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The Emperor Charlemagne and his twelve peers, having taken the palmer’s
staff at Saint-Denis, made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. They prostrated
themselves before the tomb of Our Lord, and sat in the thirteen chairs
of the great hall wherein Jesus Christ and his Apostles met together
to celebrate the blessed sacrifice of the Mass. Then they fared to
Constantinople, being fain to see King Hugo, who was renowned for his
magnificence.
The King welcomed them in his Palace, where, beneath a golden dome,
birds of ruby, wrought with a wondrous art, sat and sang in bushes of
emerald.
He seated the Emperor of France and the twelve Counts about a table
loaded with stags, boars, cranes, wild geese, and peacocks, served in
pepper. And he offered his guests, in ox-horns, the wines of Greece and
Asia to drink. Charlemagne and his companions quaffed all these wines
in honour of the King and his daughter, the Princess Helen. After supper
Hugo led them to the chamber where they were to sleep. Now this chamber
was circular, and a column, springing in the midst thereof, carried the
vaulted roof. Nothing could be finer to look upon. Against the walls,
which were hung with gold and purple, twelve beds were ranged, while
another greater than the rest stood beside the pillar.
Charlemagne lay in this, and the Counts stretched themselves round about
him on the others. The wine they had drunk ran hot in their veins, and
their brains were afire. They could not sleep, and fell to making brags
instead, and laying of wagers, as is the way of the knights of France,
each striving to outdo the other in warranting himself to do some
doughty deed for to manifest his prowess. The Emperor opened the game.
He said:
“Let them fetch me, a-horseback and fully armed, the best knight King
Hugo hath. I will lift my sword and bring it down upon him in such wise
it shall cleave helm and hauberk, saddle and steed, and the blade shall
delve a foot deep underground.”
Guillaume d’Orange spake up after the Emperor and made the second brag.
“I will take,” said he, “a ball of iron sixty men can scarce lift, and
hurl it so mightily against the Palace wall that it shall beat down
sixty fathoms’ length thereof.”
Ogier, the Dane, spake next.
“Ye see yon proud pillar which bears up the vault. To-morrow will I tear
it down and break it like a straw.”
After which Renaud de Montauban cried with an oath:
“‘Od’s life! Count Ogier, whiles you overset the pillar, I will clap the
dome on my shoulders and hale it down to the seashore.”
Gérard de Rousillon it was made the fifth brag.
He boasted he would uproot single-handed, in one hour, all the trees in
the Royal pleasaunce.
Aimer took up his parable when Gérard was done.
“I have a magic hat,” said he, “made of a sea-calf’s skin, which renders
me invisible. I will set it on my head, and to-morrow, whenas King Hugo
is seated at meat, I will eat up his fish and drink down his wine, I
will tweak his nose and buffet his ears. Not knowing whom or what
to blame, he will clap all his serving-men in gaol and scourge them
sore,--and we shall laugh.”
“For me,” declared Huon de Bordeaux, whose turn it was, “for me, I am
so nimble I will trip up to the King and cut off his beard and eyebrows
without his knowing aught about the matter. ‘T is a piece of sport I
will show you to-morrow. And I shall have no need of a sea-calf hat
either!”
Doolin de Mayence made his brag too. He promised to eat up in one
hour all the figs and all the oranges and all the lemons in the King’s
orchards.
Next the Due Naisme said in this wise:
“By my faith! _I_ will go into the banquet hall, I will catch up flagons
and cups of gold and fling them so high they will never light down again
save to tumble into the moon.”
Bernard de Brabant then lifted his great voice:
“I will do better yet,” he roared. “Ye know the river that flows by
Constantinople is broad and deep, for it is come nigh its mouth by then,
after traversing Egypt, Babylon, and the Earthly Paradise. Well, I will
turn it from its bed and make it flood the Great Square of the City.”
Gérard de Viane said:
“Put a dozen knights in line of array. And I will tumble all the twelve
on their noses, only by the wind of my sword.”
It was the Count Roland laid the twelfth wager, in the fashion
following:
“I will take my horn, I will go forth of the city and I will blow such a
blast all the gates of the town will drop from their hinges.”
Olivier alone had said no word yet. He was young and courteous, and the
Emperor loved him dearly.
“Olivier, my son,” he asked, “will you not make your brag like the rest
of us?”
“Right willingly, sire,” Olivier replied.
“Do you know the name of Hercules of Greece?”
“Yea, I have heard some discourse of him,” said Charlemagne. “He was an
idol of the misbelievers, like the false god Mahound.”
“Not so, sire,” said Olivier. “Hercules of Greece was a knight among
the Pagans and King of a Pagan kingdom. He was a gallant champion and
stoutly framed in all his limbs. Visiting the Court of a certain Emperor
who had fifty daughters, virgins, he wedded them all on one and the same
night, and that so well and throughly that next morning they all avowed
themselves well-contented women and with naught left to learn. He had
not slighted ever a one of them. Well, sire, an you will, I will lay my
wager to do after the fashion of Hercules of Greece.”
“Nay, beware, Olivier, my son,” cried the Emperor, “beware what you do;
the thing would be a sin. I felt sure this King Hercules was a Saracen!”
“Sire,” returned Olivier, “know this--I warrant me to show in the same
space of time the selfsame prowess with one virgin that Herailes of
Greece did with fifty. And the maid shall be none other but the Princess
Helen, King Hugo’s daughter.”
“Good and well,” agreed Charlemagne; “that will be to deal honestly and
as a good Christian should. But you were in the wrong, my son, to drag
the fifty virgins of King Hercules into your business, wherein, the
Devil fly away with me else, I can see but one to be concerned.”
“Sire,” answered Olivier mildly, “there is but one of a truth. But she
shall win such satisfaction of me that, an I number the tokens of my
love, you will to-morrow see fifty crosses scored on the wall, and that
is _my_ brag.”
The Count Olivier was yet speaking when lo! the column which bare the
vault opened. The pillar was hollow and contrived in such sort that
a man could lie hid therein at his ease to see and hear everything.
Charlemagne and the twelve Counts had never a notion of this; so they
were sore surprised to behold the King of Constantinople step forth. He
was white with anger and his eyes flashed fire.
He said in a terrible voice:
“So this is how ye show your gratitude for the hospitality I offer you.
Ye are ill-mannered guests. For a whole hour have ye been insulting me
with your bragging wagers. Well, know this,--you, Sir Emperor, and ye,
his knights; if to-morrow ye do not all of you make good your boasts, I
will have your heads cut off.”
Having said his say, he stepped back within the pillar, which shut to
again closely behind him. For a while the twelve paladins were dumb
with wonder and consternation. The Emperor was the first to break the
silence.
“Comrades,” he said, “‘tis true we have bragged too freely. Mayhap we
have spoken things better unsaid. We have drunk overmuch wine, and have
shown unwisdom. The chiefest fault is mine; I am your Emperor, and I
gave you the bad example. I will devise with you to-morrow of the means
whereby we may save us from this perilous pass; meantime, it behoves us
to get to sleep. I wish you a good night. God have you in his keeping!”
A moment later the Emperor and the twelve peers were snoring under their
coverlets of silk and cloth of gold.
They awoke on the morrow, their minds still distraught and deeming the
thing was but a nightmare. But anon soldiers came to lead them to the
Palace, that they might make good their brags before the King’s face.
“Come,” cried the Emperor, “come; and let us pray God and His Holy
Mother. By Our Lady’s help shall we easily make good our brags.”
He marched in front with a more than human majesty of port. Arriving
anon at the King’s Palace, Charlemagne, Naisme, Aimer, Huon, Doolin,
Guillaume, Ogier, Bernard, Renaud, the two Gérards, and Roland fell on
their knees and, joining their hands in prayer, made this supplication
to the Holy Virgin:
“Lady, which art in Paradise, look on us now in our extremity; for love
of the Realm of the Lilies, which is thine own, protect the Emperor of
France and his twelve peers, and give them the puissance to make good
their brags.”
Thereafter they rose up comforted and fulfilled of bright courage and
gallant confidence, for they knew that Our Lady would answer their
prayer.
King Hugo, seated on a golden throne, accosted them, saying:
“The hour is come to make good your brags. But an if ye fail so to do, I
will have your heads cut off. Begone therefore, straightway, escorted by
my men-at-arms, each one of you to the place meet for the doing of the
fine things ye have insolently boasted ye will accomplish.”
At this order they separated and went divers ways, each followed by a
little troop of armed men. Whiles some returned to the hall where they
had passed the night, others betook them to the gardens and orchards.
Bernard de Brabant made for the river, Roland hied him to the ramparts,
and all marched valiantly. Only Olivier and Charlemagne tarried in the
Palace, waiting, the one for the knight that he had sworn to cleave in
twain, the other for the maiden he was to wed.
But in very brief while a fearful sound arose, awful as the last trump
that shall proclaim to mankind the end of the world. It reached the
Great Hall of the Palace, set the birds of ruby trembling on their
emerald perches and shook King Hugo on his throne of gold.
‘Twas a noise of walls crumbling into ruin and floods roaring, and
high above the din blared out an ear-splitting trumpet blast. Meanwhile
messengers had come hurrying in from all quarters of the city, and
thrown themselves trembling at the King’s feet, bearing strange and
terrible tidings.
“Sire,” said one, “sixty fathoms’ length of the city walls is fallen in
at one crash.”
“Sire,” cried another, “the pillar which bare up your vaulted hall is
broken down, and the dome thereof we have seen walking like a tortoise
toward the sea.”
“Sire,” faltered a third, “the river, with its ships and its fishes,
is pouring through the streets, and will soon be beating against your
Palace walls.”
King Hugo, white with terror, muttered:
“By my faith! these men are wizards.”
“Well, Sir King,” Charlemagne addressed him with a smile on his lips,
“the Knight I wait for is long of coming.”
The King sent for him, and he came. He was a knight of stately stature
and well armed. The good Emperor clave him in twain, as he had said.
Now while these things were a-doing, Olivier thought to himself:
“The intervention of Our Most Blessed Lady is plain to see in these
marvels; and I am rejoiced to behold the manifest tokens she vouchsafes
of her love for the Realm of France. Not in vain have the Emperor and
his companions implored the succour of the Holy Virgin, Mother of God.
Alas! _I_ shall pay for all the rest, and have my head cut off. For I
cannot well ask the Virgin Mary to help me make good _my_ brag. ‘Tis
an enterprise of a sort wherein ‘twould be indiscreet to crave the
interference of Her who is the _Lily of Purity_, the _Tower of Ivory_,
the _Guarded Door_ and the _Fenced Orchard-Close_. And, lacking aid from
on high, I am sore afraid I may not do so much as I have said.”
Thus ran Olivier’s thoughts, when King Hugo roughly accosted him with
the words:
“‘T is now your turn, Count, to fulfil your promise.”
“Sire,” replied Olivier, “I am waiting with great impatience for the
Princess your daughter. For you must needs do me the priceless grace of
giving me her hand.”
“That is but fair,” said King Hugo. “I will therefore bid her come to
you and a chaplain with her for to celebrate the marriage.”
At church, during the ceremony, Olivier reflected:
“The maid is sweet and comely as ever a man could desire, and too fain
am I to clip her in my arms to regret the brag I have made.”
That evening, after supper, the Princess Helen and the Count Olivier
were escorted by twelve ladies and twelve knights to a chamber, wherein
the twain were left alone together.
There they passed the night, and on the morrow guards came and led them
both before King Hugo. He was on his throne, surrounded by his knights.
Near by stood Charlemagne and the peers.
“Well, Count Olivier,” demanded the King, “is your brag made good?”
Olivier held his peace, and already was King Hugo rejoiced at heart
to think his new son-in-law’s head must fall. For of all the brags and
boasts, it was Olivier’s had angered him worst.
“Answer,” he stormed. “Do you dare to tell me your brag is
accomplished?”
Thereupon the Princess Helen, blushing and smiling, spake with eyes
downcast and in a faint voice, yet clear withal, and said,--“Yea!”
Right glad were Charlemagne and the peers to hear the Princess say this
word.
“Well, well,” said Hugo, “these Frenchmen have God and the Devil
o’ their side. It was fated I should cut off none of these knights’
heads.... Come hither, son-in-law,”--and he stretched forth his hand to
Olivier, who kissed it.
The Emperor Charlemagne embraced the Princess and said to her:
“Helen, I hold you for my daughter and my son’s wife. You will go along
with us to France, and you will live at our Court.”
Then, as his lips lay on the Princess’s cheek, he rounded softly in her
ear:
“You spake as a loving-hearted woman should. But tell me this in closest
confidence,--Did you speak the truth?”
She answered:
“Sire, Olivier is a gallant man and a courteous. He was so full of
pretty ways and dainty devices for to distract my mind, _I_ never
thought of counting. Nor yet did _he_ keep score. Needs therefore must I
hold him quit of his promise.”
King Hugo made great rejoicings for his daughter’s nuptials. Thereafter
Charlemagne and his twelve peers returned back to France, taking with
them the Princess Helen.