HOW FIERABRAS DEFIED KING CHARLES
Balan, who was admiral of the Moors in Spain, had a son, Fierabras by
name, who was the most marvellous giant that ever was born of woman.
There was no man that could be matched with him for height, and
bigness of limb, and strength of body. This Fierabras was King of
Alexandria, and ruled the whole land of Babylon from the Red Sea
eastwards. Russia also he possessed, and Cologne; he was lord,
moreover, of Jerusalem, and had possession of the Sepulchre of our
Lord. It happened on a certain day that this man came riding
furiously to the camp where King Charles lay with his army, and asked
that some one should come forth and fight with him. No man answering
him or coming forth, he fell into a great rage and sware by his god
Mahomet that he would not depart from the place till he should have
done battle with some Christian man; but still no one came forth to
him. Then he cried with a very loud and terrible voice, "King of
Paris, send out to me your strongest and bravest knight, be he
Roland, or Oliver, or Thierry, or Ogier the Dane, that he may fight
with me. Nay, and if you will send out against me six or seven of
your strongest knights, I swear by my god Mahomet that I will not
refuse to fight with them all. But if you will not send out any man,
then I will assuredly assail your camp before nightfall this very
day, and strike off your head, and lead away Roland and Oliver as
prisoners. You have come into this my land without cause, and verily
you shall depart without honour."
When he had thus spoken he lay down under a tree, and having tied his
horse to one of the boughs, took off his armour. This done, he cried
to the King, "Send now Roland or Oliver to fight with me. And if
these dare not come alone then let two others come together with
them; and if the four be afraid let six come. Ten kings have I slain
already in single combat; there was not one of them, for all that
they were mighty men of valour, that could stand against me."
When King Charles heard these threatenings and challenges he said to
Richard of Normandy, "Who is this knight that speaks so boldly?"
Duke Richard answered, "This, my lord King, is the strongest of all
men born of women, and he is persuaded that there is no king in the
whole world that is a match for him."
"For all that," said the king, "I will find one of my knights that
shall encounter him. But tell me his name."
"His name," answered Duke Richard, "is Fierabras. He is an infidel,
and has done much harm to Christian men. For he slew our lord the
Pope, and hanged many holy men and women, and to this day he holds
possession of the holy Sepulchre of our Lord."
"I am the more firmly resolved," said the King, "hearing what you
say, that one of my knights shall meet him." Thereupon he turned to
Roland and said, "I pray you, dear nephew, go forth and meet this
Turk in battle."
But Roland answered him, "Not so, fair uncle; why should I do your
bidding in this matter? Do you bear in mind what happened but
yesterday, when we were so near to being taken by the heathen, how
they fell upon us with fifty thousand men and how we the younger
knights bore the burden and brunt of the day and suffered many
grievous wounds, so that Oliver my comrade was brought near to death,
and indeed, but for your help, we had all perished? And do you
remember further how last night, when we were resting in our tents,
you, being full of wine, declared stoutly that your old knights would
have borne themselves better than we of the younger sort had done?
Now it shall be seen how these said old knights shall stand up
against this heathen man, for indeed of the younger no one will go
forth against him."
When the King heard this he smote Roland his nephew in the face with
his gauntlet so sharply that the blood gushed out abundantly.
Thereupon Roland drew his sword and would have smitten his uncle had
he not been held by the bystanders. And the King cried, "Now, this
is a most monstrous thing for any man, much more a kinsman. Seize
him, for he shall die the death for this wickedness." But when the
courtiers made as if to lay hands upon him Roland cried, "Now, if any
man touch me I will cleave his head in two." Nor did any man dare to
come near him. But Ogier the Dane said, "Now, Roland, you did ill to
threaten your uncle, whom you are bound to honour above all men."
"It is true," answered Roland. "I was greatly provoked; nevertheless
I repent of my deed."
The King said to the Peers of France, "I am much troubled in this
matter. First Roland my nephew, that should have been zealous to
help me, threatens to slay me, and then there is no man that is
willing to do battle with this pagan."
"Take courage, my lord King," said the Duke Naymes, "some one will be
found to do you this service." But the King refused to be comforted.
Now Oliver lay sick in bed, for he had been sorely wounded in battle.
But when he heard how the King and Roland had fallen out, and how
Fierabras had defied the King and his army, and no man had gone forth
to meet him, he straightway rose from his bed and began to stretch
and try himself to see whether by any means he could bear his armour.
In so doing he made his wounds bleed afresh. But when he had bound
them again as best he could, he said to Garin his squire, "Come,
bring me my arms, for I will go out and meet this pagan." Said Garin
the squire, "Now, my lord Oliver, have pity on yourself. You will
compass your own death." Oliver answered, "Do my bidding, for this
is an occasion of honour that no man should miss." So Oliver put on
his armour, Garin helping him. This done, he took his sword,
Hautclere by name, which he loved above all things. Then they
brought him Ferraunt his horse, ready saddled and bridled. And
Oliver leapt lightly into the saddle without so much as touching it,
and put his shield into place, and took a spear very long and sharply
pointed. Then he struck his horse with his spurs, and Ferraunt leapt
up under him. It was a noble sight to see, so gallant was the knight
and so brave the steed.
Oliver rode up to the King's tent and saluted him, saying, "My lord,
I have served you faithfully for these three years past without
reward or wages. I pray you, therefore, that you give me this day
the thing I shall desire of you." The King answered, "Most noble
Earl, I will do this with a good will. There is not in this land of
France a city or town or castle that I will not give you at your
desire." But Oliver said, "My lord King, I ask neither towns nor
castles, but only this--that you suffer me to do battle with this
pagan."
When the other knights heard this they were not a little shamed that
a wounded man should take up the challenge, while they themselves
held back. "What is this," they said, "that Oliver, who was hurt
well-nigh to death, would now go forth to battle!" As for the King,
he said, "Now, Oliver, you have surely lost your wits. You know that
you have been sorely wounded, and yet you will run into a worse
danger. Go back to your bed and rest; assuredly I will not suffer
you to do battle with this pagan."
Then Ganelon, who was afterwards the traitor, rose up in his place
and said, "Sir, this is against the custom of France that you should
deny Oliver his request." The King was very angry and said,
"Ganelon, you are not well disposed in this matter. If this be as
you say, then Oliver shall fight with this pagan, and if he fight,
then he can hardly escape death. But mark you this: I swear by my
faith that if he be slain or taken in this battle, then not all the
gold in the world can save you from a shameful death; aye, and all
your house shall perish with you."
"Sir King," said Ganelon, "may God and Our Lady keep me!" but to
himself he said secretly, "Now God forbid that Oliver should come
back safe. Rather may this pagan smite off his head!" But when King
Charles saw that he could not hinder Oliver from doing battle with
Fierabras, he said, "Now may God be with you, and help you, and bring
you back with joy!" and he reached to him his glove, which Oliver
took with much pleasantness and humility.
But Reyner, that was father to Oliver, when he saw his son ready to
go forth, came to the King, and knelt down at his feet, and cried in
sore trouble, "Now, my lord King, have pity on my son and me. He is
young and presumptuous, full of pride and ambition, but so sorely
wounded that he cannot fight; forbid him, therefore, to go forth."
But the King said to Reyner, "What I have given I may not withdraw."
Then Oliver stood up and spake with a loud voice, "Sir King and all
you lords of France, if I have offended any man in word or deed, I
pray him to forgive me." There was not a man but wept to hear these
words. The King himself wept, and commended him to the keeping of
God.
Oliver rode forth and came to the tree where Fierabras lay at ease
and unarmed. The giant did not so much as look at him, but turned
away his head, for he despised Oliver as being but little of stature
in comparison with himself. Oliver said to him, "Awake, you have
called me many times this day; lo! now I have come. And first tell
me your name." Fierabras answered him, "I am Fierabras, of
Alexandria. It was I that destroyed the city of Rome and slew the
Pope, and carried away the holy things. And Jerusalem is mine, and
the place where, as you say, your God is buried."
Oliver said, "If these things are true, it is time that you should
suffer due punishment for your misdeeds. But enough of talking.
Make ready and arm yourself, or else, by the God in whom I believe, I
will smite you where you lie!" When Fierabras heard him speak so
fiercely, he began to laugh, and said, "You are a bold talker, but
first tell me who you are, and of what rank." Oliver answered,
"Before night come, pagan, you shall know full well who I am. But
now hear this: my lord the King has sent this message by my mouth:
'Renounce Mahomet your God, and all other idols, and believe in the
true God that made heaven and earth and all that is therein.
Meanwhile take your choice of two things: either depart out of this
country, taking nothing with you, or stand forth and fight with me.'"
Fierabras said, "Fellow, you are not able to meet me, even were I
without arms. But tell me now thy name and lineage." Oliver
answered, "My name is Garin, and I am a poor knight; King Charles has
sent me to do battle with you; make ready, therefore, for battle."
But Fierabras would not consent. "Now tell me, Sir Garin," said he,
"why Roland, or Oliver, or Ogier the Dane, who are all, men say, of
high renown, have not come out against me." "They have not come,"
answered Oliver, "because they think too meanly of you."
This he said with such vehemence that his wounds opened again. When
Fierabras saw the blood he said, "Are you perchance wounded, Sir
Garin?" "Not I," answered Oliver; "this blood that you see comes
from my horse where I spurred him." But Fierabras saw that the blood
was not from the horse and said: "You speak no truth when you say
that you are not hurt. This is no horse's blood but of your own body
that I see. Now drink of this flagon of balm that I took from the
city of Jerusalem. When you have drunken you shall be whole in body,
and then you shall be fit to defend yourself in battle." But Oliver
would have none of it. "This," said he, "is but folly."