CHAPTER XXXIV

HOW CHARLEMAGNE SOUGHT VENGEANCE

Not many hours after these things King Charles came to Roncesvalles.

It was a grievous sight that he saw; there was not a foot of earth on

which there lay not the body of some Frenchman or heathen. And the

King cried aloud, calling the dead men by name. "Where are you,

Roland?" he said; "and you, Oliver?" All the Twelve Peers whom he

had left behind to guard the passes he called, but no man answered.

Charles wept for sadness of heart, and his nobles wept with him;

there was not one of all that company but had lost son or brother or

comrade or friend. Then spake up the Duke Naymes, "Sire," said he,

"see you that cloud of dust, two leagues away? 'Tis the dust of a

great multitude, even of the heathen army. Ride, Sire, and take

vengeance for these warriors whom you have lost." "What!" answered

the King, "are they already so far? Then must we make haste, for

they have robbed me of the very flower of France." Then he turned to

his nobles, and called four by name, and said to them, "Guard this

field, these valleys and these hills. Let the dead lie as they are,

but take good care that no beast of the field touch them, nor any

follower of the camp. Make sure that no one lay a hand upon them

till I come back." And the four answered, "So will we do, Sire;" and

the King left with them a thousand horsemen for a guard.

This done, he made haste to pursue the army of the heathen. The day

was drawing to sunset, but yet he overtook the enemy before darkness

fell. Some say that God wrought a great miracle for the King,

staying the sun in the heaven, till he should have avenged him of his

enemies. Be that as it may, this is certain, that he overtook the

Saracens and slew them with a great slaughter. Many fell by the

sword, and they who escaped the sword threw themselves into the

river, the river Ebro, and thus perished by drowning. And the men of

France cried, mocking them, "You have seen Roland; but it has not

turned to your good."

And now the night came on, and the King said, "We must think of our

camp; 'tis over-late to return to Roncesvalles." "It is well,"

answered his nobles. So they unsaddled their horses, and laid

themselves down on the green grass and slept. None kept watch that

night. As for the King, he lay down to rest in a certain meadow, his

spear by his pillow, for he would not be far from his arms. His good

sword Joyous was on his side. It was a marvellous weapon, for it had

in its hilt the iron of the spear with which the side of the Lord

Christ was pierced as He hung upon the cross. For a time the King

thought with tears about the good knights whom he had lost, Roland

his nephew, and many another who had fallen on his field. But at

last his weariness overcame him, and he slept. And as he slept he

dreamed two dreams. In the first dream he saw how there gathered a

great tempest in the heavens, with thunders and lightnings and hail

and wind, and how this fell upon his army, and how the lances caught

fire, and how the shields glowed with heat, and the corslets rattled

with the stroke of the hail. After this he saw how a multitude of

wild beasts, bears, and leopards, and snakes, and monsters such as

griffins rushed upon the host as to devour them. And he heard the

men cry, "Help us, King Charles, help us!" But when he would have

gone to help them a great lion out of the forest flew on him. Then

he and the great beast wrestled together. But who prevailed, he knew

not. He did not wake from his sleep, but his dream was changed. And

the second dream that he dreamed was this: He thought he was at his

palace at Aachen, and that he sat upon steps, holding a bear that was

bound with a double chain. And in his dream he saw how that there

came out of the forest of Ardennes thirty other bears who spake each

with the voice of a man. "Give him back to us, Sire," they said.

"It is not right that you should keep him so long. He is our

kinsman, and we must help him." And then--this was his dream--a fair

greyhound came and attacked the greatest of these wild beasts. But

who was the conqueror in this conflict also, he could not see. After

this King Charles awoke from his sleep.

Meanwhile King Marsilas came in his flight to Saragossa. He gave his

sword and his armour to his servants, and laid himself down in sore

distress upon the green grass under an olive-tree. He had lost his

right hand, and was faint with the bleeding. Loudly did his Queen

Branimonde lament over him. As for his servants they cursed King

Charles and the land of France, and vehemently reproached their god

Apollyon. "Villain of a god!" they cried, "why dost thou put us to

such shame? Why dost thou so confound our King? This is an ill

return to those who do thee honour." So saying they took from the

god his sceptre and crown, and brake him to pieces with their staves.

Never before was a god so ill-treated of his worshippers.

Then said the Queen to herself, in the midst of her tears, "Now a

curse upon these gods who have failed us in the day of battle. We

have the Emir only who can help us. Surely he cannot be so base as

not to fight against these men of France!" So King Marsilas sent an

ambassador praying him for help. "Of a truth," he said, "if you fail

me I will cast away my gods, and take upon me the faith of Christ,

and make peace with King Charles."

When the Emir heard this he gathered together the people of his four

kingdoms, and put them on board a fleet of ships, and set forth to

sea. Quickly did they come to the land of Spain; nor did they halt

till they came to the city of Saragossa. Then the servants of the

Emir spread on the grass a carpet of white silk, and on it they set

an ivory chair. The Emir sat upon it, and his chiefs stood round

about.

"Listen!" said the Emir, "This Charles has troubled the land of Spain

too long. I will attack him in his own country, even in France.

Nothing shall hinder me from bringing him to my feet or slaying him."

And as he spake he struck his knee with the gauntlet of his right

hand. Then he called to him two of his chiefs and said, "Go now to

King Marsilas and say to him: I come to help you against the men of

France. Come and pay me homage, and I will make war upon King

Charles, even in his own land of France. Verily if he do not fall at

my feet and beg for pardon, and renounce the faith of Christ, I will

tear his crown from his head. Take him also, for a token, this

gauntlet and this staff of gold." And all his nobles cried, "It is

well said."

So the two envoys went, carrying, one the gauntlet and the other the

staff. When they had passed through the gates of Saragossa, they saw

a great multitude of men lamenting. "The gods have dealt ill with

us," said they; "our King is wounded to the death, and his son is

dead, and Spain will be the prey of the Christian dogs." When they

were come to the palace they made their salutations, saying,

"Now may Apollyon and Mahomet have King Marsilas and Queen Branimonde

in their keeping!" "Nay," said the Queen, "what folly is this? Our

gods have deserted us. See what they suffered to befall the King my

husband." The envoy answered, "A truce to such words! The Emir our

master bade us say, 'I will deliver King Marsilas; as for this

Charles, I will attack him in his own land of France. This gauntlet

and this staff he sends for a proof of his words.'" Queen Branimonde

made answer, "You have no need to go to France. Here in this land of

Spain you may meet King Charles, and of a truth you will find him a

great warrior."

Then said the King, "You see, my lords, that I am in evil case. I

have none to come after me, neither son nor daughter. A son I had

but yesterday, but the Count Roland slew him. Say to your master for

me, I yield you this land of Spain; only guard it against the

Christians! And bid him come to me; I will give him useful counsel

about King Charles; and take him the keys of this city of Saragossa.

As for Charles he is encamped by the river Ebro, seven leagues hence.

There will the Emir find him, for of a truth the men of France will

not refuse the battle."

Then the envoys returned to the Emir, and told him all that

happened--how King Charles had left Roland and the Peers to guard the

passes, and how they had been slain, and what great loss King

Marsilas had suffered, and how he yielded to him the whole land of

Spain, and how King Charles and his men were in camp by the Ebro.

Then the Emir commanded his men that they should make ready for the

march. "Make haste," he said, "or these Frenchmen will escape us."

Meanwhile King Charles had made search for the body of his nephew,

the Count Roland, and for the others that had fallen with him. And

when these had been found, he caused that the rest should be buried

with great honour, but three of the bodies, Roland, to wit, and

Oliver, and Turpin the Archbishop, he commanded to be set aside. The

hearts of these three were taken out of their bodies and wrapped in

silk, and then enclosed in coffins of white marble. But the bodies

were wrapped in deer-skins, with store of spices, and set each in a

carriage, that they might be taken to the town of Blois.

When these things had been done, there came two envoys from the Emir,

bearing this message. "The Emir brings against you a great army from

the land of Arabia. Take heed, therefore, for he will make proof of

you to-day, whether you are indeed a man of courage."

The King made no answer to these words, save that he cried to his

men, with a loud voice, "To arms! To arms!" Then without delay he

armed himself, donning his corslet and lacing his helmet, and taking

in his hand his good sword Joyous, and when he had mounted his good

steed he rode forth in front of his army. "Never was more kingly

man!" said all the army. And the King said, as he looked upon the

army, "Who would not trust such men? If only these heathen stand

their ground, surely they shall pay dearly for the death of Roland."

"God grant it be so!" said the Duke Naymes. Then the King called to

him two lords: "You shall take the place of Roland and Oliver; one of

you shall carry the sword, and one the horn." And after this he set

his whole army in array.

Meanwhile the envoys of the Emir returned to him. "We have seen King

Charles," they said. "He is brave, and brave are they that follow

him, nor will they fail the King. You will have to do battle with

them. Therefore arm yourself." "That is good news for all that are

of a good courage," said the Emir. "Sound the trumpets, that my

people may make themselves ready." A mighty warrior was he, with

deep chest and broad shoulders, over which his hair fell in curls,

with fair face and shining eyes; of his courage he had given proofs

without number. What a gallant knight he had been, were he but a

Christian man! He had a sword of renown, which he called Precious,

and a great bear-spear, Matté by name. A gallant knight also was the

Prince Malprime, his son. "Forward, Sire," said the Prince to his

father. "Shall we see King Charles to-day?" "Yes," answered the

Emir, "for he is a brave man, and all speak of him with honour.

Nevertheless, now that he has lost the Count Roland his nephew, he

can scarcely hold his ground before us. Yet we shall have a great

battle to fight." "Be it so," said the Prince. "I ask from you the

honour of striking the first blow." "It shall be yours," said the

Emir.

Then the Emir set his battle in array, so that the two hosts stood

over against each other. There was neither hill nor valley nor

forest between them; each was in full sight of the other. Splendid

and terrible they were to view, so brightly shone the helmets and

bucklers and shields and spears. And bright and clear was the sound

of the trumpets; but the brightest and clearest of all was the horn

of Charles the great King. And first the Emir rode forth in front of

his army. "Follow me!" he cried to his army, "I will show you the

way." And he brandished his spear, turning the point towards the

King of France. And King Charles, on his part, when he saw the Emir,

and his standard, the Dragon, borne after him, cried with a loud

voice, "Lords of France, you have fought many battles, and now there

is yet one more for you to fight. See, then, this host of heathens.

Many they are in number. But what matters the multitude of them?

Follow me!" Thereupon he spurred his charger. The good steed

bounded forward, and all the men of France cried out, "A brave man is

our King; not one of us will fail him." The first that dealt a blow

to the enemy was the Count Rabel. Spurring his horse, he charged

Torlen, the King of Persia, and struck his shield fairly with his

spear. The good steel pierced shield and corslet, and the King fell

dead upon the field. "Strike! strike for Charles and the Right!"

cried all the men of France when they saw the Persian fall.

On the other side the Prince Malprime, son to the Emir, rode forward

on his white horse, charging into the midst of the army of France,

and striking down warrior after warrior. "See!" cried the Emir,

"see, my son, how he is seeking for the King of the French! There is

no better soldier than he. Follow him and the victory shall be

yours, and all the prizes of victory, lands, and castles, and gold

and fair women." Nor did the chiefs of the heathen delay to charge.

Fiercely did they ride forward, and the battle raged over the plain.

When the Duke Naymes saw how the Prince Malprime was breaking the

ranks of France, dealing death at every blow, he charged him, spear

in rest. He drave the point through the upper rim of his shield and

through his corslet, deep into his side, and laid him dead on the

field. But when King Canaben, who was uncle to the Prince, saw what

had befallen his nephew, he rode at the Duke, and, drawing his sword,

dealt him a great blow on the helmet. Half of the helmet and laces

wherewith it was laced were shorn off by the stroke, and the edge of

the sword touched the flesh itself. The Duke yet clung with one arm

to the neck of his horse; if the heathen deal him another such blow

he is lost. But, thanks to God, King Charles came to his help. He

struck King Canaben through the vizor of his helmet with his

boar-spear, and with the one blow laid him dead to the ground.

Elsewhere in the field the Emir wrought great havoc in the ranks of

France, slaying chief after chief, among them the old man Richard,

Duke of the Normans. Behind him followed many heathen knights. Many

valorous deeds they did. Where the Emir led the ranks of the heathen

there the men of France suffered grievous loss, and now there came

one who brought him tidings of ill. "The Prince Malprime, your son,

is slain," said the man; "also King Canaben, your brother, is slain."

The Emir had well-nigh died of grief to hear such evil news; but he

called to him one of his wisest counsellors. "Come near," said he;

"you are loyal and wise, and I have ever followed your counsel. Tell

me now, will the day go for the Arabs or for the men of France?"

"Sire," the sage replied, "you are in evil case. As for your gods,

look not to them for help. Call now your Turks and Arabs, and, above

all, your Giants to the front. With them you may yet win the day."

Then the Emir put his horn to his mouth and blew a call, loud and

clear. The Turks and the Arabs and the Giants answered thereto.

Mighty warriors they were, and fierce was the charge they made; so

fierce that they brake the army of France in twain. But when Ogier

the Dane saw what had befallen the King's army he said to him, "See

you how the heathen are breaking our ranks and slaying our men. If

you would bear your crown where it should be borne you must strike

with all your might."

Then the King rode forward, and with him the Duke Naymes, and Ogier

the Dane, and Geoffrey Count of Anjou. All quitted themselves as

good knights, but there was none who bore himself so bravely as Ogier

the Dane. Many he slew, among them the heathen knight who carried

the Emir's standard. Sore discouraged was the Emir when he saw his

standard in the dust, but the heart of King Charles was high with

hope. "Sons of France, will you help me?" he cried. "'Tis a wrong

even to ask us," said they; "cursed be he who shall not strike with

his whole heart!" And now, as the day drew to the evening, these two

met in combat, King Charles and the Emir. Fierce was the encounter

between them, and many and sore were the blows they dealt the one to

the other. At last it chanced that the bands of each man's saddle

was cleft through, so that they fell both to the ground. Quickly did

they rise to their feet, and drawing their swords, closed fiercely in

fight. It was, indeed, a battle to the death. First the Emir spoke,

saying, "King Charles, you have slain my son; you have wrongfully

invaded my land. Yet if you will pay me homage I will grant it to

you to hold in fief." "That were a foul disgrace," King Charles made

answer; "never will I grant to a heathen either peace or life.

Become a Christian, and you shall have all that I have to give."

"These are but idle words," answered the Emir; "I had sooner die."

And as he spake he dealt King Charles a mighty blow upon the helmet.

The sword brake the iron, and shore away a palm's breadth of the

scalp. The King reeled in his place, and had well-nigh fallen to the

ground. But God willed otherwise, for the angel that guarded him

whispered in his ear, "Charles, what doest thou?" And when he heard

the angel's voice he thought no more of danger or death. Gathering

all his strength into one mighty blow, he severed the enemy's head in

twain. Down to the chin he cleft it, and the Emir fell dead upon the

plain.

So soon as the heathen saw that their leader was slain they fled in

hot haste, and the men of France pursued them even to the walls of

Saragossa. There stood Queen Branimonde, with her priests about her,

waiting and watching for news of the war. But when the Queen saw the

multitude of them that fled she hastened to King Marsilas, and said

to him, "O Sire, our people are vanquished, and the Emir is dead."

When King Marsilas heard these words he turned him to the wall, and

covered his face and wept. So great was his grief that his heart was

broken in his breast, and he died.

As for the town, none of the heathen had any thought of defending it.

They suffered the gates to be broken down without any hindrance, and

the Queen surrendered to King Charles all the towers, great and

small. Of a truth, he works well who works with God.

As soon as it was day King Charles bade his men break down all the

things that the heathen counted holy. As for the people, they were

brought to the water of baptism. Such as were not willing to be

baptized into the faith, these the King caused to be hanged, or slain

with the sword, or burnt with the fire. But the greater part readily

obeyed the King's command, and were made good Christians, one hundred

thousand of them at the least.

After these things the King departed from Saragossa, leaving a

thousand men to keep the town for him. He took Queen Branimonde with

him; also he took the bodies of Roland and Oliver and of Turpin the

Archbishop, and caused them to be honourably buried at Blois.

When King Charles was come back to the fair town of Aachen, it was

told him that a fair lady desired to see him. So he commanded that

she should be brought before him. When she came back she was Alda

the Fair. She said, "Tell me, O King, where is the Earl Roland? He

is promised to be my husband." The King was greatly troubled to hear

these words. He wept and tore his white beard. "My sister," he

said, when he found his speech, "my dear sister. You ask me news of

a dead man. But comfort yourself. Roland we shall see no more, but

you shall have my son Lewis, he that is to be Warden of the Marches,

in his place." "These are strange words," said Alda the Fair; "God

and His blessed saints forbid that I should live now that my Roland

is dead," and as she spake she grew deadly pale, and fell at the

King's feet, and when they took her up, lo! she was dead. When the

King saw this he called to him four countesses and bade them carry

her to a nunnery that was hard by. All that night these noble ladies

watched by her dead body; the day following she was buried by the

altar with great honour.

Stories of Charlemagne and the twelve Peers of France · 第 34 / 40 章