OF REYNAUD'S END
It must now be told in a few words what Reynaud did in the Holy Land,
and what befell him afterwards.
First, then, when he was come to the city of Constantinople, he
lighted by chance on his cousin Mawgis, who was lying sick in a
certain house. So much did Mawgis rejoice to see Reynaud, that he
was straightway made whole of the sickness that he had. Then the two
went on together, and coming to Jerusalem, did excellent service for
the true faith, delivering the city out of the hand of the Sultan of
Persia, who had taken it by treachery.
This done the two departed, for they would not take any reward, and
came to Rome. There they confessed their sins to the Pope, and
having received absolution, made their way with all the speed they
could to the city of Ardennes, where the brethren and all the people
received them gladly.
Reynaud said, "I marvel much that I see not here either my wife or my
children." Richard answered, "Your sons are at Montalban in all
health and prosperity." "That is well," said Reynaud, but perceiving
that his brethren were troubled, he bade them tell him the truth, for
"I see," said he, "that you have heavy tidings." Then said Alard,
"We may not hide from you that your wife, the Lady Clare, is dead.
For when you left, she sorrowed continually, weeping both by day and
by night, and so wasted away that she died."
Reynaud said, "Take me now to the place where you buried her." So
they took him to the church wherein was her sepulchre. As he stood
there weeping, there came to him his children, for they had been
brought from Montalban, and kneeled down before him. And Reynaud
kissed them and said, "See that you be good men, for I fear that I
shall not be long with you."
Ten days afterwards he and his two sons and Mawgis departed from
Ardennes, and came to Montalban. As for Mawgis, he returned to the
Hermitage where he had dwelt at the first, and died there after seven
years, being much honoured as a holy man.
Not long after the Duke Aymon died, bequeathing much wealth to his
children. All this Reynaud divided among his brethren, keeping for
himself the castle of Montalban, and this for a time only, for he was
resolved to give up all worldly things.
In Montalban, therefore, he dwelt awhile, with his two sons, teaching
them and training them in all honourable and godly ways. When he saw
that they were each instructed in arms and in all other things that a
good knight should know, he bade his steward furnish them with goodly
clothing and arms and all other things needful. This done, he
charged them that they should bear themselves honourably. "Be
courteous," he said, "to all ladies; reverence those above you; be
ready to help those that are in need; love your neighbour; so shall
you have praise of all men." And when he had said these words, he
bade them farewell, not without tears.
How these two fared at the King's Court, how they were in great
favour with the King, and how they overcame their enemies--for the
children of a certain lord that had hated their father sought to do
them an injury--cannot be told in this place. Let it suffice to say
that they prospered exceedingly.
Now must be told the end of Reynaud. When he saw that his sons were
well established in dignity, he departed from Montalban and journeyed
to the city of Cologne, in which city there was now in course of
building a very fair church. He said to the master-mason, "Let me
now serve the masons with such things as they need." The
master-mason said, "Sir, you are more like to a king than a labourer,
and it shames me to set you to such work." Reynaud answered, "Say
not so; I will serve with a good will." And the man was well content
to have it so.
After a while, the master-mason said to him, "See you those poor men
that seek to carry a stone yonder? Go you and help them, for they
are but weaklings." So Reynaud went; he said to the men, "Go and do
what else is appointed of you, for I will deal with this stone." So
he carried the stone to its place, though it were of such a bigness
that four men could scarcely handle it. And after this he fetched
other stones and mortar, and these in such plenty that the masons had
much ado to deal with them.
When it was evening the masons came to be paid, and each man's wage
was five pennies. But when the master-mason saw Reynaud, he said,
"You shall have twenty pence, for you have laboured so as I have
never seen any man labour. And you shall have as much every day."
"Nay," answered Reynaud, "give me one penny only, that I may have
wherewithal to keep me, for I work not for wages, but for the love of
my God."
Then Reynaud found a lodging in the town, and bought for himself one
pennyworth of bread, and of this and some water he made his supper.
The next day he went to his work, and this he did many days, taking
for his wage but one penny only.
But the other masons grew jealous of him, because that he was much
better and stronger than they. So they laid a plot against him, and
on a certain day when he slept they slew him, and having put his body
into a sack, they cast it into the river.
Of the marvellous things that happened in respect of this said
Reynaud, they that will may read elsewhere. Let it suffice to say in
this place that the body was found after certain days and was
honourably buried in the church of Cologne, and that year by year a
feast is held in the memory of the Lord Reynaud, for indeed he was a
very perfect, gentle knight.
And now it remains only to tell of the horse Bayard that was
delivered, as has been said, to the King. When the host, returning
to Paris, came to the river Meuse, a millstone was tied about his
neck, and he was cast into the river. Some have said that this was
done by command of the King; but this is not a thing to be believed.
In any case, the good horse was not harmed, for he brake with his
feet the stone from off his neck, and swimming to the shore, escaped
to the forest of Ardennes, where he lived for many years, but
suffered neither man nor woman to come near him.