Heroines of the French Epic

by Newth, Michael A. H. ;

  “Alas for you your valour! Alas for me your loss!

  For me this trouble started, for me it’s never stopped!

  For me you made the journey to Aigremore’s great rock

  And rescued me from dangers your love for me took on!

  I would have died without you – would that I could ere long,

  So that my soul forever may live with you and God!”

  A SHADY TREE was near them, beneath whose pleasant cover

  810 The tender grass was scented with country mint and rushes.

  They gently bore their lord there, disarming him for comfort,

  And once again the duchess fell sobbing on her husband.

  If you had seen her sorrow and heard the words she uttered!

  She used her ermine mantle to fan him and to sponge him.

  A sighing and a crying arose around the duchess,

  As many prayers were proffered to Mary, Maid and Mother!

  THE DUKE HAD LOST his senses, but lying there restored them,

  And suddenly he uttered: “God bless you, now and always!

  There’s something I must say to young Guischard and Alori.”

  820 They both replied: “Dear uncle, my lord, we stand before you.”

  “Unless my son reclaims them, my lands are yours!” he ordered.

  Immediately, Aye added: “I pledge alike my borders!”

  She never once regretted her promise of that morning,

  For neither son nor father forsook her cause henceforward.

  “My noble knights and barons,” Duke Garnier exhorted,

  “Convey me with all hurry to Charlemagne’s quarters.

  Before I die there’s something that he and I must talk of.”

  His entourage responded: “My lord, we’ll serve you always.”

  And made him up a litter on which they could transport him.

  830 They bore him forth to Paris, and as they reached the portals

  Of Saint-Denis a service was ending at the altar:

  The old abbot had perished, and therefore, having brought there

  A new one, Charlemagne had bidden all his courtiers

  And barons to be present and witness the instalment.

  The King himself was present, and watched as they anointed

  And blessed the future abbot to serve in his appointment.

  THE ABBOTT SANG the Mass; a hymn was underway,

  When those of Auberive brought in Duke Garnier

  And laid him on the stones beside the Cross of Faith.

  840 The mighty monarch Charles approached them straightaway:

  “What’s happened, noble lords?” he asked them, in dismay.

  Said Aumagon: “My King, I bring a sorry tale.

  Count Miles of the Ardennes and German Otto came

  To Auberive in arms before the noon of day,

  Attacking it in force and sacking it for gain.

  Duke Garnier arrived to meet them face to face,

  And in the mighty fight that followed he sustained

  A wound that very soon will take his life away.”

  On hearing Charles’s voice, Sir Garnier had strained

  850 To raise his body up, and then his voice the same:

  “My noble lord and King, you knighted me and gave

  Your niece’s hand to me and all of her domains.

  But now that God has moved to end my mortal days

  I render to your care my land and lovely Aye.”

  On hearing this, the King replied, with weeping gaze:

  “Alas that we must part, most worthy knight and brave!

  There’s no one else on earth who’ll ever take your place.”

  The Duke confessed his sins, and begging Heaven’s Grace,

  He thanked his men, his wife and Charles his lord again.

  860 His wounds had opened wide and as the blood escaped

  His spirit flew to God – Whose will must be obeyed.

  Each cleric sang a psalm to honour Garnier,

  As in a marble bier his noble corpse was laid.

  Then, as they sung a Mass, they laid him in his grave.

  King Charlemagne turned, in sadness and dismay,

  And left with Lady Aye, whose grief was unrestrained.

  BOTH AUMAGON and Sanson departed from the abbey,

  While Guischard and Alori remained behind in Paris

  To comfort Lady Aye, the widow, in her sadness.

  870 It would have served her better if she had left the palace,

  For, badly as she suffered, there loomed a greater anguish:

  Count Miles of the Ardennes, through promises so ample

  Of purest gold and silver, and noble steeds of battle,

  So softened Charles’s anger at losing such a vassal

  That Charlemagne gave him the widow’s hand in marriage!

  3. How Aye was persecuted

  AT PENTECOST it was, that festival elect.

  The Emperor had heard the vesper service read,

  And, leaving from the church to reach the hall, he held

  The hand of Aye his niece with friendly tenderness.

  880 A smile was on his face as lovingly he said:

  “My good and noble Aye, come, tell me your intent!

  There’s little to be gained in mourning more the dead.

  Re-wed a living lord, a man of great prowess.

  You’ll find none better here than Miles of the Ardennes.”

  On hearing this, his niece reared up her lovely head

  And said to him: “My lord, how could you name that wretch?

  How could I think to wed the villain you suggest?

  I’d rather be a nun and take the veil instead

  Of shaming so the man who loved me to the end!

  890 I’ll never marry Miles or any of his geste!”

  “You will,” the King replied, “if that is my intent!”

  WHEN MILES ARRIVED at court, a thousand knights escorted

  Such riches to the King, in gold and silver coinage,

  And such a wealth of steeds, as well as mules and palfreys,

  That Charles gave him in pledge his niece and all her borders.

  No serving-man or knight inside the court that morning,

  No seneschal or cook, no chamberlain or doorman,

  Escaped the villain’s thanks – each rank received its portion

  In gold, weighed by the ounce or as a bowl or bauble.

  900 Inside the court and out this bought him the assurance

  That he would have the hand and land of Aye henceforward.

  IN GOLDEN COIN and silver he brought the King so much

  It bought him the assurance from each and every one

  That he would have the hand of the duchess Aye at once.

  No chamberlain or doorman, no cook or seneschal,

  Escaped the villain’s payment – each rank received its sum

  Of gold or silver ounces, in coinage or in cups.

  The greater and the lesser, without exception, judged

  That there was no one fitter to govern Avignon.

  910 My lords, we read it often, and it’s a truth to trust:

  If any man with riches can summon will enough

  To spread his wealth around him and stint himself of none,

  He’ll find his name in credit on everybody’s tongue!

  FAIR AYE WAS WELL aware of the whispering between

  The courtiers around her, the mighty and the mean,

  And knew her uncle’s fervour was favoured by the Queen.

  Attend, and I will tell you how Aye outwitted each!

  She said to Charlemagne: “My lord, I want a year

  Of respite and reflection, or I shall not agree.

  920 In twelve months I can talk to the barons of my fief,

  And heal the wounds inside me of anger and of grief.

  Then I shall do, dear uncle, whatever’s asked of me.”

  The Queen replied: “Goo
d husband, it’s fair to grant her plea.”

  It proved a mighty folly for Miles when he agreed,

  For what he lost that morning he never would retrieve!

  My lords, I have a story I know you’ll want to hear,

  Of heathen tribes, of Ganor, and Garnier’s son Gui,

  And how they saved his mother and changed her destiny!

  THE LADY AYE departed from Saint-Denis that morning,

  930 Accompanied, on leaving, by Guischard and Alori.

  I’ll tell you now of Baudus, another Pagan warlord:

  In two and twenty countries he’d visited his augurs

  And what he’d learnt had filled him with unabashed rejoicing.

  With confidence he mustered a mass of heathen forces

  From every Pagan island as far away as Morgis,

  Who met in the Majorcas and promised to support him.

  Two other monarchs, Butor and King Bandalis, joined him

  And swore him their allegiance before Apollo’s altar

  And Jupiter’s own image, where Baudus reassured them

  940 That he would lead them somewhere to win so great a fortune

  That nobody returning would ever be a pauper!

  On masts already fastened their quickest sails were hoisted,

  Then not a month it took them, nor half a month or quarter:

  In just three day they anchored inside the port of Monbis.

  The Pagans, disembarking, invaded all before them,

  Despoiling every city, destroying every fortress

  And seizing many captives, both men and women also.

  But, worst of all, they captured both Guischard and Alori,

  Who with their hawks were hunting beside the river Torsis.

  950 WHEN EVERYWHERE was burning, the Pagans turned, contented:

  They’d looted church and chapel of every precious treasure,

  Each chasuble and chalice, each valuable and relic.

  They’d captured both Alori and Guischard, who had ventured

  With hawks along the river, oblivious of peril.

  King Margos and Delīas had bound their arms together

  With lengths of rope and ragging, then dragged them off in tethers.

  Held tightly by the heathens, how keenly they lamented:

  “Dear Lady Aye, they’ll take us away from you forever!

  Whatever need you suffer, we’ll not be there to help you!”

  960 WHEN ALL WAS OVVERRUN the Saracens sped off.

  Alori and Guischard were led away in bonds.

  Old Sanson took it hard, and so did Amaugon.

  The duchess wept so much they thought she’d never stop.

  “Alas indeed for you, unlucky two!” she sobbed:

  “Now who will lift a shield to venge my husband’s loss?”

  “My lady,” Sanson cried, with swarthy Aumagon,

  “Are we then, in your eyes, too weak to right the wrong?

  We swear that with the help of the Almighty God,

  You’ll see our sons again – their lives shall not be lost!

  970 It’s Miles who won’t survive – his haughty head shall drop!”

  “Dear God,” the duchess sighed, “whenever will the rod

  Of justice punish Miles for everything he’s done?”

  While this was being said the Saracens sped off.

  The captives Baudus took – three thousand, says the song –

  Were sent throughout his realm, to every ploughman’ plot,

  So they could work his lands, enriched by Avignon’s!

  But let us leave a while this Pagan and move on

  To King Ganor, the Moor whose heart was true and strong.

  He’d brought up little Gui, Sir Garnier’s own son,

  980 So gallantly no knight could fight with such aplomb!

  If any bard omits their portion of Aye’s song,

  Then truly you would miss the finest part thereof!

  KING GANOR WAS a man of noble birth and courage.

  All Babylon was ruled by the Emir his uncle,

  And Cordova’s emir was Ganor’s closest cousin.

  Majorca and its isles were Ganor’s own to govern,

  But Baudus had begun to rob him and to snub him –

  So Ganor, on his life, had sworn to make him suffer!

  KING GANOR ordered Baudus to serve him as he ought

  990 And render him the tribute of liegeman to his lord.

  If he refused to do so, then he could be assured

  That Ganor would attack him when thirty days had dawned,

  And he would be a dead man as soon as he was caught.

  Sir Golias and Jambus, his messengers, were called,

  With Morganz and Estōrganz, to take the summons forth.

  They didn’t dress in raiment of cloth or silk at all,

  But tunics made of deerskin with golden studs adorned.

  They rode with every hurry, and when they reached the port,

  They commandeered a vessel and helped the crewmen haul

  1000 The sailing-ropes to hasten departure from the shore.

  A day and night of sailing was followed by one more,

  And then they reached Majorca and Baudus in his court.

  The first to speak, Golias, was wise of worded thought:

  “May Mahom in his mercy, whose power governs all,

  Who makes the deaf to listen and makes the silent talk,

  Save Baudus from disaster, and Ganor too, the lord

  Who justly asks for tribute from you, his vassal sworn!

  It’s best for you to send it, or you may rest assured

  That he will come and fetch it when thirty days have dawned,

  1010 And you will be a dead man as soon as you are caught.”

  King Baudus, who was holding a wyvern in his claw,

  Was just about to throw it, when someone snatched it forth.

  “Golias,” said the rebel, “I hear you well, of course,

  But tell your haughty liege lord, until he gets the point:

  The world will be restarted, the Antichrist restored,

  Before I’ll pay him further with service or in coin!

  Should he decide to visit, my welcome will be warm!”

  Golias kept his silence, as Jambus raised his voice:

  “KING BAUDUS, by Mahomet, whoever’s set you on

  1020 This course of insurrection is not a friend you want!

  When you behold King Ganor and see his mighty throng

  Attack your wall with mallets and crack it all with rods,

  No tower built will save you, however tall or strong.

  The riches of your kingdom will be our common lot

  And all your men, the bearded and beardless, will be lost.

  Your bodies will be slaughtered, your spirits driven off

  To dwell in hell forever with the infernal gods!

  You’ll languish there in torment and anguish ever-long.”

  ON SAYING THIS, the envoys departed, far from happy,

  1030 Returning to the harbour as fast as they could manage.

  As soon as they had boarded, the vessel weighed its anchors

  And sailed away as swiftly as skill could make it travel.

  Arriving at their island, they went at once to Ganor

  To tell him how King Baudus had answered to his mandate:

  “Well, shall I have my tribute? What says my stubborn vassal?”

  “He says,” Golias answered, “that you’ll be old and haggard,

  The world will be restarted, the Devil re-established,

  Before he’ll pay you further with service or in ransom.

  He says that he awaits you, and wonders why you dally.

  1040 He said that if you visit, he’ll welcome you most gladly!

  My lord, he almost killed us and had us burnt to ashes:

  He held a sharpened wyvern within his tawny talon –

  His men alone restrained him from cas
ting it in anger.”

  “KING BAUDUS answered you with arrogance indeed

  And almost slew us both in his unbridled spleen!

  Our love for you will fade unless he’s made to yield!”

  On hearing this report, King Ganor’s anger seethed.

  He summoned forth at once his Pagan men of liege

  From every stretch of coast and island in between,

  1050 And with them, in support, his uncle the Emir.

  One hundred thousand men and more, I’d say, at least,

  Arrived at Aigremore, where Ganor welcomed each.

  THE HOST THAT Ganor summoned was something to be dreaded:

  The harbour-waves were hidden beneath so many vessels –

  On land they would have covered a mighty span of meadows!

  With such an army coming, King Baudus should have trembled:

  But when it came to hound him, it found the rebel ready:

  He only had his landsmen to stand against so many,

  Yet they were twenty thousand to match the best of any.

  1060 KING BAUDUS HAD resolved on a very cunning plan:

  He summoned back the captives he’d sent to work his lands,

  And armed them all with weapons, the finest that he had.

  Upon a Cross of Jesus he made them lay their hands

  And swear to help him only when King Ganor attacked,

  And not to fail their duty for any mortal man.

  He promised them, on his part, by all the gods he had,

  That, should he win the battle, he’d free them all in thanks

  And let them leave his service with happy heart and glad.

  Young Guischard and Alori were made to bear his flag

  1070 And lead his men to battle with Ganor’s mighty van.

  IT PLEASED THE LORD to choose a Saturday for battle:

  King Ganor sought revenge upon his rebel vassal,

  And in a field by Meurge the Pagan armies gathered,

  King Baudus leading one, the other one King Ganor.

  As soon as each was seen, they charged the other’s vanguard,

  With flashing swords in hand and golden-banded axes.

  With wyverns, and with darts, and javelins, they battered

  And shattered legs and arms through sturdy hides and strapping

  Till shoulder-high in blood the bolder men were standing,

  1080 And horses ran amok, and trampled on the vanquished.

  King Baudus put his faith in those his pledge had rallied: