IN the time of Pepin King of France was a child born in the Castle of
Bericain of a noble father of Alemaine who was of great holiness.
The father and the mother promised to God, and Saint Peter and Saint
Paul, whereas they had none other child, that if God gave it life, they
would bear it to Rome to baptism. At the same time came a vision to a
Count of Alverne, whose wife was big with child, whereby it seemed that
the Apostle of Rome was baptizing many children in his palace and
confirming them with chrism.
So when the Count was awaken he sought of many wise folk what might
signify that which he had seen in the dream. And when his vision was
uncovered, a wise man and ancient bespake him by the counsel of God:
“Make great joy, Count, for there shall be born to thee a son full of
great prowess and of great holiness; and him thou shalt let bear to Rome
and let baptize him by the Apostle.”
Thereof great joy made the Count, and he and his folk praised the counsel
of the elder.
The child was born and dearly fostered, and when he had two years, and
the father after his purpose was bearing him to Rome, he came to the city
of Lucca. And therein he found a noble man of Almaine who was wending
Romeward and bearing his son to baptism. They greeted one the other, and
each asked other who he was and what he sought, and when they found
themselves to be of one purpose they joined company in all friendliness
and entered Rome together. And the two children fell to loving one
another so sorely that one would not eat without the other, they lived of
one victual, and lay in one bed.
In this wise the fathers brought them before the Apostle at Rome, and
spake to him: “Holy Father, whom we know and believe to be in the place
of Saint Peter the Apostle, the Count of Alverne, and a noble knight of
Bericain the Castle, beseech your Holiness that ye would deign to baptize
their sons which they have brought from far away, and that ye would take
their little offering from their hands.”
And the Apostle answered them: “I hold your gifts for right acceptable,
but they are not to me of much necessity; give them to the poor, who have
need thereof. The infants will I baptize with a good will, that the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost may embrace them in the love of the
Holy Trinity.”
Forthwith then the Apostle baptized them in the Church of the Holy
Saviour, and laid for name on the son of the Count, Amile, and on the son
of the Knight, Amis; and many a knight of Rome held them at the font with
mickle joy, and raised them aloft even as God would. And the office of
Baptism done, the Apostle bade bring two hanaps of tree dight with gold
and precious stones, side and wide alike, and of like fashion, and gave
them to the bairns and said: “Take these gifts in token that I have
baptized you in the Church of the Holy Saviour.” Which gifts they took
joyfully and thanked him much, and betook them thence home in all
joyance.
To the child of Bericain did God give so great wisdom, that one might
trow that he were another Solomon; and when he was of the age of thirty
years a fever took his father, and he fell to admonishing his son in such
like words: “Fair son, well beloved, it behoveth me presently to die, and
thou shalt abide and be thine own master. Now firstly, fair son, keep
thou the commandments of God; the chivalry of Jesus Christ do thou. Keep
thou faith to thy lords, and give aid to thy fellows and friends. Defend
the widows and orphans. Uphold the poor and needy: and all days hold thy
last day in memory. Forget not the fellowship and friendship of the son
of the Count of Alverne, whereas the Apostle of Rome on one day baptized
you both, and with one gift honoured you. Ye be alike of beauty, of
fashion, and stature, and whoso should see you, would deem you to be
brethren.”
So having finished these words, and received his Saviour, he departed in
our Lord, and his son did do bury him, and did do render him his service,
even as one should do for the dead.
After the death of his father evil folk bore envy against him, and did
him many a scathe, and grieved him sorely; but he loved them all and
suffered whatsoever they did to him. What more may I tell you, save that
they cast him and his folk out of the heritage of his fathers, and chased
him forth out of his castle. So when he bethought him of the commandment
of his father, he said to them who went in his company: “The wicked have
wrongfully cast me forth out of mine heritage: yet have I good hope in
our Lord that he will help me; go we now to the Court of the Count Amile,
who was my friend and my fellow. May-happen he will make us rich with
his goods and his havings. But if it be not so, then shall we go to
Hildegard the Queen, wife of King Charles of France, who is wont to
comfort the disinherited.”
And they answered that they were ready to follow him and do his bidding.
Therewith they went their ways to the Court of the Count and found him
not there, because he was gone to Bericain to visit Amis his fellow, and
comfort him of the death of his father. And when he found him not, he
departed sore troubled, and said to himself that he would not betake him
to his own land till he had found Amis his fellow; and he sought him in
France and in Almaine, where soever he heard tell that his kindred were,
and could find no certainty of him.
Therewithal Amis together with his folk, ceased not to seek his fellow
Amile, until they came to the house of a noble man where they were
guested. Thereat they told by order all their adventure and the noble
man said to them: “Abide with me, Sir Knights, and I will give my
daughter to your lord, because of the wisdom that I have heard of him,
and I will make you all rich of gold and of silver, and of havings.”
That word pleased them, and they I held the bridal with mickle joy. But
when they had abided there for a year and a half, then said Amis to his
ten fellows “We have done amiss in that we have left seeking of Amile.”
And he left there two of his sergeants and his hanap, and went his ways
toward Paris.
Now by this time had Amile been a-seeking for Amis two years past without
ceasing. And whenas Amile drew nigh to Paris he found a pilgrim and
asked if he had seen Amis whom men had chased out of his land; and that
one said nay, he had not. But Amile did off his coat and gave it to the
pilgrim and said: “Pray thou to our Lord and his Hallows that they give
me to find Amis my fellow.”
Then he departed from the pilgrim, and went his ways to Paris, and found
no-whither Amis his fellow.
But the pilgrim went his ways forthwith, and about vespers happened on
Amis, and they greeted each the other. And Amis said to the pilgrim, had
he seen or heard tidings in any land of Amile, son of the Count of
Alverne. And the pilgrim answered him all marvelling: “Who art thou,
Knight, who thus mockest a pilgrim? Thou seemest to me that Amile who
this day asked of me if I had seen Amis his fellow. I wot not for why
thou hast changed thy garments, thy folk, thine horses, and thine arms.
Thou askest me now what thou didst ask me to-day about tierce; and thou
gavest me this coat.”
“Trouble not thine heart,” said Amis, “I am not he whom thou deemest; but
I am Amis who seeketh Amile.” And he gave him of his silver, and bade
him pray our Lord to give him to find Amile. And the pilgrim said: “Go
thy ways forthright to Paris, and I trow that thou shalt find him whom
thou seekest so sore longing.” And therewith Aims went his ways full
eagerly.
Now on the morrow Amile was already departed from Paris, and was sitting
at meat with his knights hard by the water of Seine in a flowery meadow.
And when they saw Amis coming with his fellows all armed, they rose up
and armed them, and so went forth before them; and Amis said to his
fellows: “I see French knights who come against us in arms. Now fight
hardily and defend your lives. If we may escape this peril, then shall
we go with great joy to Paris, and thereto shall we be received with high
favour at the Court of the King.”
Then were the reins let loose and the spears shaken aloft, and the swords
drawn on either side, in such wise that no semblance was there that any
should escape alive. But God the all mighty who seeth all, and who
setteth an end to the toil of the righteous, did to hold aback them of
one part and of the other when they were now hard on each other, for then
said Amis: “Who are ye knights, who have will to slay Amis the exile and
his fellows?” At that voice Amile knew Amis his fellow and said: “O thou
Amis most well beloved, rest from my travail, I am Amile, son of the
Count of Alverne, who have not ceased to seek thee for two whole years.”
And therewith they lighted down from their horses, and embraced and
kissed each other, and gave thanks to God of that they were found. And
they swore fealty and friendship and fellowship perpetual, the one to the
other, on the sword of Amile, wherein were relics. Thence went they all
together to the Court of Charles, King of France; there might men behold
them young, well attempered, wise, fair, and of like fashion and visage,
loved of all and honoured. And the King received them much joyously, and
made of Amis his treasurer, and of Amile his server.
But when they had abided thus three years, Amis said unto Amile: “Fair
sweet fellow, I desire sore to go see my wife whom I have left behind;
and I will return the soonest that I may; and do thou abide at the Court.
But keep thee well from touching the daughter of the King; and above all
things beware of Arderi the felon.” Amile answered him: “I will take
heed of thy commandment; but betake thee back hither so soon as thou
mayest.”
Thuswise departed Amis. But Amile cast his eyes upon the King’s
daughter, and knew her so soon as he might; and right soon forgat he the
commandment and the teaching of Amis his fellow. Yet is not this
adventure strange, whereas he was no holier than David, nor wiser than
Solomon.
Amidst these things Arderi the traitor, who bore him envy, came to him
and said: “Thou wottest not, fellow, thou wottest not, how Amis hath
robbed the treasure of the King, and therefore is fled away. Wherefore I
require of thee thou swear me fealty and friendship and fellowship, and I
will swear the same to thee on the holy Gospel.” And so when that was
done Amile doubted not to lay bare his secret to Arderi.
But whenas Amile was a-giving water to the King to wash his hands withal,
the false Arderi said to the King: “Take thou no water from this evil
man, sir King: for he is more worthy of death than of life, whereas he
hath taken from the Queen’s Daughter the flower of her virginity.” But
when Amile heard this, he fell adown all astonied, and might say never a
word; but the benign King lifted him up again, and said to him: “Rise up,
Amile, and have no fear, and defend thee of this blame.” So he lifted
himself up and said: “Have no will to trow, sire, in the lies of Arderi
the traitor, for I wot that thou art a rightwise judge, and that thou
turnest not from the right way, neither for love nor for hatred.
Wherefore I pray thee that thou give me frist of counsel; and that I may
purge me of this guilt before thee, and do the battle against Arderi the
traitor, and make him convict of his lies before all the Court.”
So the King gave to one and the other frist of counsel till after nones,
and that then they should come before him for to do their devoir; and
they came before the King at the term which he had given them. Arderi
brought with him the Count Herbert for his part; but Amile found none who
would be for him saving Hildegarde the Queen, who took up the cause for
him, and gat frist of counsel for Amile, on such covenant that if Amile
came not back by the term established, she should be lacking all days of
the bed of the King.
But when Amile went to seek counsel, he happened on Amis, his fellow, who
was betaking him to the King’s Court; and Amile lighted down from his
horse, and cast himself at the feet of his fellow, and said: “O thou, the
only hope of my salvation, evilly have I kept thy commandment; for I have
run into wyte of the King’s Daughter, and I have taken up battle against
the false Arderi.”
Then said Amis, sighing: “Leave we here our folk, end enter into this
wood to lay bare our secret.” And Amis fell to blaming Amile, and said:
“Change we our garments and our horses, and get thee to my house, and I
will do the battle for thee against the traitor.” And Amile answered:
“How may I go into thine house, who have no knowledge of thy wife and thy
folk, and have never seen them face to face?” But Amis said to him: “Go
in all safety, and seek wisely to know them: but take good heed that thou
touch not my wife.”
And thuswise they departed each from his fellow weeping; and Amis went
his ways to the Court of the King in the semblance of Amile, and Amile to
the house of his fellow in the semblance of Amis. But the wife of Amis,
when she saw him betake him thither, ran to embrace him, whom she deemed
was her husband, and would have kissed him. But he said: “Flee thou from
before me, for I have greater need to lament than to play; whereas, since
I departed from thee, I have suffered adversity full sore, and yet have
to suffer.”
And a night-time whenas they lay in one bed, then Amile laid his sword
betwixt the two of them, and said to the woman: “Take heed that thou
touch me in no manner wise, else diest thou straightway by this sword.”
And in likewise did he the other nights, until Amis betook him in
disguise to his house to wot if Amile kept faith with him of his wife.
Now was the term of the battle come, and the Queen abode Amile all full
of fear, for the traitor Arderi said, all openly, that the Queen should
nevermore draw nigh the bed of the King, whereas she had suffered and
consented hereto, that Amile should shame her daughter. Amidst these
words Amis entered into the Court of the King clad in the raiment of his
fellow, Amile, at the hour of midday and said to the King: “Right
debonaire and loyal judge, here am I apparelled to do the battle against
the false Arderi, in defence of me, the Queen, and her daughter of the
wyte which they lay upon us.”
And the King answered benignly and said: “Be thou nought troubled, Count,
for if thou vanquishest the battle, I will give thee to wife Belisant my
daughter.”
On the morrow’s morn, Arderi and Amis entered armed into the field in the
presence of the King and his folk. And the Queen with much company of
virgins, and widows and wedded wives, went from church to church making
prayers for the Champion of her daughter, and they gave gifts, oblations
and candles.
But Amis fell to pondering in his heart, that if he should slay Arderi,
he would be guilty of his death before God, and if he were vanquished, it
should be for a reproach to him all his days. Wherefore he spake
thuswise to Arderi: “O thou, Count, foul rede thou hast, in that thou
desirest my death so sorely, and hast foolishly cast thy life into peril
of death. If thou wouldest but take back the wyte which thou layest on
me, and leave this mortal battle, thou mayest have my friendship and my
service.”
But Arderi, as one out of his wit, answered him: “I will nought of thy
friendship nor thy service; but I shall swear the sooth as it verily is,
and I shall smite the head from off thee.”
So Arderi swore that he had shamed the King’s Daughter, and Amis swore
that he lied; and straightway they dealt together in strokes, and fought
together from the hour of tierce right on till nones. And Arderi was
vanquished, and Amis smote off his head.
The King was troubled that he had Arderi; yet was he joyous that his
daughter was purged of her guilt. And he gave to Amis his daughter, and
a great sum of gold and silver, and a city hard by the sea wherein to
dwell. And Amis received the same with great joy. Then he returned at
his speediest to his hostel wherein he had left Amile his fellow; but
whenas Amile saw him coming with much company of horse, he deemed that
Amis was vanquished, and fell to fleeing: but Amis bade him return in all
safety, for that he had vanquished Arderi, and thereby was wedded for him
to the King’s Daughter. Thence then did Amile betake him, and abode in
the aforesaid city with his wife.
But Amis abode with his wife, and he became mesel by the will of our
Lord, in such wise that he might not move from his bed; for God
chastiseth him that He loveth.
And his wife, who had to name Obias, had him in sore hate, and many a
time strove to strangle him; and when Amis found that, he called to him
two of his sergeants, Azones and Horatus by name, and said to them: “Take
me out of the hands of this evil woman, and take my hanap privily and
bear me to the Castle of Bericain.”
So when they drew nigh to the castle, folk came to meet them, and asked
of them who was the feeble sick man whom they bore; and they said it was
Amis, the master of them, who was become mesel, and prayed them that they
would do him some mercy. But nevertheless, they beat the sergeants of
Amis, and cast him down from the cart whereon they were bearing him, and
said: “Flee hence speedily if ye would not lose your lives.”
Then Amis fell a-weeping, and said: “O Thou, God debonaire and full of
pity, give me death, or give me aid from mine infirmity!” And therewith
he said to his sergeants: “Bring me to the Church of the Father of Rome,
whereas God may peradventure of His great mercy purvey for my poverty.”
When they came to Rome, Constantin the Apostle, full of pity and of
holiness, and many a knight of Rome of them who had held Amis at the
font, came to meet him, and gave him sustenance enough for him and his
sergeants.
But in the space of three years thereafter was so great famine in the
city, that the father had will to thrust the son away from his house.
Then spake Azones and Horatus to Amis, and said: “Fair sir, thou wottest
how feally we have served thee sithence the death of thy father unto this
day, and that we have never trespassed against thy commandment. But now
we may no longer abide with thee, whereas we have no will to perish of
hunger: wherefore we pray thee give us leave to escape this mortal
pestilence.”
Then Amis answered them weeping: “O ye fair sons, and not sergeants, my
only comfort, I pray you for God’s sake that ye leave me not here, but
bear me to the city of the Count Amile my fellow.”
And they who would well obey his commandments, bore him thither whereas
was Amile; and there they fell to sounding on their tartavelles before
the Court of Amile, even as mesel folk be wont to do. And when Amile
heard the sound thereof he bade a sergeant of his to bear to the sick man
of bread and of flesh, and therewithal his hanap, which was given to him
at Rome, full of good wine: and when the sergeant had done his
commandment he said to him when he came again: “By the faith which I owe
thee, sir, if I held not thine hanap in my hand, I had deemed that it was
even that which the sick man had; for one and the same be they of
greatness and of fashion.” Then said Amile: “Go speedily and lead him
hither to me.”
But when he was before his fellow he asked of him who he was, and how he
had gotten that hanap. Said he: “I am of Bericain the Castle, and the
hanap was given me by the Apostle of Rome, when he baptized me.”
And when Amile heard that, he knew that it was Amis his fellow who had
delivered him from death, and given him to wife the King’s Daughter of
France; straightway he cast himself upon him and fell to crying out
strongly, and to weeping and lamenting, and to kissing and embracing him.
And when his wife heard the same, she ran thereto all dishevelled, and
making great dole, whereas she had in memory of how he had slain Arderi.
And straightway they laid him in a very fair bed, and said to him: “Abide
with us, fair sir, until that God shall do his will of thee, for
whatsoever we have is for thee to deal with.” And he abode with them,
and his sergeants with him.
Now it befel on a night whenas Amis and Amile lay in one chamber without
other company, that God sent to Amis Raphael his angel, who said to him:
“Sleepest thou, Amis?” And he, who deemed that Amile had called to him,
answered: “I sleep not, fair sweet fellow.” Then the angel said to him:
“Thou hast answered well, whereas thou art the fellow of the citizens of
Heaven, and thou hast followed after Job, and Thoby in patience. Now I
am Raphael, an angel of our Lord, and am come to tell thee of a medicine
for thine healing, whereas He hath heard thy prayers. Thou shalt tell to
Amile thy fellow, that he slay his two children and wash thee in their
blood, and thence thou shalt get thee the healing of thy body.”
Then said Amis: “Never shall it be that my fellow be a manslayer for the
healing of me.” But the Angel said: “Yet even so it behoveth to do.”
And when he had so said, the Angel departed; and therewith Amile, as if
a-sleeping, heard those words, and awoke, and said: “What is it, fellow?
who hath spoken unto thee?” And Amis answered that none had spoken: “But
I have prayed to our Lord according to my wont.” Then Amile said: “Nay,
it is not so; some one hath spoken to thee.” Therewith he arose and went
to the door of the chamber, and found it shut, and said: “Tell me, fair
brother, who hath spoken to thee these words of the night?”
Then Amis fell a-weeping sorely, and said to him that it was Raphael the
Angel of our Lord who had said to him: “Amis, our Lord biddeth that thou
tell Amile that he slay his two children, and wash thee with the blood of
them, and that then thou wilt be whole of thy meselry.”
But Amile was sore moved with these words, and said to him: “Amis, I have
given over to thee man-servant and maid-servant and all my goods, and now
thou feignest in fraud that the Angel hath spoken to thee that I slay my
two children!” But forthwith Amis fell a-weeping, and said: “I wot that
I have spoken to thee things grievous, as one constrained, and now I pray
thee that thou cast me not out of thine house.” And Amile said that he
had promised that he would hold him till the hour of his death: “But I
conjure thee by the faith which is betwixt thee and me, and by our
fellowship, and by the baptism which we took between me and thee at Rome,
that thou tell me if it be man or Angel who hath said this to thee.”
Then Amis answered: “As true as it was an Angel who spake to me this
night, so may God deliver me from mine infirmity.”
Then Amile fell to weeping privily, and thinking in his heart: “This man
forsooth was apparelled before the King to die for me, and why should I
not slay my children for him; if he hath kept faith with me to the death,
why keep I not faith? Abraham was saved by faith, and by faith have the
hallows vanquished kingdoms; and God saith in the Gospel: ‘That which ye
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.’”
And Amile without more tarrying, went to the chamber of his wife, and
bade her go hear the service of our Lord; and the Countess gat her to the
church even as she was wont.
Then the Count took his sword, and went to the bed where lay his
children, and found them sleeping, and he threw himself upon them, and
fell to weeping bitterly and said: “Who hath heard ever of a father who
of his own will hath slain his child? Ah, alas my children! I shall be
no more your father, but your cruel murderer!” And therewith the
children awoke because of the tears which fell on them from their father;
and the children, who looked on the face of their father, fell
a-laughing. And whereas they were of the age of three years or
thereabout, their father said to them: “Your laughter shall be turned
into weeping, for now shall your innocent blood be shed.”
When he had so said he cut off their heads and then laid them out behind
the bed, and laid the heads to the bodies, and covered them over even as
they slept. And with their blood which he received, he washed his
fellow, and said: “Sire God, Jesus Christ, who commandest men to keep
faith upon the earth, and who cleansest the mesel by thy word, deign thou
to cleanse my fellow, for the love of whom I have shed the blood of my
children.”
Then was Amis cleansed of his meselry, and they gave thanks to our Lord
with great joy and said: “Blessed be God, the father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who healeth them that have hope in him.”
And Amile clad his fellow in his own right goodly raiment; and therewith
they went to the church to give thanks there, and the bells by the grace
of God rang of themselves. And when the people of the city heard that,
they ran all together toward that marvel.
Now the wife of the Count when she saw them both going together, fell to
asking which of the two was her husband and said: “I know well the
raiment of these twain, but I wot not which is Amile.”
And the Count said: “I am Amile, and this my fellow is Amis, who is
whole.” Then the Countess wondered, and said: “I see him all whole; but
much I desire to know whereby he is healed.” “Render we thanks to our
Lord,” said the Count, “nor disquiet us as to how it may be.”
Now was come the hour of tierce, and neither the father nor the mother
was yet entered in to their children; but the father sighed grievously
for the death of his babes. Then the Countess asked for her children to
make her joy, and the Count said: “Dame let be, let the children sleep!”
Therewith he entered all alone to the children to weep over them, and he
found them playing in the bed; but the scars of their wounds showed about
the necks of each of them even as a red fillet.
Then he took them in his arms, and bore them to their mother, and said
“Make great joy, dame, whereas thy sons whom I had slain by the
commandment of the Angel are alive again, and by their blood is Amis
cured and healed.”
And when the Countess heard it she said: “O thou, Count, why didst thou
not lead me with thee to receive the blood of my children, and I would
have washed therewith Amis thy fellow and my Lord?”
Then said the Count: “Dame, let be these words; and let us be at the
service of our Lord, who hath done such great wonders in our house.”
Which thing they did even unto their death and held chastity.
And they made great joy through that same city for ten days.
But on the selfsame day that Amis was made whole, the devils bore off his
wife; they brake the neck of her, and bore away her soul.
After these things Amis betook him to the Castle of Bericain and laid
siege before it; and abode there before so long, that they of the castle
rendered themselves to him. He received them benignly, and pardoned them
their evil will; and from thenceforth he dwelt with them peaceably and he
held with him the elder son of Amile, and served our Lord with all his
heart.
Thereafter Adrian, Apostle of Rome, sent word to Charles, King of France,
that he come help him against Desir, the King of the Lombards, who much
tormented the Church; and Charles was as then in the town of Theodocion.
Thither came Peter, messenger of the Apostle, who said to him that the
Apostle prayed him to come defend Holy Church. Thereupon King Charles
sent to the said Desir messengers to pray him that he give back to the
Holy Father the cities and other things which he had taken from him, and
that he would give him thereto the sum of forty thousand sols of gold in
gold and in silver. But he would give way neither for prayers nor gifts.
Thereon the good King bade come to him all manner folk, Bishops, Abbots,
Dukes, Princes, Marquises and other strong knights. And he sent to
Cluses certain of these for to guard the passage of the ways. Amongst
the which was Albins, Bishop of Angier, a man full of great holiness.
Then the King Charles together with many warriors, drew nigh to Cluses by
the Mount of Sinense, and sent Bernhart his uncle, and a many with him,
by the Mount of Jove. And the vanward said that Desir, together with all
his force, was already at Cluses, the which he had do dight with bulwarks
of iron and stone.
But whenas Charles drew nigh to Cluses, he sent his messengers to Desir,
praying him to give back to the Holy Father the cities which he had
taken; but he would nought for the prayer. Again Charles bade him that
he send three of the children of the judges of Lombardy in hostage, until
such time as he had given back the cities of the Church, and that he
would betake him to France with all his host, without battle and without
doing any scathe. But he neither for that, nor for aught else would
blench one whit.
Now when God the almighty had seen the hard heart and malice of this man;
and that the French were sore desirous to get them aback home, he set so
great fear and so great trembling in the hearts of the Lombards, that
they turned to flight all of them, although none chased them, and left
there behind them their tents and all their gear. When that saw Charles
and his host, they followed them and thrust forth into Lombardy French,
Almaines, English and all other manner of folk.
Of that host were Amis and Amile, who were the first in the court of the
King, and every way they heeded the works of our Lord, in fasting, in
praying, in alms-doing, in giving aid to widows and orphans, in often
times appeasing the wrath of the King, in suffering the evil, and
consoling the realm of the Romans.
Now whenas Charles had much folk in Lombardy, King Desir came to meet him
with his little host; for whereas Desir had a priest, Charles had a
bishop; whereas that one had a monk, the other had an abbot; where Desir
had a knight Charles had a prince; the one had a man afoot, the other a
duke or a count. What should I say, where that King had one knight,
Charles had thirty. So the two hosts fell to blows together with great
cries and banners displayed; stones and darts flying here and there, and
knights falling on every part.
And the Lombards fought so mightily for three days, that they slew of
King Charles a very great infinity. And after the third day’s wearing
Charles called to him the most mighty and the strongest of his host, and
said to them: “Either die ye in battle, or gain ye the victory.”
So the King Desir and the whole host of the Lombards together fled away
to the place hight Mortara, which in those days was called Fair-wood,
whereas thereabout was the land delectable: there they refreshed them and
took heed to their horses.
On the morrow morn King Charles and his host came thither, and found the
Lombards all armed, and there they joined battle, and a great multitude
of dead there was on one side and the other, and because of this
slaughter had the place to name Mortara.
Moreover, there died Amis and Amile, for even as God had joined them
together by good accord in their life-days, so in their death they were
not sundered. Withal many another doughty baron was slain with them.
But Desir, together with his judges, and a great multitude of the
Lombards, fled away and entered into Pavia; and King Charles followed
after them, and besieged the city on all sides. Withal he sent into
France for his wife and his children. But the holy Albins, bishop of
Angier, and many other bishops and abbots gave counsel to the King and
the Queen, that they should bury the dead and make there a church: and
the said counsel pleased much the King, and there were made two churches,
one by the commandment of Charles in honour of St. Eusebius of Verceil,
and the other by the commandment of the Queen in honour of St. Peter.
And the King did do bear thither two arks of stone, wherein were buried
Amis and Amile; and Amile was borne into the Church of St. Peter, and
Amis into the Church of St. Eusebius; and the other corpses were buried
here and there. But on the morrow’s morn the body of Amile, and his
coffin therewith, was found in the Church of St. Eusebius hard by the
coffin of Amis his fellow.
Now hear ye of this marvellous fellowship which might not be sundered by
death. This wonder wrought for them God, who had given such might to His
disciples that they had power to move mountains and shift them. But
because of this miracle the King and the Queen abode there thirty days,
and did do the service of them that were slain, and worshipped the said
churches with great gifts.
Meanwhile the host of Charles wrought for the taking of the city which
they had besieged; and our Lord tormented them that were within in such
wise that they were brought to nought by great feebleness and by
mortalities. And after ten months from the time when the city was
besieged, Charles took Desir, and all them who were with him, and laid
the city and all the realm under his subjection. And King Desir and his
wife they led into France.
But Saint Albins, who by that time had raised the dead to life, and given
light to many blind folk, ordained clerks, priests, and deacons in the
aforesaid Church of St. Eusebius, and commanded them that they should
without ceasing guard and keep the bodies of those two fellows, AMIS and
AMILE, who suffered death at the hands of Desir, King of Lombardy, on the
fourth of the ides of October.
Reigning our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth without end with
the Father and the Holy Ghost. AMEN.