she cried ; " know you not that 
 Aucassin has a deadly hurt, from which he never will 
 be cured till he find this beast ? Here have I five 
 pennies in my purse ; take them and tell him that he 
 must chase the creature and take it within three days, 
 or he will never be cured of his hurt." 
 
 " Faith," said he, " we will take the pennies, and if he 
 come here, we will tell him ; but we will never go to 
 seek him."
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 9 
 
 " As God wills ! " replied Nicolette meekly, and taking 
 her leave of the herd-boys, she passed on her way. 
 
 Through the wood she went by an ancient pathway 
 that wound among the trees, until she came to a place 
 where seven roads lay in seven different directions. 
 And as she knew not which way to go, she determined 
 to stay awhile that she might make sure whether 
 Aucassin really were true to her. So she took oaken 
 saplings and twisted them together with green leaves 
 interlaced, and made and decked with flowers a fair 
 bower in that spot, saying, " If Aucassin should ride 
 past this bower and not tarry and rest awhile for his 
 love's sake, he shall never be my true lover." 
 
 Then she hid herself near the bower in a thick bush 
 to see what Aucassin would do. 
 
 Meantime the report had spread through all the land 
 that Nicolette was lost. Some said she had run away 
 and others that Count Garin had done her to death. 
 
 Then Count Garin ordered that Aucassin his son 
 should be taken out of prison ; and he sent for the 
 knights of the land and the damsels of noble birth, 
 and made a very fine feast wherewith to comfort the 
 unhappy youth, who now believed that he should never 
 see fair Nicolette again. 
 
 When the banquet was at its height, Aucassin 
 managed to slip away through the window on to a 
 balcony, and there he leaned upon the rail, all bowed 
 down with woe. Suddenly a strange knight, who had 
 been watching him for some time, came out and spoke 
 to him and said, " Aucassin, of the same hurt that you 
 have I have myself been wounded. And now, if you 
 will trust me, I will give you good counsel." 
 
 "Sir, much thanks!" said Aucassin. "For good 
 counsel I would be greatly beholden to you." 
 
 " Then mount horse," said he, " and go along the 
 edge of the forest to amuse yourself; and you will see 
 the flowers and the grass and will hear the little birds
 
 10 STORIES FROxM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 sing. Perhaps there you may also hear a word of 
 which you will be the better." 
 
 " Sir," said Aucassin, " I thank you, and I will 
 do it." 
 
 So he stole away from the hall and passed down the 
 stairs and into the stable where stood his horse. Saddle 
 and bridle he put on, and set foot in stirrup and 
 mounted and came out from the castle. On he went 
 till he came to the spring, and there he found the herd- 
 boys about three o'clock in the afternoon'; and they had 
 spread a cloak on the grass and were eating their 
 bread with very great mirth. And as they ate they 
 sang this song — 
 
 " God give Aucassin his aid 
 And that Httle dainty maid, 
 She that hath the golden hair, 
 Eyes so clear and face so fair, 
 She who gave us pennies bright 
 Which shall buy us cakes to-night, 
 Knives with sheaths and whistles clear, 
 Little clubs and flutes to cheer. 
 Also little pipes that squeal — 
 
 May God him heal ! " 
 
 When Aucassin heard this song he thought at once 
 of his sweet friend Nicolette and wondered if she had 
 been there. 
 
 " Fair youths," said he, " sing again the song you sang 
 just now." 
 
 " We will not sing it," said he who was more ready of 
 tongue than the rest. " Sorrow be to him who shall sing 
 it to you, fair sir ! " 
 
 " Do you not know me, boy?" said Aucassin; and 
 the other, who was a teasing wag, replied, " Yes, we 
 know well that you are Aucassin, our young lord, but 
 we are not yours, but the Count's." 
 
 " Fair youths, you will do so, I pray you." 
 
 " Why indeed should I sing for you if it does not suit 
 me ? " asked the lad pertly.
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 11 
 
 " Surely you will," cried Aucassin, " if I give you these 
 ten pennies." 
 
 " Sir," replied the boy, rising with a bow of mock 
 politeness, " we will take your money, but we will not 
 sing for you, for we have sworn it. But I will tell it to 
 you if you like." 
 
 " Well," said Aucassin, " I would like it told better 
 than have nothing," 
 
 " Sir," said the boy, " we were here quite lately 
 between six and nine o'clock in the morning, and we 
 were eating our bread beside this very spring ; and 
 there came out to us a maiden, the fairest thing in the 
 world, so that we thought she was a fairy and that she 
 ruled over all this wood. She gave us money, and we 
 made agreement with her that, if you came here, we 
 would tell you that you should go hunt in this forest ; 
 that there was a beast therein so precious that you would 
 not give one of its limbs for any money, for the beast 
 has such a remedy that if yOu can take it, you will be cured 
 of your wounds. But you must catch it within three 
 days or else never more shall you see it. Now chase it 
 if you choose, or leave it if you choose, for I have done 
 all I promised her." 
 
 " Fair youth," said Aucassin, " you have said enough. 
 JMay God grant I find this beast." 
 
 Then Aucassin hastened within the forest, and his 
 charger bore him at a great pace from path to path. 
 The brambles tore him so that the blood poured forth 
 in many places, and one could have traced his path by 
 the red drops that fell on the grass. But he thought so 
 much of Nicolette, his sweet friend, that he felt neither 
 paJn nor wound. 
 
 All day he went through the forest without ever 
 having news of her, and when he saw that evening drew 
 near, he began to weep because he had not found 
 her. 
 
 Then, as he rode along an ancient grassy way, he
 
 12 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 saw before him in the middle of the path a youth of 
 very strange appearance. He was big and very ugly ; 
 his large head was blacker than a coal, and there was 
 more than a hand's-breadth between his two eyes; he had 
 great cheeks, and a very big, flat nose, wide nostrils, and 
 thick lips, with very large yellow teeth. He wore 
 leggings and shoes of ox-hide bound by strips of bark 
 over the knee ; his cloak was of rough untanned leather, 
 and he was leaning upon a big club. 
 
 To him Aucassin hastened, but when he looked on 
 him he had great fear. 
 
 " Fair brother," he said, " good even to you ! " 
 
 " God bless you ! " growled the other. 
 
 " What do you here?" asked Aucassin. 
 
 " What does it matter to you ? " replied the other. 
 
 " Nothing at all ; I only ask you in friendly wise." 
 
 "But why do you weep?" asked the other curiously. 
 " Sure, if I were as rich a man as you are, all the world 
 would not make me weep." 
 
 "Why, do you know me?" cried Aucassin. 
 
 " Yes, I know well that you are Aucassin, the son of 
 the Count; and if you tell me why you weep, I will 
 tell you what I do here." 
 
 " Surely," said Aucassin, " I will gladly tell you. 1 
 came this morning to hunt in this forest, for I had a 
 white deerhound, the most beautiful in this world, and 
 I have lost it ; for this I weep." 
 
 " What I" cried the youth. " You weep for a wretched 
 dog ! Black sorrow be his who pities you, seeing that 
 there is not a rich man in this land who, if your father 
 asked of him twenty dogs, would not send them very 
 willingly, and be glad to do it. But it is I who ought 
 to weep and lament." 
 
 "And for what, brother?" 
 
 " Sir, I will tell you. I was hired by a rich farmer 
 to drive his plough, and he had four oxen. Now, three 
 days ago I happened by great misfortune to lose the
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 13 
 
 best of my oxen, and I go seeking him. And I have 
 neither eaten nor drunk for three days past, for I dare 
 not go back to the town, lest the farmer put me in 
 prison, since I have not wherewithal to pay him. Of 
 all the wealth in the world I have nothing but what 
 you see upon me. A poor old mother I have, and she 
 had nothing but a wretched mattress; and that the 
 farmer dragged away from under her, so that she now 
 lies on the bare straw ; and for her I grieve much more 
 than for myself 
 
 " For money goes and comes ; what I have lost now 
 I shall gain another time, and I shall pay for my ox 
 when I can ; I shall never weep for that. But you 
 weep for a wretched dog ! Black sorrow be to him 
 who shall pity you for it ! " 
 
 "Surely," cried Aucassin, "you are a good comforter, 
 brother ! What was your ox worth ? " 
 
 " Sir, twenty shillings they ask me for it — no less." 
 
 " Now take twenty that I have here in my purse and 
 pay for your ox," said Aucassin. 
 
 " Sir," he replied, " much thanks 1 And may God let 
 you find that which you seek." 
 
 He parted from him and Aucassin rode on. The 
 night was beautiful and very still, and he wandered on 
 until he came to the place where the seven ways forked; 
 and there he looked before him and saw the fair bower 
 that Nicolette had made. 
 
 With flowers she had decked it without and within, 
 and it was the most beautiful ever seen as it lay in the 
 clear moonlight. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the boy, " Nicolette, my sweet friend, 
 has been here, and has made this with her own fair 
 hands. For her sweet sake I will now dismount, and 
 will rest therein for the remainder of the night." 
 
 So he took his foot out of the stirrup to come down, 
 and the horse was big and tall. Weary as he was, and 
 with his mind full of Nicolette. his most sweet friend,
 
 14 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 he let himself slip, and fell on a stone so hard that he 
 put his shoulder out of place. 
 
 Hurt as he was, he did the best he could, tied his 
 horse with the other hand to a thorn tree, and crawled 
 into the bower. 
 
 Then he looked through an opening in the bower 
 and saw the stars in the sky, and one among them 
 brighter than all the rest. And he began to sing this 
 song — 
 
 "Thou star that shinest clear on high, 
 The moon doth strive to draw thee nigh ; 
 My Kicolette is with thee there, 
 My Httle love with golden hair." 
 
 When Nicolette heard these words she came running 
 to him, for she was not far away, and clasped him in 
 her arms, crying, " Fair, sweet friend, how you are 
 welcome ! " 
 
 And he answered with joy, " Fair, sweet friend, well 
 found ! " 
 
 Then they embraced all over again, and great was 
 their happiness. 
 
 " It was but now," said Aucassin, " that I was much 
 hurt in the shoulder, but I feel neither pain nor grief 
 since I have you." 
 
 Then she felt him about and soon found that his 
 shoulder was out of place ; and she handled it with her 
 skilful fingers, and so pulled it that, as God willed, who 
 loves all true lovers, it came back to its place. And 
 then she took some flowers and some fresh grass and 
 green leaves and tied it up with a bit of her petticoat, 
 and he was soon quite cured. 
 
 " Now, Aucassin," said she, " take thought for to- 
 morrow. For if your father has the forest searched in 
 the morning, and I am found, whatever may happen to 
 you, I shall be put to death." 
 
 " Nay, sweet friend, for I will never let them take 
 you," cried Aucassin, and at once he mounted his horse,
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 15 
 
 took his true love in front of him, and so set out 
 towards the open fields. 
 
 They pass the hills, they pass the downs, 
 They pass the villages and towns, 
 They come at daybreak to the strand, 
 And there alighting on the sand, 
 They doubtful stand. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THEIR ADVENTURE ACROSS THE SEA 
 
 NOW as Aucassin and Nicolette were wandering 
 along the shore, they saw a vessel with merchants 
 aboard passing very near the land. 
 
 He beckoned to them, and they came to him and 
 were persuaded to take them on board the vessel. But 
 when they were upon the high seas a great and terrible 
 storm uprose, which drove them from land to land until 
 they reached a strange country and entered the gates of 
 the Castle of Torylory. 
 
 Then they asked whose land it was, and they told 
 them that it all belonged to the King of Torylory. So 
 they asked what manner of man he was and if he made 
 any war, and they said, " Yes, and a mighty war too." 
 
 So Aucassin took leave of the merchants, mounted 
 his horse, girded on his sword, took his true love before 
 him, and went along until he came within the castle 
 walls. 
 
 He asked where the King was, and they told him that 
 he sat within the bower working a fair piece of tapestry. 
 " Where then is his wife ? " asked Aucassin, and they 
 answered that she, with all the other people in the land, 
 was with the army. 
 
 Thereat they marvelled greatly and dismounted from 
 the horse, and while Nicolette held the bridle, Aucassin
 
 16 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH RON^ANCE 
 
 went upstairs to the bower where the King lay stretched 
 upon a settle at his ease. Then was Aucassin very 
 wroth ; he called the King ill words, and taking a 
 stick, he beat him until he swore that he would never 
 again sit at ease while his wife went forth to the war. 
 When he had thus sworn, Aucassin said, " Now, sir, 
 lead me to the place where your wife is with the army." 
 So the King and Aucassin mounted their horses, but 
 Nicolette stayed in the chamber of the Queen. 
 
 Now when they came to the battlefield, Aucassin 
 found that the weapons wherewith the soldiers fought 
 were roasted crab-apples, and eggs, and fresh cheeses. 
 
 He halted therefore, greatly wondering, and staring 
 at this strange warfare. " Sir," said he at length to the 
 King, "are these your enemies?" 
 
 " Yes, that they be," said he. 
 
 " And would you have me avenge you upon them ? " 
 
 " Yes, gladly," replied the King. 
 
 So Aucassin set his hand to his sword and rushed 
 among them and began to strike right and left, killing 
 many of them. 
 
 But when the King saw this he caught him by the 
 bridle saying, " Stay, fair sir, do not kill them utterly." 
 
 " What ! " said Aucassin, " do you not wish that I 
 avenge you ? " 
 
 " Sir," said the King, " you have done too much al- 
 ready. It is not the custom that we should kill one 
 another." 
 
 By this time the foe had turned and fled ; and the 
 King and Aucassin returned to the Castle of Torylory. 
 
 Now after a while the people of the land became so 
 fond of Nicolette that they bade the King drive Aucassin 
 out of the country and keep her for his heir, for they 
 said they were certain she was of very noble birth. 
 
 But of this Nicolette would hear not a word, being 
 well content to wait upon the Queen so long as she might 
 see her true love Aucassin and speak to him at times.
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 17 
 
 After they had lived for some time in peace and 
 happiness at the Castle of Torylory, there came one day 
 a fleet of Saracens from over the sea and attacked the 
 castle and took it by storm. They carried away all the 
 booty, and many of the men and women to be their 
 slaves. Nicolette and Aucassin they took and bound 
 hand and foot, flinging him into one vessel and Nicolette 
 into another. Nor was that the end of their ill-fortune, 
 for a storm arose which parted the vessels widely from 
 one another. 
 
 The ship in which Aucassin found himself drifted so 
 far over the sea that it came at length to the castle of 
 Beaucaire and lay a wreck upon that coast. And the 
 people of that country ran to the wreck, and rejoiced 
 greatly to find Aucassin, their young lord, therein. For 
 his parents had died during his long absence and he 
 was now their Count ; so they took him to the castle 
 and all became his men, and he held the land in peace. 
 But his heart was heavy day and night for love and 
 sorrow for Nicolette, his sweet friend, saying — 
 
 "True love, maid of sunny face, 
 Now I cannot guess thy place ; 
 God never made that kingdom yet, 
 No land, no ocean hath he set. 
 But I would search it if so be 
 
 I might find thee." 
 
 Meantime it so happened that the ship in which Nico- 
 lette lay belonged to the King of Carthage and his 
 twelve sons; but she knew it not. When they saw how 
 very fair was the maiden, they treated her with great 
 honour ; and often they asked her who she was, for 
 they were sure that she was a very noble lady and of 
 high lineage. But she could not tell them anything save 
 that she had been carried away from home as a little 
 child. " Yet," she said, " I was not so young but that if 
 I saw my country again I should know at once whether 
 it was my home or not." 
 
 2
 
 18 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 So on they sailed till they came to the city of Carth- 
 age; and when Nicolette saw the walls of the castle and 
 the country round, she remembered at once that it was 
 her birthplace, from which she had been carried away, 
 and she described the castle of the King and the rooms 
 in which she had been brought up and the woman who 
 had tended her. And she began to lament, saying, 
 "Woe is me that was born daughter to the King of 
 Carthage and cousin of the Sultan, who now am the 
 captive of a savage tribe. Oh, would I might see 
 Aucassin again and be delivered by him ! " 
 
 When the King of Carthage heard her speak thus, he 
 drew her near to him and said very kindly, " Sweet 
 friend, tell me who you are and do not be afraid of me." 
 
 " Sir," said she, " I am daughter of the King of 
 Carthage, and I was carried away as a little child, just 
 fifteen years ago." 
 
 When he heard her speak thus, he knew in truth that 
 she was his long-lost daughter ; and they all made very 
 great joy over her, and took her to the palace with very 
 great honour as the daughter of the King. Very soon 
 they wished to marry her to a great Saracen chieftain ; 
 but she only thought by what means she could find 
 Aucassin. Then finding that they would not let her be, 
 she took her viol and stole away one night till she came 
 to the seaport town, where she lodged at the house of a 
 poor woman on the shore. 
 
 Then she took a herb and smeared her head and her 
 face until she was all stained dark. She next had a 
 coat and a cloak and shirt and breeches made, and 
 dressed herself in fashion of a minstrel boy. Then she 
 took her viol and persuaded a seaman to take her on 
 board his vessel, and they sailed far over the high seas 
 till they came to the land of Provence. 
 
 There Nicolette left the ship and took her viol and 
 went playing through the country until she came to the 
 castle of Beaucaire where Aucassin dwelt.
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 19 
 
 Now Aucassin sat one day upon a balcony beneath 
 the tower of Beaucaire with all his barons around 
 him ; and he saw the grass and flowers around him and 
 heard the little birds sing. But his heart was heavy, 
 for he could think of nothing but Nicolette, the kind 
 and brave, whom he had loved so long and well. 
 
 Suddenly a minstrel youth appeared below, who 
 touched the strings of his viol and thus began to sing — 
 
 " Listen, noble lords, to me, 
 Ye of high and low degree, 
 An ye care to hear a stave 
 Tell of Nicolette the brave 
 And of Aucassin the true ; 
 Loving bonds between them grew. 
 He sought her in forest deep, 
 Then from Torylory's keep 
 Paynims bore them both away. 
 Of Aucassin I nothing say. 
 But Nicolette, the brave and true, 
 Doth in Carthage live anew ; 
 There her father, who is King, 
 Loves her more than anything. 
 They wish that slie shall marry yet 
 A king not loved of Nicolette ; 
 She loveth only one young knight, 
 He who Aucassin is hight ; 
 In the name of Heaven she swore 
 Ne'er will she have lover more. 
 If she may not find that lord 
 By her adored." 
 
 When Aucassin heard this song he sprang from his 
 seat, and taking the minstrel aside said, " Fair sweet 
 friend, do you know anything of this Nicolette of 
 whom you have sung ? " 
 
 " Sir, yes ; I know she is the truest maiden and the 
 most gentle and wise that ever was born. She is 
 daughter of the King of Carthage, who took her prisoner 
 when Aucassin was taken, and brought her to the city 
 of Carthage, until he discovered that she was his very 
 own daughter. Then he made great joy over her, and 
 wished every day to give her for husband one of the
 
 20 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 greatest kings in Spain ; but she would sooner be 
 hanged or burnt than marry such an one, however rich 
 he was." 
 
 " Ah, fair friend," cried Count Aucassin, " if you will 
 return to that country and tell her to come to speak 
 to me, I will give you as much of my money as ever 
 you care to ask. For I will not take a wife, however 
 high is her birth, but I wait for her ; and never will I 
 marry at all if I may not have her. If I had but 
 known where to find her, I should not have to seek her 
 now." 
 
 " Sir," said the minstrel, " if you will do this, I will 
 go to seek her for your sake and for hers, whom I love 
 much." 
 
 This he vowed to the minstrel and put money in his 
 hands, and when he turned away he wept. Then was 
 the heart of her who seemed a minstrel softened, and 
 she said, " Sir, be not dismayed, since in a little while 
 I shall have brought her to you in this town and you 
 shall see her." 
 
 So she left him and went to the house of the Vis- 
 countess, where she had been brought up ; for the 
 Viscount, her godfather, was dead. There she revealed 
 herself and told all her story ; and the Viscountess 
 received her with joy, and made her bathe and rest for 
 eight whole days. Then she rubbed her with a certain 
 herb, which made her as fair as ever she had been, and 
 dressed her in rich silk cloth ; and she sat down in the 
 chamber on a quilted coverlet of silk, and called the 
 Viscountess and asked her to go for Aucassin her love. 
 
 This she did, and when she came to the palace, she 
 found Aucassin weeping and grieving for Nicolette his 
 love, because she delayed so long. Then the lady 
 called him and said to him, "Aucassin, lament no more, 
 but come with me, and I will show you the thing you 
 love most in the world ; for it is Nicolette, your sweet 
 friend, who has come from a far country to find you."
 
 THE STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE 21 
 
 Thereat Aucassin made no further stay, but ran to 
 the chamber where Nicolette was awaiting him ; and 
 then were both of them happy indeed. 
 
 And on the morrow Aucassin married his sweet 
 maiden and made her lady of Beaucaire, where they 
 lived many years in delight and happiness. 
 
 So endeth the story of Aucassin and Nicolette. 
 
 The verse quotations in this story are from the translation of M. S. 
 Henry.
 
 THE SECOND STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF CONSTANS THE 
 EMPEROR 
 
 (From the Dit de V Empereur Constant) 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived a certain Emperor 
 whose name was Musselin ; and he ruled over 
 the city of Byzantium, which is now called Con- 
 stantinople. 
 
 Now this Emperor was learned in the science of the 
 moon and the planets and the stars ; and he knew much 
 of sorcery and of witchcraft, as did most of the pagans 
 of that day. And it came to pass one clear moonlight 
 night that he went forth, with a single knight for 
 company, through the midst of the city; and as he 
 passed along, he heard the voice of a man on a high 
 tower praising God aloud, because a child had been 
 born to him at that particular hour. 
 
 Then the Emperor and the Knight went in unto the 
 man, and asked him why he praised God with such 
 exceeding joy for that the child had been born at that 
 particular time. And the man bowed low to them and 
 answered (not knowing who they were), " Sir, I am a 
 man learned in the course of the stars and of the 
 planets, and I feared that if my child had been born 
 an hour ago he must needs be burned or drowned or 
 hanged ; for so was it written in the sky. But now 
 that he is born at this particular time, I know that all 
 is well with him ; and for that reason I praise God." 
 
 " But how is it well with him ? " asked the Emperor ; 
 and the man answered, " Know, sir, that the boy just 
 born shall one day marry the daughter of the Emperor 
 of this city, who was born a week ago; and in good 
 
 22
 
 STORY OF CONSTANS THE EMPEROR 23 
 
 time he shall be Emperor of this place and lord of all 
 the earth." 
 
 " Fellow," said the Emperor, " this can never come to 
 pass." 
 
 " Sir," replied the man, " it is written in the stars that 
 thus it shall be." 
 
 Then was the Emperor very wroth, though he made 
 no sign, and departed thence with the Knight. But 
 when he reached the street he bade the Knight pass 
 in secretly to the man's house and bring the child to 
 him. And the Knight passed in secretly, and finding 
 the babe lying, wrapped in linen clothes, upon a chair, 
 he took him and put him on a board and brought him 
 to the Emperor without being seen by any man. 
 
 Whereupon the Emperor took his knife and gashed 
 the child's breast, saying that this peasant's son should 
 never marry his daughter, nor come to rule after him. 
 But when he would next have killed him outright, the 
 Knight intervened, saying, " Sire, it is not meet that 
 you should do this thing ; and if it came to men's 
 knowledge it would bring shame on you. Let the babe 
 be, for he is dead already ; but if you will make sure 
 without more bloodshed, I will carry him down and 
 drown him in the sea." 
 
 " Do so," said the Emperor, " for I hate him with all 
 my heart." 
 
 So the Knight took the child and wrapped him in a 
 silken kerchief and carried him down to the shore ; but 
 on the way his heart was touched with pity. Now it 
 so happened that he had to pass by the gate of a 
 certain abbey, in the church of which the monks were 
 singing their matins ; and the Knight, when he heard 
 them sing, placed the child on a heap of rubbish before 
 the gates and left him there. 
 
 It was not long before the monks had left their sing- 
 ing and had heard the crying of the babe , and one of 
 them went out cind brought him in to the Abbot. And
 
 24 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 when the Abbot saw that he was a fair babe, and had 
 been cruelly ill-treated, he sent for doctors to heal him, 
 and declared that he should be brought up within the 
 abbey. And because the surgeons required a large sum 
 of money to heal the child, he was christened Co(n)stans, 
 because it cost the abbey many coins before he could 
 be healed. 
 
 Now the little Constans speedily grew in health and 
 beauty, so that every one said he must have come of 
 high kindred and would win great renown. When he 
 was seven years old he went to school, where he soon 
 became a fine scholar ; and when he was twelve, he 
 was so clever and so fair to look upon, that the Abbot 
 chose him to ride behind him as his page. After that 
 time it came about that the Abbot wished to speak 
 with the Emperor concerning a wrong which had been 
 done to the abbey by some of his followers. So he 
 sent him a noble gift and asked leave to visit him at 
 his castle, some miles away ; and to this the Emperor 
 agreed. 
 
 Then the Abbot rode forth with his train of followers, 
 and close beside him rode the boy Constans ; and when 
 he reached the castle, the boy drew near to him to hold 
 his hat in the presence of the Emperor. But when the 
 latter saw the lad, and marked how fair and gentle he 
 was, he could not take his eyes off him, and began at once 
 to ask the Abbot who he was and whence he came. 
 
 " All I can tell of him," replied the Abbot, " is that 
 nearly fifteen years since, our monks heard the voice of 
 a crying child as they came out from their matins ; 
 and when they brought him to me I saw that he was 
 fair, and gave orders that he should be nourished. 
 
 " But when I unwrapped him, I saw that he had been 
 cruelly mistreated ; for his breast had been gashed with 
 a knife, and the mark of it remains unto this day." 
 
 Then the Emperor knew at once that it was the 
 child he had tried to kill, and he eagerly asked the
 
 STORY OF CONSTANS THE EMPEROR 25 
 
 Abbot to give him the lad. The Abbot replied that 
 he could not do this without the consent of his monks, 
 and, returning to the abbey, told them of the Emperor's 
 wish. They, however, being in great fear of the Em- 
 peror's anger against them, desired him to send the 
 boy to the Court at once ; and so Constans was sent 
 away in haste to the Emperor. 
 
 Now the Emperor was glad to get the boy, for he 
 hated him very sorely, and was determined that he 
 should not escape him a second time. But he was very 
 anxious that none should know of his evil intention, 
 and so went warily to work. 
 
 It happened at that time that the Emperor had 
 business on the borders of his land, about twelve days' 
 journey from Byzantium ; and he departed thither, 
 taking the boy Constans with him. And after he had 
 taken much thought as to how he should put an end to 
 the lad, he sat him down and wrote as follows : — 
 
 " I, Emperor of Byzantium and Lord of Greece, give 
 this clear command to the officer whom I have left in 
 my place for the guarding of my land ; that so soon as 
 thou seest this letter, thou shalt slay or cause to be 
 slain him who shall bear this letter to thee, directly he 
 has given it into thy hands. See that my commands 
 are obeyed, as thou valuest thine head." 
 
 Forthwith he gave the letter into the hands of the 
 fair child Constans, and the lad set off, little knowing 
 that he was bearing his own death-warrant. 
 
 Hastening on his way, the boy reached the city in 
 less than fifteen days ; and as it happened, the time 
 that he arrived was the hour of dinner. So he desired 
 to wait until the folk had finished their meal, and mean- 
 time, because the sun was very hot, he rode into a long 
 garden, where there was shade on the green grass, un- 
 bridled his horse that the animal might graze, and sat 
 himself down beneath a tree. And there he presently 
 fell fast asleep.
 
 26 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Now it so happened that when the fair young daugh- 
 ter of the Emperor had finished her meal, she went 
 into the garden with three of her maidens ; and they 
 began to chase each other about the place. And as 
 they did so, the Emperor's daughter came of a sudden 
 to the tree where Constans lay sleeping, and she saw 
 him and looked on him with delight, saying to herself 
 that never had she seen so fair a youth. Then she 
 called to her one of the maidens whom she loved best, 
 and sent the others from the garden ; and she showed 
 him to the maiden, saying, " This is the handsomest 
 man that ever I have seen on any day of my life. See, 
 he bears a letter in his pouch, and gladly would I see 
 what it says." 
 
 Then the two maidens drew nigh to the lad, and 
 took from his pouch the letter, and the Princess read it 
 to herself; and when she had so done she began to 
 weep and lament. Then her companion begged her 
 to tell her the cause, and when the Princess had made 
 her vow to be true to her, she told her what the letter 
 said. 
 
 "Lady, what will you do?" cried the maiden in 
 dismay ; and her young mistress answered — 
 
 " I will put in his pouch another letter, in which the 
 Emperor, my father, bids his officer to give me to this 
 fair boy as his wife, and to make a great feast at our 
 wedding, seeing that the lad is of high and noble birth." 
 
 " But, lady, how wilt thou have the seal of thy 
 father ? " asked the maiden ; and the Princess, nothing 
 daunted, replied that she had in her coffer four blank 
 scrolls, already sealed by the Emperor, which he had 
 given her in case she needed to borrow money to make 
 ready an army during his absence. One of these she 
 took, therefore, and wrote thereon — 
 
 "I, King Musselin, Emperor of Greece and of Byzan- 
 tium my city, command thee, my officer, left in my place 
 for the guarding of my city, that ye give to the bearer of
 
 STORY OF CONSTANS THE EMPEROR 27 
 
 this letter my fair daughter in marriage ; for he is of 
 noble birth and well worthy to have her. And for that 
 reason make ye great joy and a feast to all them of 
 my city and of all my land." 
 
 In such wise wrote the daughter of the Emperor, 
 and when she had so done, she crept back to the garden 
 with her maiden and put the letter in the pouch of the 
 sleeping youth. 
 
 Then they began to sing and clap their hands to 
 waken him, and when he opened his eyes, he was much 
 confused to see those two fair maidens. And when 
 they greeted him, he sprang to his feet, and bowed low, 
 and answered them as behoved a courteous knight ; but 
 he could not take his eyes from the fair face of the 
 daughter of the Emperor. Then she asked him his 
 errand ; and when he told her that he bore a letter to 
 the officer in charge, the Princess told him she would 
 bring him in to him ; and she took him by the hand 
 and brought him to the palace. 
 
 When the officer heard that he was come from the 
 Emperor, he paid the lad much honour, and, kissing his 
 hand, received from it the royal letter. But when the 
 Princess heard the contents she pretended great sur- 
 prise ; as for the officer, he was astonished beyond 
 measure, and said in trembling tones to her, " Lady, 
 we must indeed do the will of your father, or otherwise 
 we shall be blamed exceedingly." 
 
 But the maiden made pretence of anger, saying, 
 "How can I be wedded without my lord my father? 
 That would be a strange thing indeed, and I will do it 
 in no manner." 
 
 " Say not so, lady," cried the officer in fear, " for thus 
 thy father ordains, and we must not gainsay it." 
 
 "Sir," said the Princess, "you shall speak unto the 
 chief men of the kingdom and take counsel of them. 
 And if they agree I will not go against it." 
 
 This the officer made haste to do, and showed them
 
 28 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 the letter, and they all agreed that the will of the 
 Emperor must be done. So they wedded the fair youth 
 Constans to the fair daughter of the Emperor; and a 
 great feast was made to all the people for the space of 
 fifteen days. 
 
 Meantime the Emperor, having finished his business, 
 returned to Byzantium, and while he was still two days' 
 journey distant from the place, a young man came 
 out from the city and met him on the way ; and the 
 Emperor asked how they did there. When the young 
 man told him that they made good cheer there and did 
 nothing but eat and drink during the last fifteen days, 
 the Emperor asked the reason. 
 
 " But surely, sire, thou knowest wherefore they do 
 this?" cried the astonished youth. "Thou sendest 
 a lad, exceeding fair and noble, to the officer, bidding 
 him wed him to thy daughter. But she would not have 
 him till all thy chief men had agreed that thy commands 
 must be obeyed in this matter. Then were they 
 wedded right happily, and such joy has been in the city 
 as none might wish it better." 
 
 Then was the Emperor mightily astonished, but all 
 he said was, " Since it is so, I must abide it, for there is 
 naught else to be done." 
 
 So he rode on to Byzantium, and when he drew near, 
 his fair daughter came out to meet him by the side of 
 her young husband, and a more lovely pair it had been 
 hard indeed to find. The Emperor, being a wise man, 
 pretended to feel great joy and received them both 
 with honour and regard. Then he asked to be shown 
 the letter, and when he saw it with his seal affixed, he 
 pondered much upon these things. All that night he 
 sat deep in thought, and at length he said to himself 
 that he had striven in vain against the things that had 
 to be. 
 
 Thereupon he made Constans a knight and ap- 
 pointed him his heir after his death. And Constans
 
 STORY OF CONSTANS THE EMPEROR 29 
 
 bore himself wisely as a valiant and a hardy knight 
 and defended him full well against his enemies. 
 
 Not long afterwards the Emperor died and was 
 buried, and Constans became Emperor in his stead. 
 And the Emperor gave great honour to that good 
 Abbot who had nourished him and saved his life, and 
 in his days did all the people of that land become 
 Christians. 
 
 A fair young son was born to Constans and his wife, 
 whom they called Constantine ; thereafter was that city 
 known as Constantinople, which was called Byzantium 
 at first. 
 
 And this is the end of the story of Constans the 
 Emperor.
 
 THE THIRD STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF ROLAND AND 
 OLIVER 
 
 (From Le Chanson de Roland) 
 
 NOW it came to pass in the days of Charlemagne 
 that the Emperor had a feud with one of his 
 great vassals, Count Gerard of Viana. The cause of it 
 was as follows : The Count with many others had come 
 to Aix to do homage for his land and to petition 
 Charlemagne to grant him also the dukedom of Bur- 
 gundy in return for his services m the late war. So 
 he stood before the Emperor and his Queen, who sat 
 upon two thrones upon a raised dais, and bent to pay 
 his homage by Icissing the foot of the King. But as he 
 did so he caught his own foot in the rushes which lay 
 spread upon the floor and, stumbling forward, pressed 
 his lips to the dainty wmte shoe of the Queen instead. 
 
 The surrounding peers gave a shout of laughter at 
 this mistake, but as the Count made no apology, stand- 
 ing flushed and angry at the jesting, with his hand upon 
 his sword, Charlemagne's hot temper flared forth, and he 
 declared that the land of Burgundy should be reserved 
 for one who better knew the laws of courtesy. At that 
 Count Gerard called his men together and left the 
 palace in a rage, declaring that he would never do 
 homage for Viana at all. 
 
 So he strengthened his castle and openly defied the 
 King ; and there came to his assistance his brother, 
 Duke Miles, and his son Rainier, with many armed fol- 
 lowers. But with Rainier came also the two children 
 of the latter, the maiden Aude, beautiful as the dawn, 
 
 30
 
 STORY OF ROLAND AND OLIVER SI 
 
 and Oliver, that valiant young knight, who in former 
 days had been sworn brother-in-arms to Roland, the 
 nephew of Charlemagne. 
 
 Now when the Emperor heard that Duke Gerard had 
 defied him, he swore a great oath that he would never 
 forgive him nor leave him in peace until he had him 
 on his knees before him. He gathered his great army 
 forthwith, marched upon Viana, and closely besieged 
 the castle. But the latter was so well fortified and 
 provisioned that there seemed little chance of success. 
 
 Oftentimes during the long siege the fair maiden 
 Aude would come upon the battlements and look down 
 upon the tents below, stretching wide to the banks of 
 the Rhine ; and there was she seen one day by young 
 Sir Roland, who thought her the loveliest thing in all 
 that land and longed to find favour in her sight. But 
 he knew not that she was the sister of Oliver, nor did 
 he dream that his former brother-in-arms was one of 
 those who so valiantly protected the castle. 
 
 Month after month the siege continued. All the 
 hard winter-tide the soldiers of Charlemagne kept their 
 tents and endured miseries of cold and hunger ; and 
 many of them might well wish themselves elsewhere. 
 When springtime came there rode messengers into the 
 camp, bringing news that Marsilius, the Moorish King 
 of Spain, had crossed the Pyrenees and was ravaging 
 the South of France with fire and sword. And all the 
 people of that fair region called aloud upon Charlemagne 
 to come to their help without delay. 
 
 Then the peers of Charlemagne, when they heard 
 this news, came to him in council and prayed him to 
 raise the long and hopeless siege and set them free to 
 march against the Moorish foes. But Charlemagne 
 shook his great beard at them, saying, " Can the King 
 break his oath? Have I not sworn not to forgive 
 Count Gerard nor leave him in peace until I have 
 humbled him to the dust ? "
 
 32 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 In vain they reasoned with him ; nothing would 
 move him from his resolve until the wise Duke Naymes 
 made his proposition. 
 
 " Let God decide this matter," said the Duke, " and 
 let us leave Him to settle it by single combat. We will 
 choose one of our knights by lot, and let Count Gerard 
 be asked to do the same ; and the winner shall decide 
 whether the Count does homage or whether we ride 
 away and leave him at peace." 
 
 This idea seemed very good to the Emperor and his 
 peers, and an embassy was at once dispatched to Count 
 Gerard with the proposition. 
 
 Now the Count and his followers were just as weary 
 of this long and profitless siege as were those in the 
 Emperor's camp. So they gladly sent word back that 
 they would agree to do as had been proposed ; and both 
 sides prepared to draw the lot. 
 
 On the side of Charlemagne this fell upon Roland ; 
 and at this all men save the traitor Ganelon rejoiced ; for 
 Roland was both young and valiant and very eager to 
 prove his prowess in the sight of the Emperor. So he 
 buckled on his good sword Durandal, and the strong new 
 buckler that the King himself had given him, and 
 mounted his war-horse and rode forth to victory. The 
 place of the combat was an island in the midst of the 
 River Rhine, and there Roland found waiting for him a 
 well-made young knight in shining armour, whose face 
 was hidden from him by the visor of his helmet. 
 
 On one side of the river stood the hosts of Charle- 
 magne opposite to the hosts of Count Gerard on the 
 other, and both watched eagerly for the result of the 
 fight. Among the watchers on the castle side stood 
 the maiden Aude and looked with eyes of approval at 
 the handsome form of Roland as he approached his 
 adversary. 
 
 Pale blue and white was the robe she wore, and pale 
 blue and white were the ribbons that fluttered from the
 
 STORY OF ROLAND AND OLIVER 3S 
 
 helmet of the stranger knight whom he was now about 
 to encounter. 
 
 Then the fight began. At the first furious onset the 
 lances of both the combatants were broken against each 
 other's shields. They fought then on foot for all the rest 
 of that day, but not a single advantage did one gain over 
 the other till the evening, when the sword of the stranger 
 knight was shattered to atoms by a furious blow against 
 Roland's helmet. 
 
 The latter at once lowered his own point, saying, 
 "The champion of Charlemagne fights not against an 
 unarmed man. Stay therefore until the morning, for 
 night draws on apace, and to-morrow choose another 
 sword and let us come fresh to the fray." 
 
 So the combat ended for that day and the champions 
 retired to rest. Next morning the fight began again 
 with renewed vigour, and all day long were these two 
 knights exactly matched until the evening, when 
 Roland's shield was split from top to bottom by the 
 sword of Gerard's champion. At once the latter 
 dropped his sword and bade his adversary retire till the 
 morning and then come with fresh armour. 
 
 So in this same manner that strange combat con- 
 tinued for five days, neither gaining a fair advantage in 
 the fight and each scorning to get the better of his foe 
 by an unfair one. 
 
 At length, as the fifth day drew to its close the two 
 knights waxed desperate and drove hard at each 
 other in hopes to bring the strange combat to an end. 
 At precisely the same moment that the sword of the 
 stranger knight broke off short to the handle after a 
 terrible blow on Roland's shield, the sword of Roland 
 buried itself up to its hilt in the shield of the stranger 
 knight so that it could not be withdrawn. 
 
 Both were now defenceless save for their fists, and 
 with these they were about to rush upon each other 
 when a strange thing happened, A bright cloud 
 3
 
 S4 STOtUES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 suddenly fell between them from the sky and in its 
 midst stood an angel with uplifted hand bidding them 
 cease their strife. At this wonderful portent each of 
 the young knights cast off his helmet and bowed his 
 head in awe ; and when they looked up again, behold, 
 the angel had vanished and each was gazing at a well- 
 known face. 
 
 "Roland!" "Oliver!" 
 
 " I yield ! " 
 
 Exactly at the same moment came the cry from each 
 as they rushed into each other's arms in a long em- 
 brace. 
 
 Deep was the wonder of the armies on either side of 
 the river at this remarkable development, and messengers 
 were hastily dispatched for an explanation. 
 
 This was soon forthcoming, and so strong was the tie 
 between all brothers-in-arms in chivalry that both sides 
 joined in a cheer of congratulation. And because the 
 combat had been so wonderfully equal between them 
 there grew up from that time forth a proverb — " Give 
 a Roland for an Oliver " — which means the same as 
 " Tit for tat." 
 
 Now this incident did not actually settle the feud 
 with Count Gerard, though it went a long way towards 
 doing so by creating a spirit of goodwill on both sides ; 
 but in the meantime the army of Charlemagne was 
 growing more and more discontented with its position, 
 and more and more eager to fight the forces of the 
 Moors, those ancient foes of P>ance. 
 
 At length one count after another began to collect 
 his forces and slip quietly away towards the devastated 
 region of the south, sometimes giving as his reason that 
 he must go and look after his property in that part, 
 sometimes saying nothing at all, but taking " French 
 leave" — which means no leave at all. 
 
 And still Charlemagne made no sign, though inwardly 
 his heart misgave him.
 
 STORY OF ROLAND AND OLIVER 35 
 
 Then it so happened that one day as he went to the 
 chase he found himself suddenly surrounded by Count 
 Gerard's men, who had been lying in wait for him. 
 Brought before the Count, the Emperor heard a traitor 
 knight speaking eagerly to his captor and advising that 
 he should be put to death. 
 
 Then arose old Count Gerard and smote down that 
 traitor knight even to the ground, and cried aloud, 
 " Never will I take advantage of my liege lord thus ! 
 Rather will I pay him homage for my lands," 
 
 So saying he knelt humbly before the Emperor and 
 placed his hands between those of Charlemagne, who 
 raised him to his feet, crying, " Now is my oath fulfilled 
 in strange fashion, and gladly do I declare this feud at 
 an end. Let all be forgotten and forgiven between us, 
 and to-night will I feast with you in your castle of 
 Viana." 
 
 So the peers and knights on both sides met in peace 
 and goodwill at that banquet ; and Roland sat with 
 Oliver on his left hand and the fair Aude on his right. 
 And in days to come, when Roland had fought and 
 vanquished a great giant of the pagan Moors, he claimed 
 the hand of fair Aude in marriage. But before the 
 wedding came that sad and terrible day at Roncesvalles, 
 when Roland so bravely laid down his life for the cause 
 of Christendom. 
 
 But of that we shall read in the next story.
 
 THE FOURTH STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF THE DEATH OF 
 ROLAND 
 
 (From Le C/ui/ison dc Roland) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE MESSAGE OF MARSILIUS 
 
 S 
 
 EVEN long years had Charlemagne the King 
 v.^ fought against the heathen host of the Moors in 
 Spain, until he had conquered all the land down to the 
 seashore itself One fortress only withstood him yet, 
 and that was Saragossa, which, perched upon a rocky 
 mountain-top, defied all efforts to subdue it. And 
 within the fortress of Saragossa lived Marsilius, the 
 Moorish King, who feared neither God nor man save 
 only Charlemagne. 
 
 Within the walls of the city sat Marsilius under an 
 olive tree and held council with his nobles and his 
 warriors. " What shall we do ? " said he. " For seven 
 long years has Charlemagne fought within our borders 
 and has won to himself all our land save only Sara- 
 gossa. And now he will come to take that also from 
 us, and we are no match for his warriors when he 
 comes. What, then, shall we do to save ourselves and 
 our land ?" 
 
 Then rose up the wise counsellor Blancandrin and 
 said, "One thing is clear. Too long already has 
 Charlemagne been in the land of Spain, and now 'tis 
 high time that he be got rid of Now, since we are 
 too few to drive him forth, we must have recourse to 
 strategy. 'Tis easy to make promises, and none here 
 is bound by them in after days. Let us therefore 
 
 36
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 37 
 
 choose out an embassy, and let them go to Charle- 
 magne and speak to him after this fashion : ' Marsilius 
 sendeth humble greeting to the great Charles. Like- 
 wise he owns thy power, and sees that it is of no avail 
 to strive longer against thee. He would therefore make 
 a covenant with thee. If thou wilt depart in peace from 
 this land, Marsilius will be baptized and all his host, 
 and will pay thee homage and hold the country hence- 
 forth, or such part as may please thee, as thy vassal. 
 
 "'And thus shall the covenant be fulfilled. If thou 
 wilt go to thy castle at Aachen and keep there the 
 feast of Michaelmas, thy vassal Marsilius will journey 
 thither and will bring with him the tribute. Many 
 dogs and lions will he bring, with seven hundred 
 camels and a thousand falcons ; he will also bring four 
 hundred harness mules and fifty chariots full of gold 
 and silver.' 
 
 " Thus shall the ambassadors say to Charlemagne, 
 and he, being simple of heart, will hear them readily, 
 and so will depart from the land." 
 
 He finished speaking, and Marsilius, pulling his 
 white beard doubtfully, replied, " Mayhap this Charle- 
 magne is not so simple as to trust so easily the word of 
 a Moor. Suppose he demand hostages ? " 
 
 "Let him have them!" cried Blancandrin. "Let 
 him have ten or twenty of our sons. He is welcome 
 to mine at any rate. What matters so long as oui 
 land is rid of him? For he will go with all his host to 
 Aachen, and when the feast is held and we do not 
 appear, he will slay the boys in his wrath at finding he 
 has been tricked. But what matters that ? Better that 
 our sons should die than that our land be lost for ever." 
 
 Then all the council arose and cried, " Blancandrin 
 has spoken well. Let this now be done." 
 
 So Blancandrin and nine others of the Moorish peers 
 went forth on ten white mules, whose bridles were of 
 gold and their saddles trimmed with silver ; and they
 
 S8 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 held olive branches in their hands in token of peace 
 and good fellowship. Thus equipped they set out for 
 Cordova, which city Charlemagne had just taken, and 
 before which he now held high festival. 
 
 Beneath a pine tree twined about with brier-rose sat 
 Charlemagne upon a golden chair, inlaid with ivory. 
 Very white and long was his beard, his face was bronzed, 
 and his eyes bright and blue ; and though his years 
 were many, his back was not bowed nor his great 
 strength brought low. 
 
 Scattered upon the green lawn on which he sat were 
 some of the noblest of the peers of France ; and nearest to 
 himself stood Roland, his nephew, and captain of his 
 host. Not far off lay Oliver, the friend of Roland, and 
 Geoffrey of Anjou, the King's standard-bearer, stretched 
 upon the white cloth which was spread upon the grass ; 
 others were tilting with each other upon the green ; 
 while the elder knights gathered round the tables where 
 some of their number were playing at chess. 
 
 Into the midst of this noble company came the 
 Moorish ambassadors and bowed themselves low before 
 the King ; and when he had given permission to speak, 
 Blancandrin spoke these words — ■ 
 
 " God save the glorious King Charlemagne, the ruler 
 of the earth. My master Marsilius sends me to thee to 
 beg that thou wilt make peace with him, for he can 
 withstand thee no longer. If thou wilt get thee to 
 Aachen, thy royal city, Marsilius will follow thee there 
 to keep the feast of S. Michael with thee ; for he will 
 seek baptism there, with all his host, and will worship 
 from henceforth the God of the Christians. Gifts will 
 he bring of bears and lions, hounds and camels, falcons 
 and jewels, and chariots full of gold and silver. And 
 he will pledge his word to be thy man henceforth and 
 to hold Spain under thy command, yea, all that he hath 
 he will hold of thee. Thy servant hath spoken it." 
 
 Now after these words were said a great silence fell ;
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 39 
 
 for Charlemagne spoke never in haste, nor changed his 
 mind when he had once spoken. At length he raised his 
 great white head, saying, " How shall I know that King 
 Marsilius will keep his word, seeing that he is mine 
 enemy ? " 
 
 And the messenger replied, " O King, he offers 
 thee hostages of good faith, ten or twenty children 
 of our noblest chieftains. But he prays you to treat 
 them well, seeing that at the feast of S. Michael he 
 will surely come to Aachen to redeem them, pay his 
 tribute, and receive baptism." 
 
 Then the Emperor Charlemagne arose and gave 
 orders that good lodging be given to the Moors for the 
 night ; and when the morning came he sent them away, 
 promising that he would consider well the words of 
 Marsilius and let him know his decision ere long. 
 
 So, after their departure, he called a great council to 
 consider the matter. Thither came Count Roland, and 
 Oliver his friend, with Archbishop Turpin, Olger the 
 Dane, and many another noble lord. With them also 
 came Ganelon the traitor, who hated Roland his step- 
 son and was ever on the look out to work him evil. 
 
 Now when the King had showed them all the words 
 of Marsilius and had asked their advice, the Franks 
 replied at once, " Beware of Marsilius, O King." 
 
 Then Roland spake, saying, " Trust him not, sire, 
 however fair his words may be. Remember how he 
 slew Count Basant and Count Basil, whom we sent 
 to him beforetime upon a peaceful errand. Rather let 
 us summon the host and march upon Saragossa with 
 all our might, that we may conquer the last of the 
 Moorish strongholds and so win Spain outright." 
 
 But Ganelon the traitor stood behind the King's 
 shoulder and murmured in his ear, " Heed not the 
 words of this young babbler. Consider rather how 
 Marsilius offers you his all — his faith, his goods, his 
 service. What honour will you gain by waging war
 
 40 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 upon a fallen man? This Roland is puffed up with 
 pride and thinks of naught but to gain renown upon the 
 battlefield ; and to do this he will risk all our lives." 
 
 Then Duke Naymes, a good and valiant baron, hearing 
 his words, spake out and said, " Ganelon has spoken 
 wise words, though he needeth not to lay blame upon 
 our good Count Roland. But what glory indeed is 
 there in fighting a vanquished foe? We cannot 
 trample on him who lies grovelling at our feet. Let 
 us make peace, therefore, and end the long and weary 
 war." 
 
 All the Franks answered and said, " His words are 
 good." 
 
 " Who then," said Charlemagne, " shall go up to 
 King Marsilius at Saragossa, to bear my glove and staff 
 and make agreement with him ?" 
 
 " I will go," cried Duke Naymes at once ; but the 
 Emperor answered, " Nay, for thou art my wisest 
 counsellor, therefore I cannot spare thee." 
 
 " Send me, I pray thee," urged Count Roland, kneel- 
 ing on one knee before the King ; but before he could 
 reply. Count Oliver, his friend and best-beloved, cried, 
 " Roland to go upon a peaceful errand ! Why, with thy 
 hot blood and impatient tongue, thou wouldst spoil any 
 hope of peace. Let the King send me." 
 
 But Charlemagne waved them both aside, saying, 
 " Peace 1 Neither of you shall go." 
 
 Then arose Archbishop Turpin, full of zeal, saying, 
 " I am very eager to see this heathen host and to 
 baptize them with their King ; therefore let me be the 
 one to go." 
 
 But the Emperor answered, " Not so fast, good Tur- 
 pin ; let them first make peace with me and then shall 
 they be baptized. Now, noble Franks, look around 
 you, and choose me a worthy man to make agreement 
 with Marsilius." 
 
 Then Roland answered, " Send Ganelon, my step-
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 41 
 
 father"; and the Franks acclaimed him, saying, "Yes, 
 Ganelon is the man, for there is none more cunning in 
 speech than he." 
 
 When Ganelon heard their words his heart within 
 him turned to water, for he remembered too well the 
 fate of those who had before that time gone as 
 messengers to Marsilius. But chiefly was his anger 
 kindled against Roland, his stepson, so that all who 
 were present saw it, and in his wrath he stood up 
 against him, saying bitterly, " Wouldst thou thus 
 openly show thy malice against me ? Thou art a fool 
 to do so, though we know that there is little love 
 between us. But wait thou until I return again, and 
 if I live I will repay thee for this." 
 
 To which Roland answered with a laugh, " No malice 
 was there in my words, as all these men know well. 
 'Tis an honourable task that lies before thee, and one 
 that needs a skilful man and wise of speech. Thou 
 shouldst be proud indeed if the King selects thee for 
 it." 
 
 " I go not at tJiy bidding," cried the angry Ganelon, 
 "for thou hast never gone or come at mine. Thou art 
 not my son, nor am I thy father ; but if Charlemagne 
 command me, I will do his service. Yet the day shall 
 come when thou shalt repent of thy words." 
 
 And again Roland laughed aloud, and many of the 
 peers laughed too. 
 
 Then Ganelon, though black with inward rage, bowed 
 himself before the Emperor, saying smoothly, " Sire, 
 ready am I to go up to Saragossa, although no 
 messenger has ever returned from Marsilius alive. 
 One thing I would crave in return, and that is that 
 thou wouldst care for my young son Baldwin ; see to 
 it that he inherits my land and honours, and train him 
 among thy knights when I return no more." 
 
 But Charlemagne replied, " Ganelon, be not so faint- 
 hearted ; look not on the dark side, but take my staff
 
 42 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 and glove and do my bidding, since the Franks have 
 chosen thee." 
 
 " No choice of the Franks is this," cried Ganelon, 
 " 'tis Roland's doing. All my life have I hated him and 
 his companion Oliver ; and as for the champion peers 
 of France, in whose eyes Roland can do no wrong, 
 I defy them to their faces." 
 
 " Thy humour is ill indeed. Count Ganelon," replied 
 Charlemagne, smiling ; " and if thou wert as valiant with 
 thy sword as with thy tongue the peers of France 
 might tremble. But, behold, they laugh. Take no 
 heed of them, however, for in this matter thy tongue 
 may do us better service than their swords." 
 
 Then the King drew the glove from his right hand and 
 held it out to him ; but Ganelon, discomposed and 
 wrathful, missed it so that it fell upon the ground. 
 Then all the Franks muttered low to each other, say- 
 ing, " This is an ill omen, indeed." But Ganelon 
 hastened to pick it up, saying, " Fear not ; ye shall hear 
 more of it anon." Then the King gave to him a letter, 
 signed and sealed, and delivered to him the staff, saying, 
 " Depart in the name of God and in mine own." 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 GANELON THE TRAITOR 
 
 WHEN Ganelon had ridden some miles along the 
 countryside he perceived in front of him the 
 messengers of Marsilius, who had made their journey 
 slowly, and were now halted beneath an olive tree to 
 rest themselves. 
 
 To them Ganelon quickly rode and joined himself 
 to their party. They talked to him of Charlemagne 
 and of his many conquests and of the grandeur of his 
 court ; but he spoke bitterly to them of Roland and of
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 43 
 
 his eagerness for battle, and of how he was fiercest 
 against the Moors of all the King's peers. 
 
 So, when they rode on again, Blancandrin drew 
 Ganelon aside from the rest, and talked warily to him, 
 saying, " Thinkest thou we shall have peace?" 
 
 And Ganelon answered, " He that asks for peace 
 often seeks occasion for war." 
 
 To which Blancandrin replied, " And he who bears 
 the message of peace to his master's enemies often 
 desires to be avenged on his own." 
 
 Thus each of these two knew the other to be a rogue, 
 and so they made friends together and opened their 
 hearts and spoke freely, laying their wicked plans. 
 
 Now when they came to Saragossa, Blancandrin led 
 Ganelon into the presence of King Marsilius, saying, 
 " We have borne thy message, O King, to the haughty 
 Charles, but he deigned to answer us never a word. 
 He has, however, sent to us the noble Count Ganelon, 
 from whose lips we shall hear whether we shall have 
 peace or no." 
 
 Then the wily Ganelon, instead of giving the letter 
 of Charlemagne, said thus : " God save King Marsilius. 
 The mighty Charlemagne sends to thee these words by 
 me, his messenger: 'If thou wilt become a Christian 
 forthwith, I will give thee the half of Spain to hold 
 from me as my vassal, and thou shalt pay me tribute 
 and be my servant. If not I will come upon thee like 
 a whirlwind and will take thy land by force and bring 
 thee to Aachen, to my court, and there thou shalt be put 
 to death.'" 
 
 Now when the King heard these words his counte- 
 nance darkened, and he snatched up a spear as though 
 to cast it at the messenger ; but Ganelon bowed his 
 head and said again, " Great King, I was bound to 
 deliver my message — let now the messenger die if it so 
 please thee. Yet what shall it profit thee to kill me? 
 Will that bring a softer message? And will not Charles
 
 44 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 be avenged of my blood ? Read now, I pray thee, his 
 written words." 
 
 With that he handed to Marsihus a parchment that 
 he had prepared exactly like that which Charlemagne 
 had given him ; and the King broke the seal and read 
 aloud the letter. 
 
 " I, Charles the King, remember how thou slewest 
 Basant my messenger and his brother Basil ; therefore, 
 before I will make peace, I order thee to send me thine 
 uncle the Caliph, thy chief minister, that I may do with 
 him as I will." 
 
 Then was the King's son so enraged that he drew his 
 scimitar and rushed upon Ganelon, saying, " It is not 
 meet that the bearer of such words should live." 
 
 Hard would it have gone with Ganelon, then, had not 
 Blancandrin, who had waited but for this moment, cried 
 out, " Do the Frank no harm, my lord, for he has 
 pledged himself to be on our side and to work for our 
 profit only," and with these words he took Ganelon by 
 the hand and brought him before the King. 
 
 Then the King spoke kindly to him, saying, " I was 
 wrong to be wroth with thee, O Ganelon ; and now will 
 I give thee five hundred gold pieces to make amends." 
 
 And Ganelon replied, " He that looketh not to his 
 own profit is but a fool, O King ; nor would I now be so 
 ungrateful as to refuse thy bounty." 
 
 So they began to talk together, and Marsilius said, 
 " Charles is now a very old man ; many are the years 
 he has passed in conquest, and great are the honours 
 and riches he has gained. Is he not yet weary of war, 
 nor satisfied with what he has got ? " 
 
 " Charles is indeed weary of war," answered Ganelon 
 smoothly, " but Roland, his captain, is a covetous and 
 greedy man, and he, with the twelve peers of France, in 
 whose eyes he can do no wrong, are for ever stirring up 
 the King to war. And these do whatever they will with 
 the King, though he is feeble and weary, and wuuld
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 45 
 
 rather rest. If these men were slain the world would 
 have peace. But they are mighty warriors, and have 
 with them twenty thousand men, the flower of the 
 French host, and who can prevail against them in the 
 open field ? " 
 
 " Yet I," said Marsilius, " have four hundred thousand 
 warriors, the best that ever were seen ; would not they 
 be sufficient ? " 
 
 " No, indeed," said Ganelon ; " it were folly to think 
 so. A wiser plan would be mine. Send back with me 
 the hostages to Charles, so that he will gather his host 
 and depart from Spain, and go to Aachen to await thy 
 coming. But since they are many he will leave his 
 rear-guard of twenty thousand, led by Roland and 
 Oliver and the twelve peers, to follow later. Upon 
 these, since they suspect no danger, thy warriors 
 must fall, so that not one of them escapes. When 
 these are once destroyed thou mayest make thine own 
 terms of peace, for the power of Charles will be broken 
 and he will fight no more. Now this rear-guard will 
 march by the pass through the narrow valley of 
 Roncesvalles ; see, therefore, that thou surround the 
 valley with thy host and take them by stratagem ; 
 then, though they will sell their lives dearly, they 
 cannot escape." 
 
 Thus did Ganelon the traitor do treason against 
 Charlemagne his lord, and received from Marsilius 
 much treasure of gold and precious stones. Also Mar- 
 silius handed to him the keys of the city of Saragossa, 
 promising that he should rule over it after these things 
 had come to pass, and that he would also give him ten 
 mules* burden of fine gold of Arabia. Thereupon 
 Ganelon departed from him in great goodwill, and the 
 twenty iiostages journeyed with him to Charlemagne. 
 
 Now when Ganelon came into the presence of the 
 great Kmg, he reported well of his mission, saying that 
 Marsilius was ready to do ail that he had promised,
 
 46 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 and had even now set out upon his journey to Aachen 
 to do homage and to pay tribute and to be baptized. 
 And at that Charlemagne raised his hands to heaven 
 and thanked God from his inmost heart for so blessed 
 an ending to the war in Spain. 
 
 That same night, after the King had lain down to 
 sleep, he dreamed a strange dream. He thought he 
 stood in the pass of Roncesvalles with no weapon in 
 his hand save an ash spear ; and this spear Count 
 Ganelon snatched from his hand as he passed by, and 
 broke into a hundred splinters. And he awoke and 
 knew it was a dream. 
 
 Then he slept again, and dreamed that he was in his 
 royal city of Aachen, where a viper came and fastened 
 on his hand ; and while he was trying in v^in to shake 
 it off a leopard sprang upon him and would have torn 
 him in pieces, had not his favourite hound leapt upon 
 the beast and torn off his ear. Then an awful fight 
 began between the dog and the leopard, but which of 
 the two was getting the best of it he could not tell. 
 He tossed and tossed upon the bed in the horror of it, 
 and suddenly awoke to find the sun was shining, and 
 knew it was a dream. 
 
 So Charlemagne arose and gathered his host together 
 to march to Aachen and to keep the feast there. And 
 he made Olger the Dane his captain of the vanguard, 
 to go with him in the forefront of the host ; and to 
 Ganelon he said, " Whom shall I make captain of the 
 rear-guard which I leave behind ? " 
 
 And Ganelon answered smoothly, " Roland thy 
 nephew ; for there is none like him in all the host." 
 
 When Roland heard that he rejoiced, and said unto 
 the King, " Give me now the bow that is in thy hand ; I 
 will not let it fall as Ganelon did thy glove." So he 
 was left captain of the rear-guard, and with him re- 
 mained behind Oliver, his dear companion, and the twelve 
 peers, and Turpin the Archbishop, and twenty thousand
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 47 
 
 warriors. And Charlemagne said to Roland, " Good 
 nephew, I have left half of my army in charge of 
 thee. See thou keep them safe." 
 
 " Fear nothing, sire," replied Roland, " I will render 
 good account of them to thee." 
 
 So they embraced each other, and the King departed 
 with his face set to the borders of Spain. Many a 
 gloomy valley and dangerous mountain path had to be 
 traversed before his men beheld their own lands again, 
 and even the heart of Charles grew heavy with fore- 
 bodings as he thought of his evil dreams. Again and 
 again, too, he spoke to Duke Naymes of his fears that 
 Ganelon had wrought some treason to him, and that 
 ill-fortune was at hand. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE PASS OF RONCESVALLES 
 
 NOW Marsilius had sent to gather all his chieftains 
 and their men, and had assembled them to the 
 number of four hundred thousand in the valley of Ron- 
 cesvalles ; and some of the most valiant of the Moorish 
 barons bound themselves by an oath to attack Roland 
 in a body, and to fight with none other until he was 
 slain. 
 
 Meantime the rear-guard of Charlemagne's army had 
 climbed the steep mountain-side, and looked down upon 
 the valley below, through which they had to pass ; they 
 saw that it was as full of spears as the fields are of grass, 
 and the murmur of the Moorish host was like the roar 
 of the sea upon the shore. Then Roland looked on 
 Oliver and said, " This is the work of Ganelon the 
 traitor." 
 
 And Oliver said, " What then shall we do ? For the 
 number of the Moors is greater than we have ever
 
 48 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 faced before, even with the whole host ; and we are but 
 a small portion thereof And their intention is to give 
 battle." 
 
 " God grant they may ! " cried Roland. " Let us but 
 do our duty. We will rest for a while and then we will 
 go forward." 
 
 " Be wise, my friend," replied Oliver, " for we are far 
 outnumbered by them. Take then your horn, the horn 
 that Charlemagne gave to you, and sound it ; it may 
 be that he will hear and return with his host to our 
 aid." 
 
 But Roland answered, " The fewer we are the more 
 glory shall we gain. God forbid that I should sound 
 my horn and bring Charles back with his barons, and 
 lose my good name and bring dishonour on us all. 
 Fear not what may befall us, for these pagans are 
 as good as dead already." 
 
 Then Oliver climbed up into a great pine tree and 
 saw how vast was the multitude that came up against 
 them, and again he prayed Roland to sound his horn, or 
 at least to come up and see the numbers for himself 
 But still he would not, saying that it would be time 
 enough to count them when they were slain. So he 
 bade his men make ready for battle. 
 
 Then the good Archbishop Turpin mounted his horse 
 and rode before the soldiers, saying to them, " Charles 
 has left us here to do our duty, and truly 'tis a fine 
 thing to die for the kingdom and our holy faith. Re- 
 member too that if you die you shall wear the martyr's 
 crown and be rewarded in Paradise, where we shall 
 all meet. Kneel then and confess your sins, that God 
 may have mercy on your souls." 
 
 Then all the Franks knelt as one man upon the 
 ground and confessed their sins ; and the Archbishop 
 blessed them and bade them rise, and for their penance 
 go strike the pagan to the ground. 
 
 To and fro in the front of the host rode their leader
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 49 
 
 Roland upon his good horse Veillantif, and by his side 
 hung his tried sword Durandal. 
 
 He gazed upon the Moorish host and his face grew 
 hard and stern, and then upon his own warriors and his 
 face was kind and gentle. 
 
 " Good comrades," said he, "gentle and simple, let no 
 man grudge his life to-day, but only let him sell it dear. 
 I have promised my lord Charlemagne to render good 
 account of you, and of that have I no fear, for what 
 I cannot say, the battlefield will say for us." 
 
 And they looked on him and loved him unto death, 
 and were willing to follow wherever he would lead them. 
 
 Then " Forward ! " he cried, and touching the side of 
 Veillantif with his golden spur, rode down the mountain- 
 side into the valley of Roncesvalles, while Oliver, Arch- 
 bishop Turpin, and the twelve peers of France pressed 
 close behind. 
 
 Fierce indeed was that fight, for the spear of Roland 
 alone pierced through the bodies of fifteen men, before 
 it brake to pieces in his hand and he was forced to 
 draw Durandal from its sheath. With equal valour 
 fought the twelve ; nor did any man of that twenty 
 thousand count his own life dear to him. The Arch- 
 bishop, spurring his way into the thickest fight, cried, 
 " Thank God to see how the rear-guard fight ! " and 
 Oliver, found fighting with the handle of his broken spear, 
 shouted when Roland bade him draw his sword, " Not 
 while a handful of the stump remains, for weapons 
 to-day are precious." 
 
 At length full two hundred thousand of the foe lay 
 dead, not to speak of those who had sworn to fight with 
 none but Roland, all of whom lay round him in a ring, 
 stone-dead. But though not a Frank gave way before 
 the foe, many thousands of them now were slain, and 
 of the valiant twelve, two only remained. 
 
 Suddenly as Marsilius, panic-stricken, saw his host 
 begin to fall back before the onslaught of the Franks, 
 4
 
 50 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 he heard the loud blast of trumpets close at hand. And 
 behold ! twenty strong regiments of Saracens had come 
 to his aid and were pouring down from the mountain- 
 side upon the Franks. 
 
 When they saw this the Moorish host recovered itself 
 and closed fast round the dwindling band of Franks. 
 Yet still Roland and his comrades fought so bravely, 
 hurling back the foe with grim jest as though it were 
 but sport to them, that the foemen stood in great fear 
 of them and knew not what to think. But meantime 
 the Franks were falling fast around their leader. The 
 twelve were dead and all the flower of the host, and 
 very few were left when Roland at length said to Oliver, 
 " Comrade, now will I sound my horn, if by chance 
 Charles may hear and come to us." 
 
 But Oliver was angry with his beloved friend, and 
 said, '"Tis now too late. Hadst thou but heeded my 
 words the women should not have lost their husbands, 
 Charles his valiant rear-guard, nor France her Roland." 
 
 " Talk not of might-have-beens," cried Archbishop 
 Turpin, " but sound thy horn at once. Charles cannot 
 save our lives now, but he can and will avenge them." 
 
 So Roland put his horn to his mouth and blew a 
 mighty blast. From hill to hill it echoed and from 
 rock to rock, until Charles heard the faint sound full 
 thirty leagues away, and started up within his hall and 
 said, " What is that I hear ? Surely our men do fight 
 to-day I " 
 
 But Ganelon made answer, " How can this thing be? 
 'Tis only the sighing of the wind among the pine trees." 
 
 And even as he spake the battle was raging fiercer 
 round Count Roland, and he himself was wounded very 
 sorely in the head, so that the blood poured forth from 
 his temples. 
 
 Weary with the fight, he withdrew himself for a 
 moment from the press and took his horn and blew 
 with all his strength a very long and mighty blast
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 51 
 
 And when he heard the echoes far away beyond the 
 mountains, Charles leapt from his chair and cried, 
 " Hark ! 'tis the horn of Roland. He is in battle or 
 he would never sound it." 
 
 But Ganelon replied, " He is too proud to sound it in 
 battle; perchance he is hunting in the woods. A pretty 
 jest it would be if Charlemagne were to gather his host 
 and take the warpath, to find Roland at the sport, 
 hunting a little hare!" 
 
 Meantime the fight waxed closer yet, and now nearly 
 all save Roland were slain. And when he found the 
 blood running fast down his face and his strength all but 
 gone, the Count lifted his horn once more to his mouth 
 and blew a feeble blast. Far away in his palace 
 Charles heard the dim wail, and started up and cried 
 with bitter tears, " O my brave Roland, too long have 
 I delayed to succour thee. By the wailing sound I 
 know that thou art in sore peril. To arms ! to arms ! 
 For straightway we will go to help him." 
 
 But when Ganelon would have spoken again, he 
 thrust him away and ordered him to be bound fast in 
 chains until he returned in peace. So they threw 
 Ganelon into prison, and Charlemagne and his host set 
 out with what speed they might to the succour of Roland. 
 
 Far away in the valley of Roncesvalles the tiny 
 company that was all that was left of the rear-guard 
 still fought desperately till one by one they fell beneath 
 a pile of the slain foemen. In one part of the field 
 Roland espied Oliver fighting one to seven, and even 
 at that moment he was struck a mortal wound in the 
 back. Yet even in his last moments, when his eyes 
 were dim with death, Oliver did not cease to wield his 
 sword and shout his war-cry with failing breath. Then 
 Roland hastened to his help, and cutting down the 
 Moors for a wide space around him, came to lift his 
 comrade from his horse, saying tenderly, " Dear friend, 
 I fear thou art in evil case."
 
 52 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 And Oliver replied, " Thy voice is like the voice of 
 Roland, but I cannot see thy face." 
 
 '"Tis I, thy comrade," cried Roland. 
 
 And he answered, " God bless thee, friend ; God bless 
 Charles and France ! " And with these words he fell 
 upon his face and died. 
 
 Then was Roland heavy of heart, and little cared he 
 for life now that Oliver was dead. He stood and looked 
 around him for the rest, and behold ! only two were left 
 beside himself. So those three, Turpin the Archbishop 
 and Count Walter and Count Roland, determined to 
 sell their lives dear; and when the pagan warriors 
 rushed upon them, Roland slew twenty, Count Walter 
 six, and Turpin five. Then all the remnant of the 
 pagan army, forty thousand strong, charged down upon 
 the three. Count Walter fell at the first onset ; the 
 Archbishop was brought from his horse, and brought 
 wounded to death upon the ground ; yet had Roland 
 never a scratch upon his body in all that fight, though 
 the blood poured again from the temples of his head. 
 
 Then once again he took his horn and tried to sound 
 it. Very feebly it echoed among the hills, but Charle- 
 magne heard it on his rapid march and cried, " Good 
 barons, Roland is in sore distress ; I know it by the 
 sighing of the horn. Spare not spur nor steed, I pray 
 you, for Roland's sake." 
 
 Then he gave word to sound the clarions loud and 
 clear ; and the echoes rolled among the mountains and 
 were plainly heard in the valley of Roncesvalles. 
 
 Great was the panic of the pagan host when they 
 heard that sound. " 'I'is the army of Charlemagne," 
 they cried. " Lo, he comes upon us and we shall have to 
 fight this battle all over again. Let us depart quickly 
 before he appear, for there is but one man more to slay." 
 
 So four hundred of their picked men rode at Count 
 Roland ; yet they feared to go too nigh, for they said, 
 " There is no man who can slay this warrior." But each
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 53 
 
 of them flung his spear, and his good horse Veillantif, 
 stricken in twenty places, dropped dead beneath him. 
 Under him fell Roland, and lay stunned by the fall ; but 
 though his armour was riddled with spear-holes, yet had 
 he never a scratch upon him. But the pagans came and 
 looked at him, and giving him up for dead, made all 
 haste out of that valley before the advancing host of 
 Charlemagne, and fled away to Spain. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE DEATH OF ROLAND 
 
 NOW at length, when all the pagan host had 
 vanished among the mountains, Roland came to 
 himself and found that he was left alone among the 
 dead. Scarce could he drag himself to his feet for the 
 anguish of the wound in his head, but he looked around 
 upon that dreadful field and said, " The rear-guard will 
 give in its own account to Charles when he comes." 
 
 He came to the place where Oliver lay, and took him 
 gently in his arms and made lament over him, saying, 
 " Dear comrade, thou wast ever a kindly friend to me, 
 and I repent me that once and once only I listened not 
 to thy wise counsel. And now, God rest thy soul, for 
 no man ever had truer comrade than thou." 
 
 As he spoke thus, he heard a faint voice near by, and 
 turning saw the brave old Archbishop Turpin d}'ing on 
 the ground ; and in the midst of his great suffering he 
 raised his shaking hands and blessed the dead who lay 
 around him in the name of God. And to Roland he 
 cried, " Dear son, thank God the field is ours this day ! " 
 and with that he clasped his hands in prayer and died. 
 
 Now Roland knew that his own end was near, so he 
 crept away to a green mound on which were four marble 
 steps and lay down on the lowest of them, with his horn
 
 54 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 in one hand and Durandal, his good sword, in the other. 
 And as he lay there fainting in his pain, a certain 
 thievish Moor came by, thinking to plunder the dead ; 
 who, seeing the glitter of the jewelled hilt of Durandal, 
 put out his hand and tried to draw it horn the sheath. 
 Just as he did so Roland opened his eyes, and seeing 
 the thief bending over him with the sword in his hand, 
 raised his horn and dealt the fellow such a blow that he 
 fell, and never moved again. 
 
 Then he took Durandal in his own hands, praying 
 that it might never fall into those of his enemies, and 
 he caressed the good blade, saying, " O Durandal, how 
 keen of edge thou art 1 How many lands hast thou 
 conquered for Charles since first he girt thee at my side! 
 And now, though it grieves me sore, I would rather 
 break thee to atoms than that pagan hands should turn 
 thee against France." 
 
 Then, exerting all his remaining strength, Roland 
 smote the blade, point downwards, upon the marble 
 step. The hard stone splintered, but the blade remained 
 unhurt — not even its edge was turned. He smote the 
 second step, but though the blade cut through the 
 stone, it was neither blunted nor broken. Then he 
 struck the third step with all his might, so that the 
 stone fell to powder, but the blade rebounded, quite un- 
 hurt. And Roland repented that he had tried to break 
 the blade and said, "O Durandal, I am to blame, for 
 God will keep thee safe for Charles and for France." 
 
 So having laid his sword and horn beneath him. 
 Roland fell back under the shade of a pine tree and 
 turned his face towards Spain, that men might know he 
 died a conqueror. Many things he remembered in that 
 last hour, and much he thought of Charlemagne, his 
 hero and his lord, who had brought him up from in- 
 fancy, " He will see that I have rendered good account," 
 he murmured as he looked around at the heaps of slain. 
 He thought of his beloved France, the land he held so
 
 STORY OF THE DEATH OF ROLAND 55 
 
 dear, and his heart grew very tender. Then lifted he 
 his hands to heaven and closed his eyes ; his soul de- 
 parted from his weary body and so he died. 
 
 Fast and faster still rode the host of Charlemagne 
 as the mist came down and the night began to fall. 
 Again and again his clarions sounded from peak to 
 peak, but there came no answering call. Down through 
 the gloom they rode, and saw the silent field and the 
 quiet dead ; and all those who saw it lifted up their 
 voices and wept. 
 
 But when the Emperor found the body of Roland, 
 his well-beloved, whom he had nourished from a babe, 
 his heart was wellnigh broken, and he sat upon the 
 ground beside him and wept very bitterly. And even 
 while he mourned came Duke Naymes to him, saying, 
 " As I came down the pass I saw a cloud of dust rising 
 from the other side of the mountains. Methinks it was 
 the pagan host fleeing to Saragossa." 
 
 Then Charlemagne immediately arose, and having 
 left four knights in Roncesvalles to guard the dead, he 
 set out after the foemen. 
 
 Hard and fast rode the host, and came upon the 
 Moors in a field, where they were hemmed in by a wide 
 river on one side and the Franks on the other. And 
 there Charlemagne cut the pagan army to pieces ; none 
 escaped save only Marsilius and a few of his followers, 
 who had gone by a different way into Saragossa. Nor 
 did he escape for long ; for after Charles had returned 
 to Roncesvalles to bury his dead, he returned to 
 Saragossa and slew King Marsilius, and broke down 
 the gates of the city and took possession of all Spain. 
 
 Thus was the death of Roland in the valley of 
 Roncesvalles avenged. As for the traitor Ganelon, he 
 was torn to pieces by wild horses, for that he had done 
 the deadliest sin of all, and had betrayed his master's 
 host and the fair land of France into the hands of the 
 enemy.
 
 THE FIFTH STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF WILLIAM AND 
 THE WERWOLF 
 
 (From the French of William of Palenne) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 HOW WILLIAM WAS CARRIED OFF 
 
 THERE once lived in the land of Apulia a certain 
 king whose name was Embrons, and whose wife 
 was the daughter of the Emperor of Greece. At the 
 time this story begins they had one son, a little lad of 
 four years old, whose name was William. He was a 
 very beautiful child in those days, and dearly loved by 
 his father and mother. And in order that he might be 
 well looked after in every way, he was put into the 
 charge of two ladies of the Court, who seemed to be 
 everything that his parents could desire. 
 
 Now King Embrons had a very wicked brother, who 
 had a strong desire to reign in his stead. To that end 
 he made a plot to poison both the King and his son ; 
 and this plot he set on foot by persuading the two 
 ladies who were his attendants to put an end to the 
 little Prince. 
 
 One day the King, the Queen, and their little son 
 William, as they were making a stay at the town of 
 Palermo, happened to enter a beautiful orchard, sur- 
 rounded by a high wall. But, although they had no 
 idea of it, this place was infested with dangerous wild 
 beasts. 
 
 The child William had begun to gather flowers, and 
 was sporting about from path to path, when, before the 
 
 56
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 57 
 
 very eyes of the parents, a huge wolf leapt in at 
 the open gate, plunged through the bushes, and as 
 they, horror-stricken, ran aside to avoid it, snatched up 
 the child in his mouth and noiselessly made off. 
 
 A terrible cry arose from the Queen as she saw her 
 darling disappear. The King, half mad with grief, sent 
 for horses, and galloped off in the direction the wolf 
 had taken, and was quickly followed by almost all the 
 inhabitants of the town. 
 
 Harder and harder rode the King, but the wolf, with 
 his great leaps and bounds, travelled faster still, and 
 though he often heard the wails of the terrified boy, 
 the King could not overtake him. 
 
 At length they approached the Straits of Messina, 
 and caught sight of the wolf standing at the brink of 
 the water. 
 
 There they made sure they would seize him, but, to 
 their dismay, the creature leapt into the water and soon 
 was lost to sight. 
 
 Very sad and sorrowful was King Embrons as he 
 returned to Palermo city, which was filled with lamenta- 
 tion and woe for the loss of the Prince. The Queen 
 mourned for him all day long, saying, " Little son, 
 sweet love, tender lips, rosy colour, who would believe 
 that beast could drown you ? Where are now thy 
 beautiful eyes, so innocent and clear, thy fair forehead, 
 thy hair like fine-drawn gold ? What is become of 
 thee ? Now art thou food for that horrible wolf" 
 
 Meantime the wolf had carried the child in his 
 mouth both by day and by night without a pause, until 
 he reached a great forest in the neighbourhood of 
 Rome. There, being by this time very weary, he rested 
 for eight days, providing the boy the while with every- 
 thing he could possibly need for his comfort. First he 
 made a den, hidden away among thick green bushes, 
 and lined it with grass and ferns. Then each day 
 he brought him food, bread and meat, from some
 
 58 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 mysterious source, and all night long he lay close 
 beside him, so that the child could nestle against his 
 shaggy coat and be kept quite warm. By this time 
 William had quite laid aside all his terror of the gentle 
 creature, and was well pleased to be carried about and 
 tended by him. 
 
 Then one day the wolf set off to seek for food, leav- 
 ing the boy safe and happy in his shady den. 
 
 Now there lived in the forest an old cowherd, who, 
 on that selfsame day, happened to sit down near the 
 wolfs den, in order to mend his shoe. Meantime the 
 little boy within had grown weary of being left alone, 
 and looking out, he saw bushes and trees so green and 
 fair in the May sunshine and heard birds singing so 
 lustily, that he crept out and began to play and to 
 gather flowers. 
 
 But the cowherd's dog quickly spied him and began 
 to bark and leap up at him. At this William, scream- 
 ing with fright, ran back to the den ; but the cowherd 
 had heard the noise of the child, and following the dog, 
 came to the opening of the place ; and inside, as he 
 peeped, he saw a beautiful little boy richly dressed in 
 cloth of gold. 
 
 Greatly wondering at this, the cowherd rebuked the 
 dog for his noise and tried to persuade the little one to 
 come out. He offered him flowers and apples and all 
 such things as children love, and at length William 
 crept out of the cave and ran up to him. Then the 
 cowherd took him in his arm, kissed him and thanked 
 God that he had found so beautiful a treasure, and 
 carried him home to his wife. 
 
 " What is your name, pretty one ? " he asked ; and the 
 child replied, " I am called William." 
 
 Now the cowherd and his wife had no children, which 
 grieved them very much, so that they gladly received 
 the boy, and determined to adopt him for their own. 
 
 Meantime the wolf returned to the den, carrying
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 59 
 
 food for the child ; but when he entered he found it 
 empty as a last year's nest. Overcome with grief, he 
 howled aloud, rent his skin, and fell down in a kind 
 of fit. 
 
 When he recovered he began to examine the ground 
 very carefully until he found the track of the cowherd, 
 and following it up, soon came to a small cottage. 
 
 Creeping up to the tiny window, he looked through 
 and saw the cowherd's wife sitting with the thild on 
 her lap, bathing him and giving him sweet milk for his 
 supper. When he saw this and knew how well they 
 were caring for the child, the wolf turned aside and 
 went upon his lonely way. 
 
 Now this animal, as you may have guessed, was no 
 ordinary one, but was indeed a " werwolf," that is to 
 say, a man changed into a beast. 
 
 He was the son of the King of Spain, and his real 
 name was Prince Alphonso. When his mother died, 
 his father, the King, had married a lady named Braunde, 
 a princess indeed, but also a witch. 
 
 Now Braunde was jealous of the beauty and good- 
 ness of Prince Alphonso, and fearing that her own child 
 would never be king, she plotted to work harm to her 
 stepson. So she made a very powerful ointment, and 
 with this she anointed him one day, with the result that 
 he became a werwolf Yet his heart remained that of 
 a man, tender and kind, so that he suffered all the more. 
 At first he tried to spring on Braunde and kill her, that 
 she might do no similar injury to his father; but she 
 cried to the servants to help her ^'gainst a fierce beast. 
 At that the werwolf fled away to the land of Apulia, 
 and Braunde told his father that Alphonso had been 
 drowned by accident as he was bathing.
 
 60 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE TWO WHITE BEARS 
 
 THE wife of the cowherd treated William with the 
 greatest kindness, so that he grew up happy and 
 healthy as a child should be. He learnt to shoot well, 
 to bring home plenty of rabbits and hares for supper, 
 and to know the ways of all animals in sickness and in 
 health. Sports, too, he had in plenty with the children 
 of neighbouring cowherds, and his generous spirit soon 
 made him a great favourite with all. 
 
 Now one day the Emperor of Rome was hunting a 
 great boar in that forest, and it so happened that he 
 lost his way and went riding along looking for some one 
 to direct him. Suddenly he saw in front of him a 
 werwolf chasing a deer, and so rode hard after them, 
 hoping to kill one or both. But the animals dis- 
 appeared in the undergrowth, and in their place he saw 
 in the pathway a very noble-looking boy, so fair to look 
 upon that the Emperor said to himself, " Surely this 
 child has come from fairyland ! " 
 
 Pulling up his horse, he asked the boy his name, and 
 who were his kith and kin. And William, for he it was, 
 replied that he knew not who they were, but that he 
 lived with a cowherd and his wife, whom he dearly 
 loved. 
 
 Then the Emperor sent for the cowherd, who came in 
 fear, knowing what the end might be. 
 
 "Is the child yours?" asked the Emperor; and so 
 the old man told him the whole story, saying that none 
 knew from whence he came. 
 
 " Then the boy shall go with me," said the Emperor. 
 
 Deeply grieved was the cowherd at these words, but 
 he dared not refuse, though he cared little for the 
 Emperor's promise to reward him, when he thought of
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 6l 
 
 losing the child. Calling William aside, he bade him 
 farewell, and gave him three pieces of advice. 
 
 First, to be no teller of tales. 
 
 Second, to always take the part of a poor man. 
 
 Third, to be always faithful and fair of speech. 
 
 Then he set William upon the Emperor's horse, so 
 that the boy in his pleasure at riding so high forgot to 
 grieve at parting from him. 
 
 So the Emperor rode away with William, and the 
 cowherd returned with the news to his wife, who wept 
 and \rould not be comforted because she had lost the 
 child. 
 
 The Emperor of Rome had one fair daughter named 
 Melior, to whom he brought young William, saying, 
 " Here is a rich present I found for thee in the forest!" 
 Then they took the boy and dressed him in beautiful 
 clothes, and he became Melior's squire. As he grew 
 older and came to man's estate, he so far excelled the 
 rest of the youth of Rome in looks and manners, as 
 well as in courage, that the young Princess fell very 
 deeply in love with him and he with her. But knowing 
 how angry the Emperor would be if his daughter 
 married any one but a king, or at least a prince, they 
 were forced to plight their troth to one another in 
 secret. 
 
 In those days the Duke of Saxony made war on 
 Rome, and m this war William fought so well that he 
 was made a knight. Soon after he had conquered the 
 Duke and taken him prisoner, an embassy appeared 
 from Greece asking that a marriage might be arranged 
 between Melior and the son of the Emperor of that 
 land. 
 
 A great assembly was held, at which the two em- 
 perors met and talked about the matter, and agreed 
 that the wedding should be held as soon as possible. 
 But the Princess and William were filled with dismay 
 when they heard what was proposed ; and after much
 
 62 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 thought they decided that the only thing to be done 
 was to run away from the palace and to keep in hiding 
 till all idea of the marriage was over. The great 
 difficulty was how to get out of the city unseen. 
 
 With the help of Melior's waiting-maid they deter- 
 mined to disguise themselves as animals. There had 
 been a great hunt that day, and the maid was able 
 easily to procure the skins of two white bears, in which 
 5he sewed each of them up. That same evening, there- 
 fore, two grizzly bears were seen to pass into the belt of 
 forest that lay near the palace ; but no one guessed for 
 a moment who they really were. 
 
 For many hours they wandered through this forest, 
 until they were too tired to stand upright, and sank 
 down exhausted with fatigue and want of food under- 
 neath a tree. Now, although they knew it not, the 
 werwolf had watched and followed them all the way, 
 and seeing their condition, he now galloped off to find 
 food. Presently, on a highway near the forest, he came 
 upon a man who carried some bread and some boiled 
 beef in a bag. In a flash the werwolf sprang upon him, 
 seized the bag and made off with it. Hurrying back to 
 the two fugitives, he laid the bag before them, and dis- 
 appeared before William could exclaim in astonishment 
 at seeing him again. 
 
 Presently, as they were joyfully eating, he appeared 
 before them again, dropped two flagons of wine at their 
 feet, and ran away once more. In this way, by dint of 
 carrying off food from travellers and bringing it to them, 
 the werwolf kept Melior and William excellently fed. 
 But still they had to be very careful. They slept 
 generally in the daytime, and travelled by night, going 
 on all fours that they might not betray the fact that 
 they were human beings. 
 
 Meantime, when he heard of their escape, the anger 
 of the Emperor knew no bounds. He sent men out in 
 every direction to hunt for them, but they could nowhere
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 63 
 
 be found. Most of his men were glad this was so, 
 for they could not endure to think that William, whom 
 they all loved, should be in danger at the Emperor's 
 hands. At length the latter, who feared that the 
 Greeks would make war upon him because the marriage 
 had not been accomplished, heard that two bears had 
 been seen escaping from the garden on the very night 
 that two skins were missing from the kitchen. Hounds 
 were sent out at once to track them down ; but as the 
 animals got on their scent, the werwolf suddenly 
 appeared before them in the way. Immediately they 
 followed him, and were led by him a long distance 
 in quite a different direction from that which the fugi- 
 tives had taken. Then, having thrown them completely 
 off the scent, the werwolf slipped away and returned to 
 Melior and William. 
 
 He next made the lovers understand that they must 
 now follow him as their guide. At first they had been 
 terrified at his appearance, but his constant kindness in 
 providing them with food had quite won their hearts, 
 and they now trusted him completely. So he brought 
 them into the land of Apulia, where, finding they were 
 near an ancient city, they hid themselves in a quarry 
 and slept there, while the werwolf kept guard. 
 
 When morning dawned, the Werwolf went off to find 
 food ; and during his absence, some workmen came to 
 the quarry and found therein two white bears fast asleep. 
 They at once remembered the hue and cry raised by the 
 Emperor of Rome, and, without waking them, went off 
 to the provost of the town and told him of their 
 discovery. 
 
 The provost guessed directly who they were, and 
 calling together a large band of men and horses, set off 
 for the quarry, taking with him his little son to sec the 
 fray. 
 
 Meantime the fugitives had roused themselves, and 
 looking towards the city, they saw a number of horsemen
 
 64 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 riding in the direction of the quarry. Filled with 
 alarm, they hurried away, but when he found that 
 their shouting pursuers were gaining fast upon them, 
 William begged Melior to show herself in her proper 
 form, so that no harm might befall her. This, how- 
 ever, she refused to do, as she knew that William 
 might be killed, and so she declared that she would die 
 with him. 
 
 Just at that minute the werwolf appeared on 
 the scene. With one bound he sprang upon the pro- 
 vost's horse, and snatching at the child who was in 
 front of him, ran off with it in his mouth. At once the 
 whole attention of the troop was turned upon the wolf, 
 and all of the men followed the provost, who galloped 
 hard after the animal, forgetting the very existence of 
 the two white bears. 
 
 All day long the werwolf kept them in pursuit, 
 sometimes appearing at the top of a hill, sometimes lost 
 to sight on the other side. The screams of the boy 
 spurred on the father still faster to his rescue, but not 
 until they were many a long mile from the two disguised 
 lovers did the wolf pause. Then he dropped the child 
 gently on the ground where the horsemen would be 
 sure to find him, and galloped off on a side-track to 
 William and Melior. 
 
 They, meantime, had travelled fast and far from that 
 dangerous region, and had taken off their bearskins to 
 avoid discovery. At evening-time, when they were 
 quite exhausted, the werwolf appeared before them 
 carrying a bag of food in his mouth. He too was so 
 worn out with fatigue, that he lay down near them 
 under a tree and at once fell fast asleep.
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 65 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE HART AND 
 THE HIND 
 
 THIS last adventure had ended in such a narrow 
 escape for William and Melior that they began 
 to consider what safer means of disguise they could 
 contrive, now that most people knew the secret of the 
 two white bears. 
 
 While they were thinking it over, the werwolf, who 
 had gone away at daylight, appeared again before 
 them, dragging behind him the body of a fresh-killed 
 hart of very unusual size. As they stood wondering 
 at it, he disappeared again, to return ere long with a 
 large dead hind. Then, sitting back on his haunches, 
 he gazed eagerly at them until at length they under- 
 stood his plan. At once they skinned the creatures 
 and sewed each other up in the skins, after which they 
 went their way disguised as hart and hind. 
 
 The werwolf now became their guide over William's 
 native country, though the latter little knew it at the 
 time. At that period the land all lay waste because of 
 the great war. For during the last few years Embrons, 
 William's father. King of Apulia and Sicily, had died, 
 and his wife, William's mother, ruled the land. Mean- 
 time William's only sister Florence, just three years 
 younger than himself, had grown up to a fair maiden- 
 hood, and had been sought in marriage by the son of 
 the King of Spain. 
 
 Now this young man was the werwolf's stepbrother. 
 When he found that Florence would have nothing to 
 say to him, the King of Spain invaded the country and 
 besieged the Queen in the Sicilian town of Palermo. 
 
 Now the Queen was very sad, for she had neither 
 husband nor son to advise and help her. So she asked 
 S
 
 66 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 the invaders to grant her a truce of fourteen days, at 
 the end of which time she promised to surrender the 
 town on condition that she and her daughter might 
 depart in safety. But in her own heart she hoped and 
 trusted that before the end of the appointed time, help 
 would come from her father the Emperor of Greece. 
 
 The King of Spain, however, refused to grant her 
 conditions ; so she and the Princess Florence retired to 
 their palace in great doubt and distress. 
 
 Meanwhile the werwolf had guided the hart and 
 the hind to Reggio, where, in order to reach Sicily, 
 they would be obliged to cross the Straits. They lay 
 hidden till nightfall, but when all was dark they made 
 their way down to the ships in the harbour, and there 
 the werwolf, creeping quietly hither and thither, found 
 one ready to sail, on board of which all the sailors were 
 asleep. 
 
 Very quietly they crept on board and hid themselves 
 behind casks of wine. Presently the wind began to 
 rise, the sailors awoke and set sail, and the ship raced 
 merrily over the waves. At dawn they were close to 
 the shores of Sicily, and when he saw this, the werwolf 
 sprang from his hiding-place, leapt across the deck, and 
 disappeared over the side. 
 
 The sailors, greatly excited, seized their oars and 
 struck at him ; one, indeed, hit him so hard that he sank 
 to the bottom, but quickly recovering himself, he rose 
 again to the surface and swam ashore. 
 
 The men immediately threw out a plank to the 
 landing-place and ran after him, leaving only a bare- 
 legged boy on board. Now all this had been carefully 
 planned by the werwolf to distract the attention of 
 the seamen from William and Melior, who now came 
 up on deck. But the bare-legged boy was terrified to 
 see a hart and a hind walking upright upon their hind- 
 legs, and in his dismay he struck at Melior with an oar, 
 so that she would have fallen overboard had not
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 67 
 
 William caught her in his arms and carried her ashore. 
 Once there, they hastened to find a hiding-place, and 
 as they hurried along, much disturbed in mind, they 
 said one to the other, " May no harm have come to our 
 beloved werwolf ! " 
 
 Before long, however, the werwolf, safe and sound, 
 was with them once again, but only in order to warn 
 them of approaching danger. For the bare-legged boy 
 had been so astounded to see the hart pick up the 
 hind and run off with her, that he had told the sailors 
 of his strange experience on their return, and so every 
 one was on the look out for them. Therefore they left 
 the neighbourhood in haste and followed the werwolf 
 to Palermo, the very same place from which William, as 
 a tiny boy, had been carried off by the werwolf. 
 
 It was in this city of Palermo, you will remember, 
 that the mother and sister of William were being be- 
 sieged by the King of Spain. 
 
 That night, and for several others, the hart and the 
 hind lay hidden in a park close by the palace, and the 
 werwolf brought them meat and drink. 
 
 The first night on which they there lay hidden, the 
 Queen-mother of William had a curious dream. She 
 thought she was walking in the park with her daughter, 
 when she saw, fighting with one another, a hundred 
 thousand leopards and bears. Then there came a wer- 
 wolf and two white bears and attacked the leopards, but 
 suddenly the white bears changed into a hart and a 
 hind wearing golden crowns. By this time the 
 leopards, being conquered, had fled away. Then, in 
 her dream, she went up to a high turret in the palace, and 
 stretched her right arm over Rome, her left over Spain. 
 
 When the Queen awoke, she sent for a wise man and 
 asked him what might be the meaning of the dream. 
 And after much thought the wise man answered and 
 said, " There shall come a knight who shall be king of 
 this realm ; and a werwolf shall deliver the King
 
 ()8 STORIES FROxM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 of Spain from a great danger. Through that same 
 werwolf you shall hear of your long-lost son, who shall 
 also govern Rome ; and your daughter shall be Queen 
 of Spain." 
 
 These words gave the Queen much to think about, 
 and as she sat gazing from her chamber window, deep 
 in reflection, she caught a glimpse of a hart and a 
 hind at the edge of the forest. To her great surprise, 
 she saw the clothes of human beings peeping out through 
 holes in their skin, for the sun, blazing fiercely upon 
 them, had cracked their hides. 
 
 Much alarmed, the Queen again sent for the wise 
 man, who had not yet left the palace, and asked him 
 if he knew what this strange thing meant. 
 
 And the wise man, soothing her terror, told her that 
 these were two runaway lovers, fled from Rome, and 
 that it would be greatly to her advantage if she would 
 bring them in secret to the palace. 
 
 To this the Queen at once agreed, and, sending to the 
 kitchen for the skin of a newly killed hind, she dressed 
 herself in it and crept down to the park. She was able 
 to get quite near them before they noticed her among 
 the deer always grazing in that spot ; and she heard 
 William say how much he wished that the Queen knew 
 that he was a knight of Rome, and that she would 
 provide him with a horse and armour, that he might 
 fight in her cause. 
 
 At this the Queen presented herself before them, 
 saying she knew who they were, and implored William 
 to help her in her distress, promising that if he would 
 conquer her enemies he should be king and Melior 
 queen. 
 
 Very gladly did William agree to do all in his power 
 for her, though he little knew that she was his own 
 mother ; and forthwith they followed her to the castle, 
 where the Queen stripped off their hides and herself pre- 
 pared fragrant baths and rich clothes for their use. When
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 69 
 
 they came forth into her bower much refreshed, the 
 Queen was considering what device William should 
 bear upon his shield. They consulted together, and 
 William decided that it should be the figure of a 
 werwolf. 
 
 Then the Queen gave orders that her husband's 
 horse, upon which no man had ridden since his death, 
 should be brought out for him into the courtyard. And 
 thereupon a strange thing occurred ; for the horse 
 remembered William, whom everybody else had for- 
 gotten, and knelt down before him as he approached 
 and stood at his side. And at this all the people 
 wondered greatly. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 HOW THE DREAM OF THE QUEEN CAME TRUE 
 
 WHEN all was ready for the conflict with the 
 King of Spain, William, dressed as a knight, 
 rode at the head of the troops of Palermo, encouraging 
 them with brave words ; and he was the first to strike a 
 blow. 
 
 Now the Spaniards who were against him were thirty 
 thousand strong, and those who fought for the Queen 
 of Palermo but few in number. Yet, encouraged by 
 their leader, they fought most bravely, and before long 
 the Spanish steward, a man of high rank and im- 
 portance, fell before William's onslaught. 
 
 Still more fiercely raged the fight, and presently 
 William found himself face to face with the nephew of 
 the slain steward, in single combat. At length he too 
 was overcome, for William struck him dead to the 
 ground and sent his horse to Mclior as a present. By 
 this time the Spaniards had lost so many of their 
 warriors that the rest of them turned and fled.
 
 70 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Then was there great rejoicing at the palace for i 
 while. But while William and Melior were sitting a 
 a window in the Queen's bower and resting after th( 
 conflict, there appeared the werwolf just outside, whc 
 held up his forefeet as if in prayer, bowed to William 
 and then ran quickly away. The Queen, much surprised 
 asked the reason of this strange thing, but all Willian 
 could tell her was that to them it was a sign of good. 
 
 The sight of the werwolf recalled to the Queen the 
 story of her little son, and with tears she told it ti 
 William and Melior, saying that she had been tolc 
 that in the end the poor child had been drowned. Thi; 
 story reminded William that he himself had been founc 
 in a forest and that he had been brought thither in r 
 mysterious fashion, but since the Queen was sure hei 
 son had been drowned, he would not recall her grief b} 
 talking about it, and only promised to be a son to her ii 
 his place. 
 
 The son of the King of Spain now vowed vengeance 
 upon William for his defeat ; and since he knew tha 
 the mishaps of Spain were entirely due to him, h( 
 declared that he would have the head of the man whc 
 bore the device of the werwolf on his shield, or takt 
 him alive as his prisoner. 
 
 Once more they met in single combat ; but before 
 long William had unhorsed the Prince and woulc 
 have struck off his head had not the Spaniards rushec 
 forward to his rescue. Then a deadly conflict followed 
 in which William's troops began to retreat, but once 
 more their leader managed to seize the Spanish Prince 
 and to bring him into the town as captive. Then wa; 
 there again great rejoicing in the palace, where all the 
 ladies-in-waiting hastened to disarm the prisoner. Bu- 
 William hurried to join Melior and the Queen, and wa; 
 in the act of embracing his wife when the Queen wa: 
 struck of a sudden with his likeness to Embrons, he: 
 dead husband.
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 71 
 
 The remembrance made her weep, and her heart 
 began to cry out that William was her son ; but he, not 
 knowing what was in her mind, strove to cheer her 
 with descriptions of the victory. And as they talked 
 together, once again the werwolf came up to the 
 window, knelt and bowed, and went his way. 
 
 Now when the King of Spain heard that his son was 
 taken prisoner, he was filled with wrath ; and especially 
 did his anger flame out when he knew that all was 
 owing to the prowess of one knight, that one who bore 
 a werwolf on his shield. Then he decreed : " He shall 
 be taken and hanged before the city gates, and the city 
 shall be burnt." 
 
 So the two armies were reassembled, and William 
 addressed his troops in these words : " To-day shall see 
 the end of this warfare, for God will defend the right. 
 My work shall be to take the King prisoner, as I have 
 already done his son. See that you do your part." 
 
 The King, on the other side, said, " Where is he who 
 bears the werwolf on his shield? Whosoever brincrs 
 him to me shall be made my chief steward." 
 
 Then the fight began, and soon a Spanish soldier 
 managed to wound William, but was killed by him 
 before he could do him further hurt. Before long the 
 Spaniards began to give way, while many threw down 
 their weapons and ran for their lives. 
 
 But William and his troops pursued after them, and 
 in the confusion the King was taken and brought back 
 in triumph to the palace. Then was the relief and joy 
 of the Queen so great that she would have knelt before 
 William to give him thanks, had he not caught her up, 
 saying that an Emperor's daughter must not kneel to a 
 plain soldier. 
 
 A great banquet was then made ready. On one side 
 of the Queen was placed the King of Spain, and William 
 on the other. Then the Spanish Prince was brought in, 
 and before he would seat himself at meat, both he and his
 
 72 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 father confessed that they had treated the Queen very 
 ill in thus besieging her, and offered to make amends 
 by holding their lands in future only as her tenants, or 
 by doing anything else she pleased. 
 
 While she was giving them gracious and kindly 
 answer, the door of the hall suddenly opened ; the wer- 
 wolf entered, and going up to the raised platform where 
 they sat, kissed the feet of the King of Spain, bowed 
 to the Queen, to William, and to the young Prince, and 
 A^ent his way. 
 
 Upon this the servants, who had hitherto stood 
 motionless with astonishment and fear, snatched up 
 their weapons and made as though they would destroy 
 the animal; but they were promptly stopped by William, 
 who declared that if any one hurt the werwolf he 
 would kill him with his own hands. 
 
 The sight of the werwolf at once recalled to the 
 mind of the King of Spain the story of the fair young 
 son who, his wife had declared, was drowned. And as 
 he sat thus plunged in thought, William asked him 
 why he sat so silent in the midst of the feast ; to which 
 he made answer, " Once on a time I wedded a fair lady, 
 and to us was born a sweet son, whom we named 
 Alphonso. But my wife died and I married again, 
 a lady lovely to look upon and learned withal, and our 
 son was the Prince who sits before you. But this lady 
 had an evil mind, and because of her jealousy towards 
 her young stepson she changed him into a werwolf, who 
 soon afterwards, she told me, had been drowned in the 
 sea. Now when this animal came before me and kissed 
 my feet, I was filled with a strange and strong desire to 
 embrace him ; so that I would fain believe that he may 
 be my son after all, though my wife assured me that he 
 was drowned." 
 
 " For my part," said William, " I firmly believe that 
 your suspicion is really the truth, for the wolf has from 
 the first shown the mind of a good and noble man.
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 73 
 
 Now if your wife is wise in witchcraft she can surely 
 turn him into a man again. Until this is done therefore 
 you shall neither of you be set free. Send at once and 
 bid the Queen come hither, or I will myself fetch her 
 by force." 
 
 So the King sent a company of his lords with an 
 urgent message to the Queen of Spain. But when she 
 heard that the King wanted her to turn a werwolf into a 
 man, and that only thus could her husband's release be 
 earned, she fell into a deep swoon. On her recovery 
 she set off for Palermo with a great company, and was 
 met at the entrance gates of the city by the Queen and 
 William, together with her husband the King and the 
 Prince of Spain her son. 
 
 They brought her to the hall and led her to a seat on 
 the dais, where she sat with the King and Prince of 
 Spain, the Queen of Palermo and her daughter Flor- 
 ence, and also with Melior and William, while a great 
 banquet was made ready. Meantime the werwolf had 
 been brought by William into his own bedchamber, 
 which opened out of the hall ; but when the animal 
 heard the voice of the Queen of Spain, he rushed into 
 the hall, the bristles rising on his neck and back, and 
 flew at her with howls, snapping with his teeth. 
 
 She, on her part, screamed for help, and before all 
 that company confessed that she had deserved death 
 and begged for life. 
 
 Then William caught the werwolf by the neck and 
 drew him back, saying, " Trust me, dear beast. For 
 your sake alone I sent for her. And now unless she 
 takes the enchantment off you, she shall be burnt as a 
 witch ; so do her no harm in the meantime." 
 
 And the werwolf kissed William's feet and was glad 
 because of his words. 
 
 Then the Queen of Spain rose up and came and 
 knelt before the werwolf, saying, " Sweet Alphonso, 
 the people shall soon see thy handsome face again
 
 74 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Now therefore spare my life, though I have sinned 
 greatly against thee." 
 
 So when William had joined her in asking that 
 mercy might be shown, the werwolf consented to 
 forgive her if she would give him back his proper 
 form. 
 
 Going into a private room, the Queen drew forth 
 a magic ring in which was a stone against which no 
 witchcraft could avail ; this she tied by a red silk thread 
 round the werwolf's neck. Then, opening a book of 
 magic spells, she read them over him ; and then, all in 
 a moment, he turned into a man again. With great 
 delight William took him, bathed him, and dressed him 
 in royal clothes ; and when this was done he embraced 
 William warmly, saying, " I am that werwolf who 
 saved you from so many perils " ; and William returned 
 his embrace with the deepest affection. 
 
 When Prince Alphonso returned to the hall, looking 
 now like a very noble knight, he gave them all courteous 
 greeting, and bade them tell him the origin of the war 
 which was the cause of their trouble. 
 
 So they told him all the story, and when they had 
 ended he laid his hand on William's shoulder, and 
 turning to the assembly, said — 
 
 " Lords and ladies, you will be surprised to hear that 
 this young knight, who has remedied all your woes, has 
 brought also help and safety to his own mother ! " 
 
 Then was there amazement among the company, and 
 one asked another, " What means he by this saying ? " 
 
 So Alphonso said, " I was the werwolf who carried 
 off young William as a child to save him from the plots 
 of his wicked uncle, who had bribed his two nurses to 
 poison him." 
 
 When he had told them the whole story, William, 
 filled with gratitude towards Alphonso, implored him to 
 ask for some reward for all his tender care. 
 
 So Prince Alphonso, who had long loved in secret the
 
 STORY OF WILLIAM AND THE WERWOLF 75 
 
 Princess Florence, the sister of William, asked that he 
 might be permitted to pay his court to her, and if she 
 were willing, to become her husband. 
 
 This was gladly granted, and soon the joyful tidings 
 of William's return were spread far and wide through- 
 out the land. And first there came to William those 
 wicked ladies who would have poisoned him as a child, 
 dressed in sackcloth and begging for mercy, which he 
 granted them on condition that they would go and live 
 in a hermitage for the rest of their lives. 
 
 Then messengers were sent to the Emperor of Rome, 
 asking him to come to Palermo for the grand celebra- 
 tion of his daughter Melior's wedding-feast. 
 
 On that joyful occasion the Princess Florence was 
 also married to Alphonso, once a werwolf; and among 
 the most honoured guests were the poor cowherd and his 
 wife, who had been William's foster-parents, to whom 
 he now gave a fine castle, and made the old man an 
 earl and his wife a countess. 
 
 As the years passed on the Emperor of Rome, 
 Melior's father, died, and William became Emperor in 
 his stead, and ruled his kingdom well. Alphonso, too, 
 in time became King of Spain; and thus was the Queen- 
 mother's dream fulfilled ; for William, her right arm, 
 was Emperor of Rome, and Florence, her left, was 
 Queen of Spain. 
 
 And so the story of William and the werwolf comes 
 to an end.
 
 THE SIXTH STORY 
 
 THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED 
 KNIGHT 
 
 (From the Epic of Charlemagne) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 HOW OGIER THE DANE BECAME A KNIGHT 
 
 IN the golden days when Charlemagne lived and 
 ruled upon the earth there reigned over Denmark 
 a certain King named Godfrey. And it so fell out that 
 the wife of this King Godfrey died when her little son 
 Ogier was born, so that the women-in-waiting took him 
 from her dead arms and laid him in a silken cradle in 
 pleasant chamber of the castle. 
 
 Now as the child Ogier lay there, quietly sleeping, 
 there entered the room and drew near the cradle six 
 beautiful fairies, each bringing a gift to console the 
 motherless babe for his loss. 
 
 The first took the child in her arms, and kissing his 
 brow, said, " My gift is to make you the bravest and 
 strongest knight of your day." 
 
 The second said, " I will see to it that you have the 
 chance of many battles to fight." 
 
 " And I grant that you shall always be the conqueror 
 of your foes," cried the third. 
 
 " My gift to you is gentleness and courtesy," said the 
 fourth. 
 
 " And mine that you shall be dear to all women and 
 happy in your love," said the fifth. 
 
 76
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 77 
 
 But Morgan le Fay, who was the Queen of Fairyland, 
 held him long in her embrace before she spoke at all, 
 and then she said, " Dear child, there remains little for 
 me to give after these promises that my sisters have 
 made to you. Yet this I can grant : never shall you 
 see death like other men, but when you have finished 
 a noble life on earth you shall be mine for ever in 
 Avalon, the Islands of the Bk^t." • 
 
 With these words the people of Fairyland flitted 
 from the room and vanished. 
 
 Now, when this child Ogier had grown to be a 
 handsome boy of ten years old, there came messengers 
 to his father's Court from the Emperor Charlemagne, 
 who bade the King of Denmark appear before him to 
 do homage for his lands. But the proud King Godfrey 
 sent answer back, " Tell Charles I hold my lands by 
 right of my own sword ; and if he doubt it, let him 
 come and see. For never to him will Godfrey the Dane 
 do homage." 
 
 Then Charlemagne came up against the rebellious 
 King of Denmark with all his mighty host, and pre- 
 vailed against him. And Godfrey was forced to 
 promise that at Easter each year he would appear 
 before him to do homage, but as a pledge that he would 
 keep his word the Emperor made demand that his son, 
 young Ogier, should be given up to him as a hostage. 
 So when Godfrey had made unwilling agreement, the 
 boy Ogier was carried off to the Emperor's Court and 
 became one of Charlemagne's favourite pages. 
 
 For three years running did Godfrey of Denmark 
 appear faithfully at the Frankish Court to do homage 
 for his lands, but after that time he failed to come and 
 was seen there no more. For he, meantime, had mar- 
 ried another wife and had now another son ; and his 
 wife had persuaded him to break his pledge to Charle- 
 magne, saying within herself as he did so, " When the 
 Emperor hears that he refuses to pay homage, then will
 
 78 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 he put Ogier to death, and my son shall thereupon be 
 heir to the throne of Denmark." 
 
 Now, according to custom, when Godfrey failed to 
 appear at the appointed time, the hostage Ogier was 
 thrown into prison, in the castle of St. Omer, until they 
 should find out why his father the King of Denmark 
 had broken faith. But the keeper of the castle, and 
 his wife, and her fair daughter Bellisande, loved young 
 Ogier from the moment they set eyes upon him, and 
 instead of casting him into a dungeon, they placed him 
 in the finest rooms, richly furnished and covered with 
 tapestry, and treated him like a prince. 
 
 Meantime the messengers of Charlemagne had 
 arrived in Denmark, where they met a cruel fate. For 
 Godfrey, unmindful of his son as of his broken faith, 
 slit their ears and noses, shaved their heads, and sent 
 them back disgraced. 
 
 Filled with anger, these men appeared in shameful 
 wise at Charlemagne's Court, crying aloud for ven- 
 geance upon Godfrey of Denmark and upon Ogier 
 his son. 
 
 So the Emperor, bearing of their woes, sent word to 
 the castle of St. Omer, saying that Ogier must die. 
 
 Then was the keeper of that castle full of grief for 
 young Ogier, and made special petition to Charlemagne 
 that at least the lad might appear before him at his 
 Court and be told why he must die. So one day, as 
 Charlemagne was making festival with his nobles, came 
 the handsome youth, tall and fair-haired, with the 
 keen blue eyes of the North, and kneeling at the 
 Emperor's footstool, laid his young head low on the 
 ground before him in abasement for his father's pride 
 and periidy. 
 
 Then was the great heart of Charlemagne stirred with 
 pity and compassion, and he would fain have spared the 
 boy's life ; but the messengers, hot for vengeance, cried 
 out upon him and would fain have slain Ogier as he knelt
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 79 
 
 there, had not Duke Naymes, that mighty lord of the 
 Franks, withstood them. 
 
 Meantime the lad himself stood humbly before the 
 Emperor and said, " Sire, you know that I have always 
 rendered you willing obedience and am not really to 
 blame for my father's fault. Grant me my life, there- 
 fore, and I will atone for his broken faith by devoting 
 my days henceforth to your service. As for these 
 messengers, to them also I will atone, not by my death, 
 but by a life of devotion to you, if you will but use me 
 as your own." 
 
 Then all the barons who stood round began to inter- 
 cede with the King on behalf of the lad ; and while they 
 strove with him and with the messengers, there rode a 
 knight in haste into the hall, crying, " Tidings, ill-tidings, 
 my lord ! The Saracens, with the Grand Turk and 
 Dannemont his son, aided by Caraheu, Emperor of 
 India, have taken Rome by storm and put to flight 
 Pope, cardinals, legates, and all. The churches are 
 destroyed, the Christians put to death ; and now the 
 Holy Father calls upon you, as Christian king and 
 Champion of Christendom, to march to the aid of the 
 Church." 
 
 Up then sprang Duke Naymes, and kneeling before 
 Charlemagne, prayed him to let him be the first to start 
 on the expedition against the Saracens, and to give him 
 the lad Ogier to be his squire. 
 
 " And what if he should flee away to his own land ? " 
 asked the Emperor. 
 
 " Then," replied the Duke, " 1 will give up both my 
 lands and my liberty, and go as prisoner in his stead." 
 
 So the Emperor gave his leave, and all the barons of 
 his Court hastened away with him to prepare for the 
 coming conflict. But though Duke Naymes was eager 
 to be the first in the fight, he gave leave to Ogier to 
 hasten to the castle of St. Omcr that he might say fare- 
 well to those who had been his benefactors. And there
 
 in haste was Ogier married to the fair Bellisande, who 
 loved him so tenderly. Sad indeed was she at so 
 sudden a departure, but Ogier comforted her, saying, 
 " Weep not, my dear one, for God hath given me life, 
 and thou hast given me love ; and these two gifts will 
 be my strength in the day of battle." 
 
 Then Ogier rode away with Duke Naymes and his 
 companions ; and they, marching almost constantly by 
 day and night, found themselves at length on a hill 
 before the city of Rome, with a large army encamped at 
 their back. Below them the Saracen host filed out 
 against them, and Ogier, his ears full of the din of 
 battle, longed sorely to follow Duke Naymes and his 
 kinsmen to the fight ; but they forbade him, telling him 
 to remain among the tents. 
 
 So Ogier stood upon the hill-top and gazed longingly 
 at the plain below. He saw the armies clash together 
 in the first onset ; he saw the golden standard of 
 Charlemagne in the thickest fight, surrounded by a 
 circle of his bravest lords ; he saw Duke Naymes, his 
 master, riding beside the Emperor himself Suddenly 
 all was confusion, the group of barons scattered, the 
 standard wavered — fell — recovered itself — then fell 
 again ; and Ogier perceived that Sir Alory, the standard- 
 bearer, panic-stricken by the repulse that Charlemagne's 
 body-guard had suffered, had turned his horse's head 
 from the fight and was fleeing for his life. 
 
 Seizing a battle-axe, Ogier dashed down the hill, 
 caught the bridle of Sir Alory's horse, and raising the 
 fallen standard, cried, " Coward, go hence and hide thee 
 among the monks and women at home! But leave the 
 banner of the Franks with me." 
 
 Then, hastily disarming the trembling knight, Ogier 
 called upon a squire to dress him in Sir Alory's armour, 
 leapt upon his horse, and sword in one hand, banner in 
 the other, flung himself into the thick of the fray. Hew- 
 ing a path through the enemy's ranks, he found Duke
 
 Naymes and many other nobles had been taken and 
 held as prisoners in the rear. To them he rode, cut 
 their bonds with a touch of his sword, and hewed a way 
 through the closing ranks of the foemen for himself and 
 them. It seemed as though none could stand against 
 the onslaught of the mighty young Dane. 
 
 Suddenly a cry of horror ran through the Prankish 
 host. Charlemagne himself was down, his horse killed 
 under him, and he himself hard pressed by Danncmont 
 the Saracen prince. Swooping down upon them, Ogier 
 waved the standard on high in one hand, while he cut down 
 Dannemont with the other, and kept the foemen back 
 while Charlemagne was mounting a fresh horse. Three 
 times that day was the Emperor face to face with death, 
 and three times was his life saved by the good right 
 hand of Ogier the Dane. 
 
 At length, with Ogier waving the standard at their 
 head, the Prankish host dispersed the Saracens and 
 drove them in disorder to the gates of Rome. 
 
 Directly the fight was over, the Emperor ordered that 
 the standard-bearer should be brought before him ; but 
 no one knew that it was Ogier, for he wore his visor 
 down. Then said Charlemagne to him, " Alory, though 
 you fled at the first onset, you have most nobly redeemed 
 your honour, and no reward can be too great for this 
 day's work. Choose, therefore, any province of my 
 kingdom, and you shall be its ruler, and shall also be at 
 my right hand to do battle for me in all my quarrels." 
 
 But a squire who stood by, and who heard him speak 
 thus of Alory, said, " Sire, this is not that Alory of whom 
 you speak. Por he let fall the colours and fled at the 
 first onslaught, to save his own skin ; but this knight, 
 whom I know not at all, seized the standard from Alory's 
 hands and bade me dress him in his armour ; and it is 
 he who has fought so well." 
 
 Then, as all stood wondering, Ogier took off his 
 helmet and knelt before Charlemagne, saying, " Have 
 6
 
 82 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 pity, sire, on Godfrey, King of Denmark, and let his 
 son atone for his ill deeds and be your faithful vassal in 
 his stead." 
 
 And Charlemagne kissed his brow and said, " My 
 anger towards you and your father is altogether turned 
 to love. I grant you your request. Rise, therefore, 
 Sir Ogier the Dane, henceforth to be champion for 
 France and Charlemagne, and God be with you." 
 
 Thus did Ogier receive his knighthood on the field of 
 battle, and all the peers of France came about him to 
 salute him. Then also, flushed with joy, did he once 
 more make a rush upon the enemy, so that they all fell 
 back before him. For as sure as the Frankish host fell 
 into disorder or wavered before the foe, so surely did 
 the fair-haired Danish knight ride into their midst upon 
 his great black horse and cheer them forward to the 
 fight again, cutting and hewing down the foe on either 
 side, and waving the banner of the Franks with a great 
 shout of " Ogier the Dane is upon you ! " 
 
 Panic-stricken at this sight, Sadonne, the officer of 
 the King of India, rode in haste to Dannemont the 
 Prince, bidding him hold the field at all costs, since 
 Caraheu, King of India, with thirty kings, was coming 
 to his help. 
 
 But as he rode he was met by the Saracen army in 
 full flight, crying out in terror, " Flee now and save 
 thyself, for Michael the Archangel fights against us 
 all." 
 
 Finding himself face to face with the fair-haired 
 knight on the great horse, Sadonne promptly threw 
 away his arms and begged for mercy. 
 
 " Who are you that I should grant it ? " asked Ogier, 
 and when he answered that he was the chief officer of 
 the King of India the Dane replied, " On one condition 
 only will I grant your life. Bid Caraheu meet me in 
 single combat, and so let us determine the issue of this 
 war."
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 83 
 
 Next day came Caraheu with a gorgeous train of 
 followers, and with him came Gloriande, his afifianced 
 bride, the fairest woman in the Eastern world, whose 
 hair was like spun gold and fell in a shower to her feet, 
 and whose wonderful gown of pearl-embroidered damask 
 had taken nine years to weave. 
 
 Then did Caraheu, Emperor of India, make proclama- 
 tion, saying, " Where is Ogier the Dane, that I may 
 fight with him in single combat? For that am I come 
 hither, and Gloriande, my promised bride, shall be the 
 prize of victory." 
 
 But Chariot, the son of Charlemagne, looked darkly 
 on as they made ready, saying, "It is not right that an 
 Emperor should contend with my father's bondsman, 
 but only with me." 
 
 To which Caraheu replied, " I fight not with boasters, 
 but with brave men. Sir Ogier here can rule men's 
 hearts, which is far nobler than ruling their lands." 
 
 " Nay, noble sire," said Ogier, " though I should be 
 loath indeed to give up this conflict, yet Chariot is the 
 Emperor's son, and worthy to fight with the bravest." 
 
 " He may fight with Sadonne, my chief oflficer," said 
 Caraheu. " For me, the conflict is with you alone." 
 
 So a double combat was arranged, to which Gloriande 
 came to look on. In the fight between Sadonne and 
 Chariot, Sadonne killed Chariot's horse, and being a 
 man of honour, dismounted from his own, that they 
 might fight on equal terms ; but Chariot only pretended 
 to fight until he could reach the place where stood the 
 steed of Sadonne, upon which he leapt and basely fled 
 away. 
 
 Meantime Caraheu with his wonderful sword Courtain 
 had cut through Ogier's shield and armour and would 
 have pierced him to the heart, had not the Dane, with 
 a vast effort, borne the Indian monarch to the ground, 
 where he lay helpless. Yet Ogier would not kill him, 
 for he admired his courage ; but as he stood by him
 
 84 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 and helped him to rise, there rushed upon the Dane 
 some three hundred Saracens whom Dannemont had 
 hidden in the bushes near that place. 
 
 Vainly did Ogier fight, and Caraheu too, full of 
 wrath at their treachery, and crying, " Traitors, better 
 death than shame like this ! " fought at his side. But 
 being overpowered and disarmed, the life of Ogier was 
 only spared at the pleading of Gloriande, and he was 
 led away to prison, loaded with heavy chains. Yet in vain 
 did the Saracens hope to win the approval of Caraheu 
 their former ally. So full of fury was he at their 
 treachery that he went over, with all his host, to the 
 side of Charlemagne, until the Saracen host should 
 atone for their conduct towards Ogier. 
 
 But meantime Gloriande, who, according to the fairy 
 gift, had loved Ogier the moment she set eyes upon him, 
 came in secret to the prison and loosed his bonds, so 
 that he escaped to the camp of Charlemagne and 
 Caraheu. 
 
 Then all three, together with the peers of France, 
 fought against the Saracen host and prevailed against 
 them and drove them out of Rome. Gloriande mean- 
 time had been rescued by Ogier from the foe and given 
 to Caraheu to be his wife ; in Rome were they baptized 
 and wedded, and returned to India as Christian man 
 and woman. But first he gave Courtain, that famous 
 Damascus blade, to Ogier, saying, " By conquering me 
 in fair fight you won my life and also my bride, and 
 both have you given back to me. Take therefore this 
 sword, offered in friendly wise, as a pledge that I owe 
 all to you."
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 85 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 HOW OGIER CAME TO FAIRYLAND 
 
 WHEN Ogier the Dane returned to France, he 
 found that his wife Bellisande had died, leaving 
 him a pretty babe named Baldwin, of whom he soon 
 became extremely fond. During the years in which the 
 babe was growing into childhood at the king's court, 
 came the news that the pagan hosts had invaded the 
 lands of Denmark, and that King Godfrey was hard be- 
 set by them in the only town that yet remained in his 
 hands. 
 
 At length the King and Queen, knowing they could 
 hold out alone no longer, looked at each other with eyes 
 of fear, saying, " See what has come upon us because 
 of Ogier, our son, whom we left to a cruel fate ! " 
 
 So, being brought very low, they wrote a letter to 
 Charlemagne the Emperor, imploring him to pity them, 
 to forget the past, and to send them succour. But 
 Charlemagne coldly replied, " Since Godfrey holds his 
 lands by right of his good sword, let him hold them 
 still. I will not raise a finger in his aid." And turning 
 to Ogier, he added, " You, surely, would not wish me to 
 aid a traitor who refused to do me homage and who 
 left you to suffer for his broken troth ? " 
 
 But Ogier bent his knee before him, and said, "Sire, 
 as your vassal I kneel before you ; but Godfrey is my 
 father and I must go to his aid. The Emperor will not 
 forbid a son his duty." 
 
 So Charles said, "Go, but go alone, with your own 
 servants. For mine shall not fight in a rebel's cause." 
 
 Then Ogier hastened to his father's city with thirty 
 of his servants, but when he reached the walls he found 
 the foemen fighting over Godfrey of Denmark's lifeless 
 body. Few as were his followers, it was not long before 
 Ogier had put to flight the pagan host, and with the aid
 
 86 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 of his good sword Courtain, had swept them from the 
 land. So all the people rejoiced to have him King of 
 Denmark, and there he stayed five years, governing 
 well and wisely. And when all was firmly established 
 there he returned to the Court of Charlemagne at 
 Eastertide, and came and knelt before Charlemagne, 
 saying, " The son of Godfrey, of his own free will, 
 pays homage to the Emperor for the land of Den- 
 mark." 
 
 Then Charlemagne embraced him warmly, and bade 
 him once more take his seat among the peers of France. 
 
 Meanwhile his son, young Baldwin, had grown into 
 a fair-haired boy, full of fun and spirit, and beloved by 
 all at the Court save one. That one was Chariot, the 
 Emperor's son, who had ever been jealous of Ogier, and 
 was now full of spite against his child. 
 
 Now it so fell out one day, when Ogier was out 
 hunting, that Chariot sat and played chess with Baldwin 
 in the palace ; and the boy, having easily defeated him, 
 laughed in pleasure at his triumph. Then the Prince, 
 beside himself with sudden rage, snatched up the heavy 
 chess-board and beat out the child's brains. 
 
 Rage and misery took possession of Ogier's heart 
 when he returned to find his little son lying dead and 
 cold. Taking the lifeless body in his arms, he laid it 
 before the Emperor's footstool, saying, " Sire, look upon 
 your son's foul work." 
 
 Then was the Emperor sorely grieved, so that he 
 vowed he vi^ould give half his kingdom to undo that 
 deed. " But," said he, "well I know that there is nothing 
 can repay so great a loss." 
 
 " Truly," said Ogier, " there is nothing can repay, but 
 there is a penalty that can be paid. Let me therefore 
 fight with your son, and so avenge my boy's death." 
 
 "Nay, Ogier, that cannot be," said the Emperor; "for 
 how could my son fight against you and live?" 
 
 " What matter ! " cried the knight. " Why should
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 87 
 
 your son live more than mine? Give him then up 
 to me." 
 
 " I cannot do it," said the Emperor. 
 
 " Then, sire," cried Ogier in great anger, " till you learn 
 justice, we are foes." 
 
 So saying, he left the Court forthwith, and came to 
 Lombardy, whose king was then at war with the 
 Emperor, and Ogier fought on his side against Charle- 
 magne. 
 
 In this land did Ogier once again win a great name 
 for courage and daring ; and there it was that men 
 would turn pale at the mention of Ogier the Dane, and 
 of Courtain his sword, and of Broiefort, his great black 
 war-horse. And when the hosts of Charlemagne came 
 up against Desiderio, King of the Lombards, Ogier 
 prevailed against them, even as in the days of old he 
 had prevailed against their foes. 
 
 At length Charlemagne himself, hearing that the 
 French were murmuring loudly against him because of 
 the loss of their champion, marched forth himself 
 against the rebel. And when he heard of his approach 
 the heart of Ogier the Dane smote him, for always he 
 loved his master, though he would not fight for him 
 again till justice was done. But Desiderio, King of the 
 Lombards, was full of fear, dreading what would happen 
 when Charlemagne appeared. And this is how a poet 
 tells the story of his coming. 
 
 Ogier the Dane and Desiderio, 
 
 King of the Lombards, on a lofty tower 
 
 Stood gazing northward o'er the rolling plains, 
 
 League after league of harvests, to the foot 
 
 Of the snow-crested Alps, and saw approach 
 
 A mighty army, thronging all the roads 
 
 That led into the city. And the King 
 
 Said unto Ogier, who had passed his youth 
 
 As hostage at the Court of France, and knew 
 
 The Emperor's form and face : " Is Charlemagne 
 
 Among that host ?' And Ogier answered, " No."
 
 88 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 And still the innumerable multitude 
 
 Flowed onward and increased, until the King 
 
 Cried in amazement : " Surely Charlemagne 
 
 Is coming in the midst of all these knights ! " 
 
 And Ogier answered slowly, " No, not yet ; 
 
 lie will not come so soon." Then, much disturbed, 
 
 King Desiderio asked : " What shall we do, 
 
 If he approach with a still greater army?" 
 
 And Ogier answered, " When he shall appear 
 
 You will behold what manner of man he is ; 
 
 And what will then befall us, I know not." 
 
 Then came the guard that never knew repose. 
 
 The Paladins of France ; and at the sight 
 
 The Lombard King, o'ercome with terror, cried : 
 
 " This must be Charlemagne ! " and as before 
 
 Did Ogier answer, " No ; not yet, not yet ! " 
 
 And then appeared in panoply complete 
 
 The Bishops and the Abbots and the Priests 
 
 Of the Imperial Chapel, and the Counts ; 
 
 And Desiderio could no more endure 
 
 The light of day, nor yet encounter death, 
 
 But sobbed aloud and said : " Let us go down 
 
 And hide us in the bosom of the earth. 
 
 Far from the sight and anger of a foe 
 
 So terrible as this ! " And Ogier said, 
 
 " When you behold the harvests in the fields 
 
 Shaking with fear, the Po and the Ticino 
 
 Lashing the city walls with iron waves. 
 
 Then may you know that Charlemagne is come." 
 
 And even as he spake, in the north-west 
 
 Lo ! there uprose a black and threatening cloud, 
 
 Out of whose bosom flashed the light of arms 
 
 Upon the people pent up in the city ; 
 
 A light more terrible than any darkness. 
 
 And Charlemagne appeared— a Man of Iron. 
 
 His helmet was of iron, and his gloves 
 
 Of iron, and his breastplate and his greaves 
 
 And tassets were of iron, and his shield. 
 
 In his left hand he held an iron spear, 
 
 In his right hand his sword invincible. 
 
 The horse he rode on had the strength of iron 
 
 And colour of iron. All who went before him, 
 
 Beside him, and behind him, his whole host, 
 
 Were armed with iron, and their hearts within them 
 
 Were stronger than the armour that they wore.
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 89 
 
 The fields and all the roads were filled with iron, 
 And points of iron glistened in the sun, 
 And shed a terror through the city streets. 
 This at a single glance Ogier the Dane 
 Saw from the tower, and turning to the King, 
 Exclaimed in haste, " Behold, this the man 
 You looked for with such eagerness ! " and then 
 Fell as one dead at Desiderio's feet. 
 
 For, in spite of all, Ogier could never lose his love for 
 his old master, though he fought against him and his 
 followers with all his might. 
 
 At length the Franks, weary of being beaten by him 
 whenever he appeared upon the scene, plotted together 
 how they might take Ogier the Dane by trickery. 
 
 So they waited their chance, and finding him one day 
 lying exhausted with a long fight fast asleep under 
 a fir tree, his good sword fallen from his hand, they 
 bound him hand and foot, led away his great black war- 
 horse Broiefort, carried off his sword and lance and 
 shield, and brought the knight before the King. 
 
 Now Charlemagne was so wroth with Ogier for fight- 
 ing against him, that he would have slain him there and 
 then, and so made sure that the life of his son Chariot 
 would no longer stand in danger of his arm. But it so 
 happened that amongst those who had taken Ogier 
 prisonerwas ArchbishopTurpin,whonow intervened, say- 
 ing, " Sire, for the sake of you and your followers I forced 
 myself to take prisoner the noblest knight in Christen- 
 dom, but for the sake of no one in the world will I stand 
 by and see him put to death. Now therefore, since 
 I took him prisoner, I claim him as my captive, and 
 will keep him in prison so that he does no further harm 
 to France." 
 
 So Turpin led Ogier to his castle, where he was 
 treated with the greatest kindness and consideration. 
 
 In the days that followed, while Ogier lay in prison, 
 an evil fate fell upon the Franks, for Bruhier, a Saracen 
 giant, invaded France, marched against Charlemagne
 
 90 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 and his army, and utterly defeated them. Again and 
 again they rallied against the foe, but in vain ; and 
 at length the peers of France, utterly disheartened, came 
 before Charlemagne, saying, " Send, we pray thee, for 
 Ogier the Dane, since he alone can stand against this 
 terrible foe and deliver us out of his hands." 
 
 Then Charlemagne bowed his haughty head and went 
 himself to the castle of Archbishop Turpin, and prayed 
 Ogier to come out and to lead the hosts of the Franks 
 against the Saracen, as in the days of old. 
 
 But Ogier made answer, " Not so, unless you will 
 first deliver up your son Chariot into my hands." 
 
 So the Emperor departed in silence, for he would not 
 sacrifice his son. At length, however, after another 
 terrible defeat, the soldiers themselves crowded round 
 him, saying, " Is it nothing to you that we die by 
 thousands in this vain struggle ? Give up your son ; for 
 what is his life against so many ?" 
 
 Very sadly did Charlemagne agree, and with heav)' 
 heart brought out the wretched Chariot and delivered 
 him into the hands of Ogier. And Ogier, blinded by 
 the remembrance of his fair boy, so cruelly done to 
 death, would not think of mercy, but clutched him 
 by the hair and drew his good sword Courtain, meaning 
 to cut off his head. 
 
 At that moment came a clap of thunder and a vivid 
 flash of lightning, in the midst of which sounded a voice 
 from heaven, which said, " Stay, Ogier ! Slay not 
 the son of the King." 
 
 Then Ogier's hand relaxed its grasp and Courtain 
 was returned to its sheath ; but when the Emperor 
 hastened forward to thank him for his mercy, the proud 
 Dane answered, "Thank Heaven, sire, not Ogier the 
 Dane. He does but do the will of God." 
 
 But Charlemagne would not be repulsed ; and he 
 spoke gentle words to Ogier, so that the knight's heart 
 melted within him, and he embraced his former master
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 91 
 
 with tears. And that day were they made friends 
 again. 
 
 Now when Ogier would ride forth to do battle 
 against the Emperor's foes, he called for his good horse 
 Broiefort. But Broiefort had been quite lost sight of 
 during the seven long years of Ogier's imprisonment, 
 and men believed him to be dead. 
 
 " You shall have my charger in his place," said 
 Charlemagne, and caused a mighty horse to be led out ; 
 but when Ogier leaned upon his back, the creature 
 bowed to the earth under his weight. Ten other fine 
 animals were led forth in turn that he might try them ; 
 but none of them were strong enough to bear the 
 stalwart Dane. 
 
 " 'Tis clear I must go afoot for the rest of my life," 
 said Ogier in rueful wise ; but even as he spoke there 
 came to him one who said, " I have seen Broiefort 
 dragging stones for the building of an abbey ten leagues 
 away." 
 
 Then they hastened to that place and found indeed 
 the good horse Broiefort, but so old and worn that 
 no one but his master would have recognized him. 
 Yet when Ogier came and leaned upon his back, the old 
 charger bowed not, but straightened himself beneath the 
 weight ; and when he knew his old master, he whinnied 
 and snorted with joy, and lay down on the ground before 
 him like a dog. 
 
 So once more Ogier went forth to battle, and wherever 
 he went the foes of France made way before him. Year 
 after year passed away, and still the champion of Charle- 
 magne fought for him and for his land. Grey and old 
 he grew, but yet his arm remained strong and thousands 
 still fell before his good sword Courtain. When he was 
 very old in years he went forth to fight in the Holy 
 War and took many a city of Palestine. Then, weary 
 at length of so much fighting, he left his officers to rule 
 there in his stead and with a great fleet set sail for France.
 
 92 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Now after some days there came down upon that fleet 
 a terrible storm, which tossed the vessels hither and 
 thither and left them at the mercy of the waves. The 
 ship in which Ogier sailed was utterly wrecked, and 
 having lost mast and sail and oars, was driven out of 
 its course into an unknown ocean, through which it was 
 rapidly carried and finally dashed upon a reef of rock 
 and broken to pieces. The sailors leapt in the sea and 
 were crushed to death against the iron rocks ; Ogier 
 the Dane alone stood firm upon the sinking deck and 
 gazed through the darkness into the face of death. 
 
 Suddenly a voice from the air cried, " Ogier, we wait 
 for thee. Fear not, but trust thyself to the waves." 
 
 So he cast himself into the sea, and immediately a 
 huge wave seized him and threw him high upon the 
 rocks. Then as he staggered, blinded with spray, to 
 his feet, a pathway of light shone out before him, show- 
 ing steps cut roughly on the face of the cliff. Up these 
 he climbed, following the light, till at length he found 
 himself outside a marvellous palace, invisible by day, 
 but glowing bright in the darkness. Its walls were of 
 ivory and gold, and its gateway of silver stood wide 
 open to welcome the sea-tossed wanderer. Within the 
 decorated hall Ogier found a marvellous horse named 
 Papillon, snow-white in colour, with shoes of gold. 
 This beautiful animal trotted towards him and motioned 
 him to follow towards a room in which stood a table 
 covered with a dainty banquet. 
 
 He then fetched water in a golden basin and knelt 
 before Ogier that he might cleanse his hands before 
 eating ; and after the meal was over the good horse 
 carried him to a bed surrounded by tall golden candle- 
 sticks in which sweet-smelling tapers burnt all night. 
 
 So Ogier slept in peace in the strange silence of that 
 palace ; and when he awoke the palace had faded all 
 away in the light of the sun and nothing of it was to 
 be seen.
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 93 
 
 The place where he now found himself was an ex- 
 quisite garden lying in the midst of the land of Avalon 
 in the realm of Fairyland. There never rain or snow 
 is seen, nor breath of frost or fire or hail, but everlasting 
 sunshine and a soft, sweet sky above, which smiles 
 upon flowers that never fade and fruits that never 
 decay. 
 
 While Ogier the Dane was looking in bewilderment 
 round about him, there came to him the shining figure of 
 Morgan le Fay, Queen of Fairyland, who took his hand 
 and said, " Long have I waited, dear knight, for your 
 coming. And now you shall never leave this fair 
 spot, but in youth perpetual shall abide with me for 
 ever." 
 
 So saying she placed upon his finger a magic ring, 
 which had the effect of at once making Ogier young 
 and strong as in his early prime. And on his head she 
 placed a wreath of myrtle and olive leaves, calling it the 
 Crown of Forgetfulness, From that moment all his 
 past life vanished from his mind ; no more did he re- 
 member Charlemagne or his Court or the long warfare 
 of past days, but, as one born again, he took up his new 
 life in Fairyland. And as he wandered with her hand 
 in hand through that fair region, he came upon the 
 great King Arthur, healed now of his deadly wound, 
 and Sir Lancelot and other brave knights of the Table 
 Round, with whom he jousted in friendly wise as in the 
 days of yore. 
 
 Thus passed away two hundred years as they had 
 been a day or a week, for nothing was known of time 
 in Fairyland,
 
 94 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 HOW OGIER THE DANE RETURNED 
 
 MEANTIME, things had gone very ill in the land 
 of the Franks. Great Charlemagne had passed 
 away, and there was no man to lead forth the armies of 
 France against the country's foes. Again and again the 
 land cried aloud for a deliverer, but there was none to 
 help. 
 
 Far away in the land of Faery at length was heard 
 the echo of that cry, and the kind heart of Morgan 
 le Fay melted with pity for the Franks. For, though she 
 sorely grieved to part with her beloved knight, she 
 decided that he must return to the land of mortals once 
 again, to fight for France and for Christendom. 
 
 So one day, as she kissed his brow, she lifted from it 
 the wreath of forgetfulness and bade him listen to that 
 distant cry. Then at once Ogier sprang up as one 
 aroused from sleep, and cried, " Too long have I stayed 
 in this peaceful land. See ! the cry of battle is in the 
 air, and it may be that Charlemagne, my lord, calls for 
 Ogier the Dane to go forth as his champion. Now let 
 me go at once, but tell me first — have I been long in 
 this fair resting-place ? " 
 
 Then Morgan le Fay smiled sadly, saying, " The time 
 has not been long to us, dear knight " ; and forthwith 
 she brought out Courtain his good sword, led forth 
 Papillon to be his charger, and raised up the long-dead 
 Benoist, his squire, to bear him company. 
 
 Then, as she prepared to leave him, she gave him 
 a torch saying, '' Take heed that you kindle this not, 
 for if it remains unlit you shall live for ever; but if by 
 chance it should begin to burn away, take great care 
 that the flame be preserved, for when the last spark of 
 the torch has died out, then shall your life come to an
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 95 
 
 end. Guard also, my beloved, the magic ring upon your 
 finger, for while you wear it, your health and youth 
 shall never fade away." 
 
 After these words she threw Ogier into a deep sleep 
 and wafted him away by magic spells to the land of 
 France. And when he awoke, he found Courtain lying 
 ready to his hand, and Benoist the squire holding 
 Papillon ready for him to mount. Then all those years 
 in Avalon seemed to him but a dream, and leaping upon 
 his horse he rode into the nearest city. 
 
 "What city is this?" asked Ogier of one whom he 
 overtook. 
 
 " Montpellier," answered the man. 
 
 " I should have known that, indeed," said Ogier, 
 smiling, "though methinks it hath changed of late. 
 My kinsman indeed is governor of this city ; perhaps 
 you know him — Lascaut is his name." 
 
 " You are jesting," said the man in some surprise. 
 " It is full two hundred years since the days of that 
 same governor. But he is still remembered here, for, 
 as no doubt you know, he wrote the romance of Ogier 
 the Dane. A good story is that same, and is still sung 
 by one who goes about the city, singing the old tales 
 of long ago." 
 
 At this Ogier rode on, but the man lingered till he 
 was overtaken by Benoist, to whom he said, " Who is 
 your master? " 
 
 "Surely he is not unknown to any one in France?" 
 replied Benoist. " He is Ogier the Dane." 
 
 " Rascal ! " cried the man. " How dare you jest with 
 me ! All the world knows that Ogier the Dane 
 perished in a shipwreck some two hundred years ago." 
 
 Meantime, Ogier had ridden on to the market-place 
 of a neighbouring town, where stood an inn, well known 
 to him in old days, and kept by one Hubert. 
 
 "Can we find lodging here?" he asked of the man 
 who came out to greet him.
 
 96 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 " Certainly, sire," replied the latter, looking with 
 interest at his attire. 
 
 " Then send me Hubert the innkeeper," said Ogier, 
 preparing to dismount. 
 
 " Sire," replied the man, " I am the innkeeper, and my 
 name is William." 
 
 " Do not try to deceive me ! " said Ogier sternly. " I 
 know this inn too well to believe that, unless by chance 
 Hubert hath died of late. But if so, where is his 
 son ?" 
 
 At that the landlord slammed the door in his face, 
 and having secured it, appeared at an upper window and 
 called to those passing below, " Here is a madman, or 
 one possessed with a devil, for he wishes to speak with 
 Hubert, my grandfather's grandfather, who has been 
 dead these two hundred years. Seize him, then, and 
 send for the Abbot of St. Faron, that he may come and 
 drive out the evil spirit from him." 
 
 A rough crowd quickly assembled about the inn and 
 began to throw stones at both knight and squire. Soon 
 the excitement grew beyond all bounds, and an archer 
 on the outskirts drew his bow and shot poor 
 Benoist through the heart. Upon that Ogier lost all 
 patience, and leaping upon Papillon, he laid about him 
 with Courtain his sword till the market-place was 
 covered with the dead. But meanwhile the heat of his 
 passion had kindled the magic torch that lay in his 
 breast, and it burnt now with a steady flame. 
 
 Then Ogier rode hard from that place till he came to 
 the Abbey of St. Faron, which he himself had built 
 and endowed before he went to the Holy Land. There 
 he met the old Abbot, to whom he said, " Surely you will 
 know me, good father, for I am the founder of this 
 Abbey, and it was at my word that you were appointed 
 at its head. Is not your name Simon ? " 
 
 " Not so," said the Abbot, " my name is Geoffrey ; 
 but tell me, I pray you, to whom I am speaking."
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 97 
 
 " I am Ogier the Dane," he replied. 
 
 The Abbot fell back a step and gazed at him with 
 amazement. 
 
 " There was a Simon who was abbot of this monas- 
 tery long, long ago, and true enough, he lived in the 
 days of the great Ogier," he said ; " but that was two 
 hundred years ago, and Simon's bones had fallen to 
 dust long before I was born." 
 
 Then Sir Ogier gave a loud cry of wonderment. 
 
 " What, Abbot Simon gone ? And Charlemagne 
 and the peers of France ? Where are they all ? Not 
 dead — surely not dead ! " 
 
 " Dead and buried two hundred years ago," said the 
 Abbot solemnly ; and at that Sir Ogier threw himself 
 from his horse and implored him to hear his story. 
 Together they sat in the great dim church, and the 
 Abbot listened and marvelled, but believed and rejoiced 
 to think that the champion of France had returned 
 once more. 
 
 Then Ogier gave into his charge the magic torch, 
 which he placed beneath the church in an iron chest, so 
 that very little air might enter, and the flame, diminished 
 to a spark, might smoulder on for many years. Now 
 when this was done the Abbot prayed Ogier to let him 
 see the ring which had been given him by Morgan 
 le Fay, but directly it was drawn from his finger the 
 knight became at that moment a shrivelled, feeble old 
 man, a very skeleton, and almost without life. Hasten- 
 ing to put it on again, he once more found himself 
 young and vigorous, and leaping upon Papillon, he 
 rode off against the enemies of France. 
 
 Black was the outlook for the Franks that day, for 
 the heathen host had scattered them on every side. 
 Suddenly was seen in their midst a huge fair-haired 
 knight riding on a milk-white horse, and wherever he 
 went the foes of France fled before his path. 
 
 " Surely," cried at length one old Frankish warrior, 
 
 7
 
 98 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 mindful of the tales his grandfather had told him, " 'tis 
 Ogier the Dane ! " 
 
 The word was repeated from rank to rank, and from 
 one part to another the cry went up of " Ogier ! Ogier 
 the Dane ! " 
 
 And with this battle-song on their lips the Franks 
 rushed upon the foe as in the days of old and put them 
 utterly to rout. 
 
 This happened every time the Dane went forth to 
 victory, until at length the heathen host was driven 
 from the length and breadth of the land of France. 
 And while he fought, the watchful Abbot of St. 
 Faron noted that the torch within the iron safe burnt 
 fiercely, but when he was at rest it sank once again to 
 a mere spark. 
 
 Now when at length the foes of France had been put 
 to silence. Sir Ogier the Dane came to the Court of the 
 Queen of France, for the King had been long dead. 
 And then once more the effect of the fairy gifts was 
 seen, for both the Queen and her chief lady-in-waiting 
 fell in love with him. But the latter, finding that he did 
 not return her love, determined to have her revenge. 
 One day, when she and the Queen of France were 
 passing through an ante-chamber, they happened to 
 find Ogier sleeping upon a couch ; and the Queen, 
 mindful of the legends that were told about him, drew 
 the magic ring softly from his finger in order to see what 
 would happen. To the horror of the two ladies, the 
 handsome young knight turned at once into a withered 
 skeleton before their eyes. Before he could awaken, 
 the Queen hurriedly slipped the ring on again, and 
 Ogier at once regained his health and youth, but not 
 before the lady-in-waiting had seen her means of 
 revenge. 
 
 When it was openly announced that Ogier was to 
 marry the Queen and to sit upon the throne of Charle- 
 magne, the lady sent thirty strong knights to seize him
 
 STORY OF THE ENCHANTED KNIGHT 99 
 
 as he rode out from the palace and to take from him 
 his ring ; but Papillon, the fairy horse, saved his life 
 that time, and leaping lightly over their heads, sped fast 
 away. 
 
 So the bridal arrangements were made, and a very 
 great ceremony prepared. All the greatest peers of 
 France came to the church to see the wedding and the 
 coronation of the famous Ogier, and a vast crowd stood 
 in waiting outside. 
 
 Suddenly, as Ogier and his bride knelt before the 
 chancel steps, a dazzling light shone through the church, 
 and in the midst of a rainbow cloud Morgan le Fay 
 appeared, clasped Sir Ogier in her arms, and both 
 vanished together in the mist with which the place 
 was filled. 
 
 Never again was Ogier the Dane seen by mortal eye ; 
 yet men say he is not dead, since the magic torch still 
 burns within the vault of the Abbey of St. Faron. 
 Far away in Avalon he dreams away the years ; but 
 one day, so say the Franks, the trumpet-blast will call 
 him back again to his adopted land, and then amidst 
 the hosts of foemen will be heard his battle-cry, " Ogier 
 the Dane ! " and with his good sword Courtain he will 
 appear agam, riding upon the white horse Papillon, and 
 driving before him the foes of France, as in the days of 
 old.
 
 THE SEVENTH STORY 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 
 
 (From the Geste de Doon de Mayence) 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 THE FOUR SONS OF AYMON 
 
 ONCE again in the days of Charlemagne there 
 lived a certain bold knight named Duke ^fWmon. 
 This noble married the sister of the Emperor, tire fair 
 maiden Aya, and in due course were born to him four 
 comely sons — Renaud, Allard, Guichard, and Richard. 
 
 Turbulent youths were they when they grew up, and 
 ever ready to take up arms in a quarrel. Nor was it 
 long before they had their opportunity in a great family 
 feud that began to exist between Charlemagne the 
 Emperor and their own house. For their uncle, Sir 
 Bevis, being a knight of hot and passionate blood, 
 refused to do homage to Charlemagne for his broad 
 lands, and when Lothair, the son of the Emperor, 
 came to demand his fealty, he killed him unawares. 
 
 This led to open warfare, in which Duke Aymon 
 and his sons, rebels at heart all their lives, gladly took 
 the side of Sir Bevis. But the warriors of Charlemagne 
 were the stronger, and defeated the followers of Sir 
 Bevis, and took him and his brother Duke Aymon 
 barefooted and bareheaded into the presence of the 
 Emperor. 
 
 Humbly they knelt before him and humbly sued for 
 pardon, and so, after bitter upbraiding for their dis- 
 loyalty, Charlemagne bade them go in peace. Then 
 crept up that evil-minded Ganelon, always an ill adviser 
 
 100
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 101 
 
 to the Emperor, and reminded him how Sir Bevis had 
 slain his son. 
 
 " Wouldst thou forgive the murderer of Lothair ? " 
 he questioned. "Surely then will all Charlemagne's 
 lords turn rebels and cut-throats." 
 
 Thus he continued to speak in the ears of Charle- 
 magne, and poisoned his mind so that he repented him of 
 his mercy, and sent messengers to lie in wait for Sir 
 Bevis and kill him as he set out upon the homeward 
 path. 
 
 Now, when this thing was known, the sons of Aymon 
 and the Duke himself swore great oaths that they would 
 never pay fealty to Charlemagne again nor be at peace 
 with him till they had avenged their kinsman. At that 
 time there were in France many discontented barons 
 who were always ready to rebel against the Emperor, 
 and these now joined Duke Aymon in a long and fruit- 
 less war against their King. But after a while the Duke 
 grew old and weary of warfare ; Charlemagne too had 
 no desire to keep up the long feud. So when the latter 
 sent messengers to bid the old man end the war and 
 return to his allegiance, Aymon replied that he would be 
 ready to do this if Charlemagne would pay six times the 
 weight of Sir Bevis in gold. 
 
 And so the feud came to an end for a time. 
 
 No long time passed, however, before the daring and 
 rebellious spirit of the sons of Aymon broke out afresh. 
 
 It so happened that Charlemagne made a great 
 tournament at his city of Aachen, and bade the four 
 young men repair thither to test their strength against 
 the other youths of the Court. 
 
 So they took their way to the city on horseback, and 
 of the four Renaud the eldest rode first, upon the back 
 of Bayard his famous charger. Now Bayard was a 
 fairy horse, of great strength and size, and none could 
 excel him in speed. He had more wit than many a 
 man, and often had delivered his master in time of peril.
 
 No sooner had the tournament begun than it was 
 quickly seen that none could hold their own against the 
 sons of Aymon save only those renowned knights 
 Roland and Ogier the Dane, In vain did Chariot the 
 Emperor's son and Bertholair his nephew challenge 
 them to the combat. Each time they did so they were 
 brought to the ground in shame and dishonour. At 
 length Bertholair made a plot with Chariot to play a 
 trick upon Renaud which should bring him to confusion. 
 He challenged the young man to a game of chess, 
 making a bargain that whoever won should become the 
 owner of Bayard the famous horse. 
 
 Now half-way through the game Renaud perceived 
 that he was being tricked in that play and that 
 Bertholair was about to cry " Checkmate ! " Springing 
 to his feet in a gust of sudden fury, he drew his sword 
 Flamberg from its sheath and struck off the head of 
 Bertholair so that it rolled upon the ground. 
 
 At once all the knights in the place sprang to their 
 feet and surrounded the four brothers, who set their 
 backs against an oak tree hard by and prepared to sell 
 their lives dearly. 
 
 Suddenly into the space between them and the angry 
 courtiers bounded the great horse Bayard and lowered 
 his head before his master. Shouting to his brothers to 
 follow his example, Renaud sprang upon his back. The 
 knights rushed forward and strove to pull him off and 
 prevent the other three from joining him ; but Bayard 
 plunged and kicked and bit to such effect that the 
 former were obliged to fall back. Then the other three 
 young men leaped up behind their brother, who shook 
 the bridle, crying, " Bayard 1 " and immediately the good 
 horse sped away like the wind and was out of sight 
 before the discomfited courtiers could think of pursuit. 
 
 For the next seven years the four sons of Aymon lived 
 as outlaws in the wild woods that clothed the hills of the 
 Ardennes. At length, growing weary of this kind of 
 
 r^%:^
 
 life, they determined, since they might not fight in the 
 cause of Charlemagne, to serve his enemies the Moors in 
 Spain. 
 
 So they took service under a Moorish chief named 
 Ivo, and won such high renown that he gave to Renaud 
 his eldest daughter as wife and permission to build on 
 the top of a mountain among the Pyrenees a beautiful 
 castle of pure white marble. 
 
 And this was the Castle of Montauban, where Renaud 
 soon gathered many of the discontented nobles of 
 France and bade them fight on the side of the Moors 
 against Charlemagne the Emperor. 
 
 But the wisest of all who came was an ill-shapen 
 dwarf called Maugis, who was cousin to Renaud and 
 one of the cleverest magicians to be found from East to 
 West. So much did men fear his power that, wherever 
 he chose to go, they did not seek to question or prevent 
 him. And so he was sometimes in the camp of Charle- 
 magne, sometimes with Renaud, sometimes with the 
 Moors, and came and went just as he pleased. 
 
 Now in due time it came to pass that the anger of 
 Charlemagne was kindled afresh against his nephews 
 the four sons of Aymon, when he heard of the lordly 
 castle which Renaud had built at Montauban ; and he 
 gathered his host and marched through the mountain 
 passes until he stood beneath its white and gleaming 
 walls. But the castle was so strongly fortified and its 
 position so secure, since it could be approached only by 
 steep and narrow goat-paths, that the Emperor's army 
 was powerless before it. 
 
 At length the patience of Charlemagne gave out ; 
 and he sent for Roland and gave orders that the word 
 should be given for retreat, since they were but wasting 
 time. But Roland, to whose advice the King was 
 always willing to listen, said, " Let us, before we retire 
 for good, try one stratagem upon them. Let us pre- 
 tend to withdraw our forces from before the castle. In 
 
 iV* V ^?i^*iv
 
 104 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 all probability Renaud and his men will follow us in 
 their pride of heart, and then will we turn upon them 
 and slay them." 
 
 So Charlemagne acted upon this advice, and next 
 morning the watchers on the walls of the Castle of 
 Montauban saw the iron-grey hosts of the Emperor 
 turn their backs upon the mountain and slowly wend 
 their way towards the road which led to France. 
 
 At this news there was great rejoicing among the 
 brothers, some of whom were for making a sally and 
 harassing them in the rear. But Maugis the Dwarf 
 shook his big wise head, saying, " 'Tis but a stratagem, 
 and if you sally forth you will be doing the very thing 
 for which they have planned. By all means let them 
 go and keep fast yourselves within your walls ; and 
 when they see this they will get tired of attacking so 
 wary a foe and take themselves off for good." 
 
 Then Renaud arose and said, " The words of our kins- 
 man Maugis are good words and should be observed. 
 There is, however, one thing that we must do, regardless of 
 risk or danger, now that we are no longer shut up within 
 these walls. 'Tis now ten years since I have seen my 
 mother, Aya the Emperor's sister, and I long to speak 
 with her again. Let my brothers, if they will, come 
 with me ; and for greater safety we will go in disguise." 
 
 Now this was no light adventure to undertake ; for 
 Aymon their father had taken an oath to Charlemagne 
 that if his rebel sons appeared beneath his roof at 
 Dordon he would have them cut to pieces. Therefore 
 the four knights dressed themselves in pilgrim's garb, 
 with slouched hats and large worn cloaks, and went 
 barefoot to the Castle of Dordon. 
 
 It so happened that their father, Duke Aymon, was 
 absent on a hunting expedition when they arrived, and 
 as pilgrims in those days were always received with 
 respect and hospitality, they found no difficulty in 
 making their entrance to the castle.
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 105 
 
 The Lady Aya herself hastened to receive them in 
 the great hall, saying, "Tell me, good sirs, what you 
 lack of food or clothes, and I will gladly provide 
 them for the love of the Lord, Who I trust will guard 
 my own four sons and bring them back to me before 
 I die." 
 
 So they sat them down to meat, but could hardly 
 touch the food for the love and desire that was in their 
 hearts towards their mother. And she, looking earnestly 
 upon them, noticed on Renaud's forehead a wound mark 
 received in a tournament when he was but a child. 
 Rising to her feet, she cried, " Fair sir, if thou art 
 Renaud, speak to me now at once, for my heart tells me 
 that thou art my son." 
 
 Then Renaud took her in his arms and embraced her 
 with tears of joy, and the others kissed her a hundred 
 times over. 
 
 " But how poorly you are dressed, my sons ! " she 
 cried at last ; " and where are your horses that you 
 walk barefoot ? " 
 
 Then they told her of the danger in which they 
 stood because of the nearness of the hosts of Charle- 
 magne and because of their father's oath. So she put 
 good food before them and bade them eat in peace. 
 
 Scarcely had they finished, however, when the noise 
 of horns and horses was heard at the gate, and a page- 
 boy hastened in to announce the unexpected return of 
 Duke Aymon ; and before they had time for more than 
 to draw their pilgrim's hoods over their faces as they sat 
 the old man had tramped into the hall. 
 
 "And who are these men?" he cried after he had 
 greeted his wife. "By their garb they seem to be 
 penitents." 
 
 Then came his sweet wife and put her hands upon 
 his broad chest, saying, " Penitent indeed are they for 
 the trouble they have cost you, for they are our own 
 four sons, and they have come to seek harbourage with
 
 us till the morn. Now surely thou wilt soften thy heart 
 towards them and repent thee of thine oath." 
 
 But the Duke looked sadly on his sons because of his 
 oath's sake and said, " Children, this should be ill coming 
 for thee. For I have sworn to Charlemagne that I will 
 not let you hide under the same roof as myself, nor give 
 you help or protection in any wise." 
 
 Then said Renaud, "The Emperor has pursued us 
 even to my Castle of Montauban to seek our hurt, and 
 now he would put enmity between father and son. But 
 this shall not be. Weary and barefoot as we are, we 
 will but embrace our mother again and depart at 
 once." 
 
 " Not so," at length said the Count, who had been 
 sitting with his head bent sadly on his hand. " True and 
 loving are ye towards your mother, and great is the 
 risk you have run for her sake. I will therefore leave 
 the castle myself, for my oath's sake, this night, and 
 will sleep in my hunting-lodge, that ye may depart at 
 dawn in peace." 
 
 Now all that night long, while her four sons slept 
 soundly before the great hall fire, the Princess Aya 
 sent messengers throughout the country round about, 
 bidding all valiant knights who had a grudge against 
 the Emperor to come to the Castle of Dordon at break 
 of day. So when morning dawned seven hundred 
 knights in full armour sat on horseback before the 
 gate, ready to escort the four sons of Aymon in safety 
 to their castle among the mountains. And they, who 
 had come in pilgrim garb, barefoot and unarmed, re- 
 turned in shining armour proudly on horseback, clad 
 in the finest cloth and linen by the hands of theii 
 mother Aya. 
 
 Now when Charlemagne heard of the success of this 
 daring expedition, and how seven hundred of his dis- 
 contented knights had joined the forces of Renaud in 
 his mountain castle, he was very wroth and prepared to
 
 take vengeance upon him. Then came to him the 
 traitor Ganelon, and suggested that this could best be 
 done by bribing Ivo the Moorish chief, who was the 
 friend and ally of Renaud, to betray him. With so 
 mean a plot Roland would have naught to do ; but the 
 Emperor, weary and worried by news of a threatened 
 rebellion in the north, yielded to the tempter's voice 
 and made his arrangements with Ivo forthwith. 
 
 Now it was well known that at that particular time 
 the chieftain Ivo was on terms of alliance with Charle- 
 magne the Emperor, and it was no matter of surprise 
 to the sons of Aymon when Ivo appeared at the Castle 
 of Montauban as his ambassador of peace. They gave 
 him hearty welcome too, for their minds were ever ill 
 at ease because of the feud between themselves and the 
 Emperor and between themselves and their father. 
 
 "All shall be sacrificed to make peace with the 
 Emperor," they said, " save our honour and our lives." 
 
 " 'Tis but a small thing he asks of you," replied Ivo. 
 " He would have you dress yourselves as pilgrims as 
 you did just now when you visited your mother, and 
 that you ride thus, barefoot and unarmed, to the 
 presence of the King in his Castle of Falkalone, and 
 there ask his pardon and do homage to him." 
 
 " That will we gladly do," said Renaud, and so said 
 they all. 
 
 Not long after they had thus agreed with Ivo, the 
 four brothers dressed themselves in pilgrim's garb and 
 prepared to mount the mules which should take them 
 over the mountains to the Castle of Falkalone. But as 
 Renaud was saying farewell to his wife Clarissa, the 
 daughter of Ivo, she hung about his neck and prayed 
 him with tears not to go alone and unarmed upon this 
 undertaking. 
 
 " For," said she, " I have a foreboding — knowing my 
 father as I do — that he is in the pay of Charlemagne 
 for this matter, and that in going to Falkalone you are 
 
 /^#*\i^vW■?i/*»■
 
 108 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 but walking into a trap. Hear me, then, and cither go 
 not at all or fully armed." 
 
 But Renaud shook his head and chid her gently for 
 her want of faith in Ivo her father. " Say no more," 
 said he. " I will hear nothing said against the truth 
 and goodwill of my old ally." 
 
 So he strode off to mount his mule ; but his wife called 
 Allard softly back, and gave him four swords, and 
 among them good Flamberg, the famous weapon of her 
 lord. " You will have need of these, good brother," she 
 said. "Take them, therefore, and hide them beneath 
 thy robe. But see you say nothing of them to my lord 
 till the right time comes." 
 
 So Allard took and hid the swords beneath his cloak, 
 and forthwith the four brothers set out upon their road 
 down the steep mountain-side. Not far were they from 
 Falkalone when suddenly, as they were passing through 
 a deep and narrow valley, there was a shout, a clash of 
 arms, and three-score mounted men of the troops of 
 Charlemagne threw themselves upon them. In a trice 
 Allard pulled out three of the swords and threw them 
 to his brothers, but even when armed the odds against 
 them were far too many. Richard, Allard, and Guichard 
 were soon taken prisoner, and Renaud was only saved 
 by the oncoming darkness, which enabled him to cut 
 down his confused and blundering foes, and to make 
 a way for himself up the mountain-side. And so at 
 length, weary and bloodstained, he made his way back 
 to the Castle of Montauban.
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 109 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE GOOD STEED BAYARD 
 
 WHEN Renaud, a sadder and a wiser knight, had 
 made his return to Montauban, he fully expected 
 that the army of Charlemagne would quickly reappear 
 before his walls to begin the siege anew. But just 
 as the Emperor was about to give orders to this effect, 
 a messenger arrived hot-foot from Paris, with news of a 
 serious rebellion in the region of Northern France, so 
 that he was obliged to turn his face in that direction 
 without further delay. In order, however, to serve as a 
 lesson to the rebels of the north, he ordered the three 
 prisoners, Richard, Allard, and Guichard, to be carried 
 thither in chains in order that they might be hanged on 
 the walls of Paris. 
 
 Deep was the distress within the walls of Mont- 
 auban when this news was brought by one of Renaud's 
 spies. 
 
 " I cannot leave my brothers to such a fate," cried 
 Renaud. " Bravely here they stood by me, and now go 
 I forth to rescue them." 
 
 And to this his fair wife readily agreed. So Renaud 
 mounted upon his good horse Bayard and rode forth 
 alone in the track of the Emperor's army. 
 
 Now the weather grew very sultry about the noontide 
 hour, and Renaud became extremely sleepy and would 
 lay him down to rest. It seemed a safe part of the 
 country ; trees were scattered over a meadow which 
 sloped to a little stream. The horse put his head down 
 to crop the tender grass, and his master, slipping from 
 the saddle, lay down under an oak tree and was soon 
 asleep. Before very long the horse, as he fed, had 
 wandered some distance from his master, whose form 
 was almost hidden by the long grass amongst which he 
 lay.
 
 no STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 Presently there came by that way a little band of 
 countrymen, with whom journeyed a certain traveller who 
 had seen something of the world and was not unlearned 
 in the art of magic. 
 
 This man had often heard of Bayard, the wonderful 
 fairy horse, and now, as he looked about him and saw 
 the straying steed busily crop the grass, he stopped 
 short and exclaimed, " Surely that is the famous horse 
 of Renaud, the rebel knight ? " 
 
 " Not so ! " said his companions. " Renaud is safe in 
 the Castle of Montauban ; he would never venture as 
 far north as this. But 'tis a very gallant steed ! " 
 
 " Renaud's or another's, I care not," said the traveller. 
 " See how rich is his harness and his stirrups of gold ! 
 Let the man who catches him take him to Paris and 
 make a present of him to the Emperor. Methinks that 
 man shall have a rich reward." 
 
 At once the countrymen attempted to catch the 
 horse, who threw up his head, ran a few paces off, and 
 continued to crop the grass. This he repeated whenever 
 they approached him, until at length they had to confess 
 that theirs was a hopeless task. Then the traveller, 
 who had watched their attempts with jeers, drew near 
 the horse, and waving his hands, uttered some magic 
 spells, while at the same time he threw over his head 
 a fine white powder. The creature stood still with 
 bowed neck, quivering in every limb, and the traveller, 
 seizing his reins, sprang upon his back and set off at a 
 speed like the wind towards Paris. 
 
 When the Emperor arose next morning, word was 
 brought him that a matchless horse stood in the court- 
 yard before the palace and that its owner craved 
 audience of the King. 
 
 Hurrying forth to see what this might mean, Charle- 
 magne at once saw, with the keenest delight, that none 
 other than Bayard, the famous horse of Renaud, stood 
 before him.
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 111 
 
 No amount was too high to pay for such a prize ; the 
 traveller went away rich and well content, and Bayard 
 was led to the royal stables. 
 
 Meantime the unfortunate Renaud had awaked and 
 discovered his loss. Everywhere he searched and called, 
 and at length, with a heavy heart, sat down on a stone 
 by the wayside to bemoan his loss. " Woe is me ! " he 
 cried. " First I lose my father's affection and my 
 mother's tender care, then my brothers are taken from 
 me, and now my horse, my beloved Bayard, has been 
 stolen away. Why, why should I live any longer?" 
 
 "To do your duty, Sir Knight," replied a voice in 
 his ear, which made Renaud spring to his feet in alarm. 
 
 Before him stood bowing to the ground an odd figure 
 of a little old man, with a long white beard and bright 
 beady eyes. 
 
 "What do you mean, old fellow?" asked Renaud 
 somewhat peevishly. 
 
 " You are cast down. Sir Knight," replied the dwarf. 
 "But who knows what is in store for him? The wise 
 man does not lose hope, but looks about him for some 
 means of help." 
 
 " And can you find me that ? " scoffed the knight. 
 
 " What will you give me if I do ? " asked the little man. 
 
 " Take my golden spurs — for what use are they with- 
 out a horse to ride?" said Renaud, unbuckling them as 
 he spoke. 
 
 "And what else have you to offer?" quietly asked 
 his companion, as the priceless spurs disappeared 
 beneath his cloak. 
 
 Then Renaud began to look displeased. " What 
 have you to offer in return, I should like to know?" he 
 said. " I have a good mind to offer you a sound box on 
 the ear for your grasping spirit." 
 
 " Nay, nay, good sir, that would be unwise indeed," 
 said the little man quietly ; " for many have sought 
 favours from me in my day, and have laid their richest
 
 112 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 gifts at my feet in order to buy one tenth part of the 
 help I can give to you." 
 
 " Take this cloak, then," and with these words Renaud 
 unbuckled his rich velvet mantle, stiff with golden em- 
 broidery, which the dwarf deftly folded up and tucked 
 under his shabby cloak. 
 
 Then he bowed again and asked gently, " And what 
 next has my lord to offer ? " 
 
 At this Renaud's wrath knew no bounds. Drawing 
 his sword Flamberg from its scabbard, he held it 
 threateningly over the old man's head, crying, " Now will 
 I offer thee but one blow of my good sword, for thou art 
 a robber and naught else." 
 
 " Is that so. Sir Renaud ? " smiled the dwarf. " Then 
 wouldst thou slay Maugis, thy cousin, who can indeed 
 be of help to thee in time of need." And with that he 
 pulled off his beard, threw back his hood, and stood 
 revealed as Maugis the Magician. 
 
 " You have a good heart, my cousin," said he ; " and 
 now put yourself in my hands. Fear not ; your brothers 
 are in prison, but are yet alive, and Bayard is in the 
 hands of Charlemagne. Only do as I tell you, and all 
 shall yet be free as the air." 
 
 With these words he took from his wallet a shabby 
 pilgrim's gown and hood, like his own, and bidding the 
 knight hide his helmet in the grass, he put this upon 
 him, so that it covered him from head to foot and only 
 half revealed his face. 
 
 Thus| disguised the two men proceeded on their way 
 to Paris. 
 
 Three days later the streets of that city were gay with 
 a fine procession, which passed from the palace to a 
 field where a tournament was to be held. In the midst 
 rode the Emperor in cloth of gold, and in front of him 
 paced the noble steed Bayard, led by four grooms, and 
 richly caparisoned in silk, softest leather, and fine crim- 
 son cloth embroidered with white lilies,
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 113 
 
 " Whose horse is that ? " asked a bent old pilgrim of 
 a citizen who stood near him on the bridge over the 
 River Seine. 
 
 " That remains to be seen," replied the man. " The 
 Emperor has promised him to the man who in the lists 
 to-day can most easily mount and ride him ; for up to 
 now he lets no man put foot in his stirrups." 
 
 " And who gave him to the Emperor ? " asked Maugis, 
 for it was he. 
 
 Before the citizen could answer, the procession sud- 
 denly was thrown into confusion. The horse Bayard 
 had stopped short, thrown up his head, scattering his 
 grooms right and left, and with a loud neigh had 
 galloped across the bridge and laid his nose on the 
 shoulder of the taller of the two poorly clad pilgrims. 
 
 There was a cry of " Bayard ! " from the peers 
 who rode at Charlemagne's right hand, and the King 
 himself pushed forward and caught at the horse's 
 reins. 
 
 " Gracious sovereign ! " cried the dwarf, throwing him- 
 self before the King's own steed. " A boon ! A boon ! I 
 crave a boon ! " 
 
 " Say on then," said the Emperor, always gentle to 
 pilgrims, monks, and women; and the dwarf continued — ■ 
 
 " Sire, my comrade here is deaf and dumb and blind 
 from his birth. But a wise man hath foretold that if he 
 could but once ride in a tournament, even though he 
 be no knight, a miracle shall take place and he shall be 
 healed." 
 
 " He is mad ! " cried the courtiers ; but the Emperor 
 said — 
 
 " No matter if he is. Push on to the field and let us 
 see what he can do." 
 
 Now when that tournament began, all the flower of 
 Charlemagne's knights strove again and again to mount 
 and ride good Bayard ; but not one of them would he 
 allow to set his foot in his stirrups. At length the dwarf
 
 114 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 appeared again before the King, leading the taller 
 pilgrim, and reminding the King of his promise. 
 
 " The horse will kill him. Let him try a gentler 
 steed," said Charlemagne. 
 
 But the little man answered, " What matter if he kill 
 him ? Is his life so dear that he should seek to pro- 
 long it?" 
 
 So the Emperor gave orders that the horse should be 
 held while others lifted the afflicted man upon his back. 
 No sooner had the foot of the pilgrim touched the 
 stirrup than he leaped upon him and bending, whis- 
 pered " Bayard ! " in his ear. Like a flash of light- 
 ning the animal sprang forward, dashed over the field 
 into the river, swam across, and took the road to the 
 south before the astonished onlookers could say a word. 
 On flew the horse, swifter and swifter, never stopping 
 till he stood panting and weary before the gates of the 
 Castle of Montauban. And so the troubles of Renaud 
 came for a while to an end. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE OATH OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 DURING the uproar that followed the escape of 
 Renaud the dwarf Maugis seemed to have van- 
 ished. Search was made everywhere for a pilgrim in 
 worn and shabby cloak, but no such person appeared 
 to exist within the walls of Paris, 
 
 But at midnight a little grey man slipped quietly into 
 the gloomy prison tower that stood hard by the King's 
 palace. Whispering a word to the sleepy warders, he 
 passed on unchecked till he came to an iron door which 
 seemed to open of its own accord. This led into 
 a dark and noisome cell, where three figures, heavily 
 chained, lay upon the damp, unwholesome floor.
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 115 
 
 "Rise, cousins," said the dwarf quietly. "It is I, 
 Maugis, come to set you free." 
 
 With that he quickly unfastened their fetters with 
 a tiny key which seemed to open every kind of lock, 
 and the three brothers, Allard, Guichard, and Richard, 
 dazed and stupefied, made their way out of the prison. 
 Before day broke, all four — rescued and rescuer — were 
 riding like the wind towards the Castle of Montauban. 
 
 This daring escape only served to increase the wrath 
 of Charlemagne, who now swore a great oath that he 
 would never cease the warfare until he sat at the head 
 of the banquet in the white castle of his rebellious 
 nephew. 
 
 So once more the army was summoned and took the 
 road to Montauban. There was but little chance of 
 taking the place by assault ; the only hope was to starve 
 out the garrison and play the game of waiting. But 
 Charlemagne knew that the advantage was all on the 
 side of Renaud as long as he had Maugis with him. 
 For Maugis was aware of secret paths unknown even 
 to Renaud, and there was little danger of actual starva- 
 tion for the besieged, though commons might very likely 
 run short. 
 
 Now one dark night the wise dwarf crept down the 
 mountain-side and entered the camp of Charlemagne to 
 spy out the land. He had no fear of danger, for when 
 he approached a sentry, he sprinkled a fine white powder 
 in the air which had the immediate effect of making 
 him drowsy and dull of brain. He advanced in safety 
 therefore right up to the tent of Charlemagne, and was 
 about to raise the curtain that hung before it, scattering, 
 as he did so, his powder over the man who lay stretched 
 upon the entrance, when suddenly the latter sprang up, 
 seized the dwarf in an iron grasp, and dragged him into 
 the presence of the King. 
 
 His captor was Oliver, one of Charlemagne's most 
 renowned peers, who had been on the look out for the
 
 116 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 tricky little man for a long time, and who was one of the 
 very few who were quite unaffected by his magic 
 powders. 
 
 " Ho ! It is thou ! " cried Charlemagne at sight of him. 
 " Now can we put an end to thy cunning and sorcery. 
 Bind him fast, good Oliver, take him forth and fling him 
 from the top of yonder precipice." 
 
 "Very good, my gracious liege," replied the dwarf, 
 unmoved. " My life is one of some small value to others 
 but of none to myself But it is customary, 1 believe, to 
 grant to dying men one boon." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked the King. 
 
 " That I may be allowed to live just long enough to 
 sit with you and your peers at the banquet once again," 
 said Maugis, who in former days had always been 
 a welcome guest on festive occasions. 
 
 The Emperor nodded grimly. "'Tis not much to 
 ask," he said, " and anyhow the affair will not last long." 
 
 So all that day invitations were issued and a great 
 banquet prepared ; only Oliver could not be present, 
 for he had undertaken to make a night attack upon 
 some of the followers of Renaud, who he had reason to 
 think had taken this opportunity to fetch food from 
 the valleys. 
 
 A noble array of peers sat down with Charlemagne 
 that night, and ate and drank and pledged each other 
 with right goodwill, while Maugis sat at the Emperor's 
 right hand and laughed and talked with the best of 
 them. But no one saw that every few minutes he 
 quietly cast into the air a certain amount of a powder, 
 so fine that no one could detect its presence. 
 
 Gradually a strange drowsiness overtook the ban- 
 queters. Heads began to nod and eyes to close, and 
 before the feast was over, every one save Maugis lay 
 back in his seat sound asleep. 
 
 Waiting only till the Emperor seemed to have passed 
 into the most profound slumber of all, Maugis jumped
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 117 
 
 from his seat, and with a chuckle of glee began to 
 hoist him upon his shoulders. Luckily, though he was 
 so short, the dwarfs back was very broad, and he 
 managed thus to convey the burly figure of Charlemagne 
 up the mountain-paths till he stood before the Castle of 
 Montauban. 
 
 At a word from him the gates swung open, and 
 forthwith he bore his strange burden through the midst 
 of the astonished sentries and into the great hall, where 
 Renaud and his followers were sitting. 
 
 " Here is a hostage for you, good cousins," quoth 
 Maugis with a laugh. " Keep him safe, for otherwise 
 he would have me lie to-night at the bottom of a 
 precipice." 
 
 You may imagine, if you can, the amazement of 
 Renaud and his brothers when they saw their lord and 
 uncle thus lying at their mercy. But they were honour- 
 able foes, and scorned to take advantage of him ; so 
 they carried him, still sleeping, to the finest room in the 
 castle and laid him upon a noble bed, and left him to 
 slumber in peace. 
 
 When Charlemagne awoke at noon next day he was 
 first overcome with bewilderment at his surroundings, 
 and then with fury at the way he had been tricked. In 
 vain did Renaud remind him that all was fair in love 
 and war ; finding that the Emperor's wrath only grew 
 hotter as the discussion went on, he suggested that they 
 should postpone it for a time, and that meantime the 
 Emperor would condescend to share a meal with him. 
 
 This Charlemagne would gladly have declined, but as 
 he had awakened exceedingly hungry he thought it 
 better not to do so. So descending to the great hall of 
 Montauban, he seated himself at table. 
 
 There all was arranged in royal fashion. Golden 
 cups, dishes, and plates were put before the Emperor, 
 and the most rare and delicious foods were brought in 
 and set before him. His four nephews, in courteous
 
 118 STORIES FROM OLD FRENCH ROMANCE 
 
 fashion, tasted the meals first themselves to assure him 
 they were free from poison, and afterwards served him 
 on bended knee. 
 
 All this seemed at the beginning to have a softening 
 effect upon the Emperor, but when he had finished the 
 meal he grew angry and morose again. Then came 
 Renaud and knelt before him, humbly begging for peace 
 and an end to the long feud. But Charlemagne re- 
 membered the many ways in which he had been 
 worsted by his nephews in former times and hardened 
 his heart against them. 
 
 " Open your gates to your Emperor," he cried, " for 
 he will never make peace with traitors." 
 
 " Traitors are we not," replied Renaud, " and to prove 
 it, although I have the Emperor utterly in my power, I 
 now give him full leave to depart. Open the gates and 
 let him go forth." 
 
 So Charlemagne departed ; but his great figure some- ^ 
 how looked less heroic than usual as he strode unfor- 
 giving down the mountain-side, leaving his nephews 
 looking sadly after him. 
 
 As Renaud turned back to enter the castle Maugis 
 the Dwarf stood in his way and looked darkly at him. 
 
 " Fool that thou art, O Renaud," cried the little man, 
 "and unworthy of my wiles! Why didst thou not 
 Keep him fast prisoner until thou hadst made what 
 :erms thou wilt? Now will I offer him my services, 
 since thou makest them of so little account." 
 
 " Honour comes before advantage, O Maugis," said 
 Renaud sadly but firmly. But this Maugis, not being a 
 knight, could not understand. 
 
 Now when Charlemagne had returned in safety to his 
 tent there came to him Roland, his favourite knight, 
 and heard ail his adventure. And when the story was 
 told Roland said gravely, " Surely, sire, 'tis a pity to 
 prolong this weary warfare with our kinsmen. Why 
 not grant them your forgiveness on condition that they
 
 THE CASTLE OF MONTAUBAN 119 
 
 do homage and promise their allegiance to you hence- 
 forth ? " 
 
 " I cannot do it," said Charlemagne, " for thus I 
 should break my pledged word. Dost thou forget the 
 oath that I swore that I would never cease this struggle 
 until I should feast in the Castle of Montauban ? " 
 
 "And that you have now done," said Roland 
 calmly. 
 
 The great Emperor stood for a moment wrapped in 
 thought. Then once more his jovial laugh rang out 
 as in the days of old, and clapping Roland on the 
 shoulder he cried, " Thou sayest well. My oath is now 
 fulfilled, and thou shalt be the one to offer terms forth- 
 with. Tell them all shall be forgiven and forgotten if 
 they will serve under me as loyal peers of France." 
 
 And that was how peace and joy came at that time 
 to the Castle of Montauban.
 
 Printed in Great Britain at 
 
 The Mayflower Press, Plymouth, 
 
 William Brendon & Son, Ltd.
 
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