Fair Aye was at her window, and leaning from its height,
1990 She saw the trio coming across a field nearby,
And thought she’d never witnessed so wild and weird a sight:
Three bald and beardless riders, with caps strapped very tight
To faces tanned like leather from weathering the tides!
But Aye’s resolve was tougher than that could turn aside,
And calling till they heard her, with ringing voice she cried:
“Ahoy there, gallant Frenchmen! I beg you, halt your stride
And speak to me a moment, for I am French alike!
What news have you to tell me of your sweet land and mine?
Is noble Charlemagne, our monarch, still alive?”
2000 At last the duke could hear her, and when he looked on high,
She recognised his features, and hers began to shine!
“How long I’ve been forgotten, my worthy lord,” she sighed,
“And how much pain I’ve suffered for love of you, sir knight,
To foreign lands abducted for foreign hands to buy!”
At this she drew the ring off he’d given her as bride,
Wherein a pair of jewels, as rich as they were bright,
Enclosed a third as gleaming, but many times as prized!
This stone had been transported from Earthly Paradise,
Where God Himself had formed it with such a force divine
2010 That it was filled with magic of unimagined price:
The maidenhead of any who wore it was denied
To any other’s taking, unless the maid complied!
Inside a golden moulding this stone was fitted tight.
She took the ring and threw it, from where she stood on high,
Towards her loving husband, who knew it in a trice,
And, knowing this, was certain that he had found his wife –
Or she had him – whichever, my lords, you think is right.
Be sure of this, however – they soon would reunite!
INSIDE MONJARDIN PASSES, a ford called Malestrange
2020 Gives crossing to a torrent that floods the mountain’s face,
And there it was the Spanish had made their army’s base.
One day the brothers mustered five thousand Turkish knaves
To mount their steeds and carry their banners on a raid.
This vicious vanguard started across the fields and made
For Aigremore directly and stopped before its gate.
The French would have their hands full before the end of day!
THE SUN WAS SHINING brightly that morning, when the force
Of noisy Turks rode up to the gates of Aigremore.
King Ganor had recovered from wounds received before
2030 And gone inside his garden that lined the city-walls
To hear the merry chorus of calling-birds abroad,
And meet again the Frenchmen, whom he had summoned forth:
“I’m sure you all are certain of what I’ve called you for:
My gallant-hearted Frenchmen, it’s time to go to war!
I’ll ride with you wherever at any time at all –
At morning or at evening, at moonlight or at dawn –
For I can wield a buckler as well as any born.
And if my own endeavours should fail to equal yours,
Then all my kingdom’s riches shall be to me as naught.
2040 As naught alike I’ll count it if I should be unhorsed,
As long as I can draw on my gleaming royal sword,
For I don’t think there’s any by whom I’ll be outfought:
In land of France last season two paladins were caught,
Who’ve taught me how to use it till I can learn no more!”
“Please introduce your teachers!” said Renier of Milan,
And so he did: his jailer was told to bring them forth,
And when they saw Sir Garin and Hernaut of Gironde,
His face aglow with laughter, they marvelled in their thoughts.
Sir Garnier approached them and said, with laughing voice:
2050 “Don’t name us to King Ganor, for God’s sake, noble lords,
For we have posed as soldiers he thinks that he has bought –
And we shall buy your freedom as soon as chance affords!”
The brothers quickly answered: “You have a bargain, lord!”
SAID GANOR: “Worthy soldiers, you know this pair it seems?”
Said Garnier: “The taller and blonder one, indeed,
For both of us were squires, together many years
In Charlemagne’s household, the King of France the sweet.
But one day I was captured when Mâcon was besieged,
And Garin here redeemed me, without a ransom-fee!
2060 I swear that if I ever could pay him back the deed,
I wouldn’t be as happy with all the gold that gleams!”
At once the king responded: “Then I shall set him free!”
And so he did, both captives, as blithely as could be!
Indeed, he gave the brothers good arms and armour each,
With free and full selection of any of his steeds.
So now our ten companions became a dozen peers
Whose like for gallant valour, from here to Nero’s Field,
Could never have been equalled, whatever paths were beat!
But now, they heard the force of the sons of King Marsile:
2070 On Ganor’s gate they battered their level-bannered spears
And shouted: “Are the menfolk too frightened to appear?”
Some fifty thousand fighters responded to their jeers
By riding forth directly, with Ganor in the lead:
Their tally was impressive, but not their sally’s zeal,
Until our doughty dozen displayed the soaring speed
And ruthlessness of falcons, attacking as they pleased.
Our hero struck the blazon upon their leader’s shield
And split apart its panel beneath the boss of green.
He tore apart the hauberk and drove his shining spear,
2080 Together with its pennon, right through him to the rear,
Then slew him on the gravel one lance’s length beneath:
“Mountjoy, for Charlemagne!” he cried across the field:
“May God above in Heaven curse any man who fears
To barter blows aplenty for lovely Aye’s release!”
THEY TURNED the Turkish vanguard: defence became attack!
For seven leagues you couldn’t have travelled any track
And even found a glove-full of bloodless, empty land
Without a Turkish body on gravel, grass or sand!
If any reached their campsite, it didn’t make them glad
2090 To think that of the thousands, the pride of all they had,
There scarcely were a hundred in all who made it back.
Their army blew its trumpets in force across the ranks.
So many horns resounded you’d think the earth would crack.
Our hero hailed his comrades: “No further, gallant band!
Turn back – as if escaping their countering attack!
If we pretend to flee them and turn our horses back,
Their boldest will pursue us, and they can be entrapped!”
Said Garin of Ansyon: “I like the sound of that!
If we’re to beat these forces with what this city has,
2100 We’ll have to use what wisdom and trickery we can!”
AT MALESTRANGE’S crossing, a ford called Monstardon
Gave shelter to the sons of the Moor Marsilion,
And ever
y man they’d summoned from Spanish court or cot.
Soon one of them came running, Teebo of Montcenon:
From front to rear his buckler displayed a gonfalon
And half a spear, embedded where half had broken off.
“Arm straightaway, companions!” the Pagan cried aloft,
“For I’ve some news to tell you: King Ganor, in his wrath,
Has got himself some fighters from Charles’s realm, so strong
2110 That they took on our vanguard and put to flight the lot!
For every thirty living a thousand have been lost!”
Then Bérenger and Sanson, Béraut and Aumagon,
The cause of all this fighting for Aye of Avignon,
Companions-in-evil, came adding to the shock:
They cried, with ringing voices: “The soldiers Ganor’s got
Are not from France’s kingdom, wherever they are from,
Nor men of Charlemagne’s, for we four know them not!”
Our hero, in the meantime, had spurred his comrades on:
Girart was there, his nephew, the son of Duke Othon,
2120 Renier, and Fulk, together with Garin of Mâcon,
And Gautier and Guimer and Fulk of Avalon,
And Achart of Messina, Tiebaix of Aspremont –
Supported now by Garin and Hernaut of Gironde
And Ganor’s hand, that hoisted a snowy gonfalon.
Towards them, like a falcon, Count Bérenger took off,
Around his neck a buckler with lions painted on,
And in his hand, held level, a lance green-gonfaloned.
When Garnier beheld him, and knew just who he was,
It pleased him more than gaining the wealth of Aragon!
2130 He spurred his horse, that speeded like fury in response.
It sported, like a warning, a bright-red saddle-cloth!
Our hero struck his rival upon his buckler’s gloss
And split the boards to pieces above the golden boss.
He slit the coat beneath it and, driving on, he lodged
The lance-head deep inside him, with all the gonfalon.
He thrust it through his liver, his heart and lungs, the lot,
Then split in half his backbone and levered him to drop
One lance’s length before him and die upon the rocks:
His spurs flew off and landed upon the sand beyond.
2140 Sir Garnier despatched him with this departing shot:
“It serves you right for hurting fair Aye of Avignon:
You’ve paid for it by dying a world away from God!”
WHEN SANSON LOOKED around and saw his brother dead,
His golden spurs upturned to Heaven overhead,
His shining Eastern helm embedded where he fell,
His war-horse speeding forth, its swinging saddle cleft,
He cried aloud and sighed in sorrow and regret:
“My joy in life is slain to see you lain in death!
No more shall I delight in anything again!”
2150 He gripped his spear and braced his buckler on his breast,
But couldn’t reach his foe across the heavy press.
If you had seen the blows he struck in his attempt,
You would have been amazed, I’m certain, nonetheless!
He turned his horse to strike at Renier instead:
He flattened him so well along his horse’s neck,
He would have had him caught, or finished him himself,
When Fulk and Gautier rode up to save their friend.
And, what is more, they caught old Sanson there and sent
Him, under heavy guard, to Ganor’s palace cells.
2160 COUNT BERENGER was slain and Sanson taken captive.
Béraut and Aumagon spurred hotly into action,
The one to joust Hernaut, the other one Sir Garin.
All four of them were flung one lance’s length from saddle,
And, with their cutting swords, were locked in mortal battle
When Fulk and Gautier rushed up to their companions,
Defending them from death, and seizing their attackers.
They too, went, under guard, to cells inside the palace!
Sir Fulk and Gautier had well repaid King Ganor
When Hernaut of Gironde and Garnier the gallant
2170 Returned towards the fight and swelled its mighty clamour!
Our hero struck the shield of shining blue that straddled
King Brunamor’s old neck, the brother of Blancandrin.
Beneath its golden boss he cleft its central panel
And ripped the coat beneath, of triple-mail, to tatters.
He drove his burnished spear from ribcage through to backbone
And flung him down to die upon the open paddock.
And Hernaut of Gironde struck Alexi, a pasha
Who held the land Kirmahn, King David’s ancient allod.
And Garin of Ansayn struck hoary Amoravid.
2180 Our French brigade indeed displayed such skilful passion,
I wish you could have seen the smiting and the smashing
Of weaponry on shields and helmets of enamel!
The daylight saw it all, in sunshine bright and happy,
As Pagans by the score were overrun and vanquished,
And Ganor saw it too, amazed at what had happened.
He swore upon Mahom he’d never seen such vassals,
And praised the native land that harvested such valour!
THE PAGAN BEST were beaten, the rest were full of fear.
Duke Garnier, impatient, rode through them till he reached
2190 Their leaders and gave challenge to arrogant Aiglee,
The eldest son of many Marsilion had reared,
The ruler of Toledo, Almeria and Puie.
Our hero struck him fiercely – he feared him not the least –
And pierced so very sweetly his shield and coat beneath
That down he fell and perished without the slightest peep!
King Margoros, who saw it, found naught about it sweet:
“Fine brother,” he lamented, “your murderer has steeped
The whole of Spain more deeply in never-ending grief!”
THE BATTLE FINISHED quickly when Aiglee met his death:
2200 The Spaniards stopped fighting and turned around and fled.
Our gallant Frenchmen chased them with all of Ganor’s men,
And ran them to the harbour at sword and lance’s edge.
They sacked their boats for booty, and found themselves such wealth
The poorest man among them would lack for nothing hence.
For Spain the Spanish headed, for Aigremore the rest,
And Aye was filled with gladness to hear of their success.
She prayed aloud: “True Father, reveal to me, I beg,
If I shall ever leave here with Garnier – and when!”
ONE SUNNY DAY thereafter, at light of dawn, behold
2210 King Ganor striding swiftly inside his hall of stone,
Whose columns so were studded with gleaming stars of gold
And brightly polished jewels and lighter gems aglow
That nothing more was needed to light it from below.
The time had come to lavish rewards on those he chose.
AND SO IT WAS that day that our twelve heroes entered.
Duke Garnier, the brave and courtly, first addressed him:
“We seek your leave, my lord, for it is time we left you!”
“Not yet a while, my friends!” the king replied directly,
“For on our isle the king, by custom and convention,
2220 Must make, once i
n his life, a pilgrimage to Mecca.
Now I have never gone, and every day regretted
My own delay – but now, I am resolved and ready!
As I shall also take my best knights to attend me,
I need you here to keep my island-home defended
Till I reclaim my rights and honour my intention
To wed the Lady Aye for whom we drew our weapons.
I’ll pay you with such wealth that you’ll be rich forever,
And willing to return another time to help me.”
“Your plan is good, my lord,” the French replied together.
2230 And so it was the king embarked upon a vessel
With sixty-three or more of his most gallant henchmen,
To visit the Emir of all the Eastern Empire –
His land left in the hands of our most gallant Frenchmen!
Ere ever he returned he’d recognise his error!
SO GANOR TOOK a vessel to make his trip thereon
To Mecca, where he wanted the blessing of Mahom.
He landed at the harbour of Alexandria
And went at once to honour the great Emir thereof –
His land left in the hands of Sir Garnier the strong!
2240 Ere ever he returned there he’d recognise his wrong!
It happened on the feast-day of valiant St John,
That Pagans give more honour than we in France allot.
Since Aye had been imprisoned three years had come and gone.
The Frenchmen came at nightfall to her benighted spot,
And when she saw her husband, she said with sigh and sob:
“What troubles I have caused you, fine scion of Doon!
May God, if He so pleases, reward you well anon!”
She pressed his lips with kisses – indeed she wouldn’t stop!
“Enough of this!” said Gautier, the lord of Avalon.
2250 “The night is short of season, and we must do a lot!
If we are seen by any, then all escape is lost!”
Sir Garnier did nobly by Ganor, says the song,
In this much: there was treasure a-plenty to be robbed
From Aufalerne the tower, but he took not a jot
Of wealth in any measure, save Aye of Avignon,
And three of her attendants, to be baptised for God.
Then Gautier did something, with Hernaut of Gironde,
Whose like was never witnessed for daring and aplomb:
Heroines of the French Epic Page 27
