“My lord,” she said, “I follow the logic of your mind,
But I am not that Bertha; that truly I deny.”
THE RUSE OF HER response filled Bertha with disquiet –
But Simon’s sudden news was like a bolt of lightning.
2510 “Dear Jesus, help me now to keep the vow of silence
I made in Mansel wood, when I was close to dying.”
She prayed this to herself, before she said to Simon:
“If I were Pepin’s queen, I would be mad to hide it!
If only that were true – dear God, I’d be delighted!
Who wouldn’t love to live in leisurely refinement
Instead of in a wood? What folly you would find it
If I were really Queen and wanted to deny it!
What wisdom would there be in hiding from my title?
How foolish I would be to spurn it or belie it!”
2520 The maiden was so strong and straight in her denial
That Simon and his wife accepted it entirely.
AGAIN WE’LL TURN from Bertha, so fair of face and form,
And noble-hearted Simon and good Constanzia
His wife, whose grace and favour may God above reward!
The maiden spoke so strongly of this and that and more
That her denial pleased them and satisfied their thoughts.
I’ll tell again of Morant and those with whom he’d sought
For any trace of Bertha at all around Le Mans.
They’d searched across the region and questioned all they saw,
2530 But hadn’t found a button or learnt a thing at all.
Eventually returning to Paris and the court,
They found the Monarch waiting, his noble heart forlorn.
On seeing them, King Pepin urged Morant to come forth.
He readily approached him, but, shedding tears galore,
He stammered: “By St Amant, I swear to you, my lord,
We’ve looked for Lady Bertha with all of our resource!
Around the Mansel forest no man of mother born
Ignored our purpose thither or was by us ignored:
No peasant at his labour, no knight upon his horse,
2540 No churl or charcoal-burner, no shepherd on the moors
Or in the wooded valleys with creatures in his ward,
No churchman in his chapel, no traveller abroad.
But all of which we’re certain is what we knew before!”
King Pepin sighed in anguish, on hearing this report,
And Morant and his comrades turned sadly from the hall.
WHEN PEPIN plainly heard that naught had been reported
Concerning Bertha’s fate, his noble face had fallen.
Morant was so ashamed that, under Tybert’s orders,
He’d left in Mansel wood the Lady Bertha Broad-Foot,
2550 That he and both his friends sought holy penance for it
By going on Crusade across the ocean waters.
Of those unhappy three the only one henceforward
To come back home to France alive and well was Morant:
The others perished there, of that I can assure you –
May God, Who made the world, receive their bodies’ forfeit!
Soon after this, the King prepared his men and horses
To journey through Anjou to Angers and its fortress,
Which he had seen but once, a wealth of years beforehand.
And it was there and then – or so the geste records it –
2560 That Naimon first appeared in France’s gallant story:
A youth of noble blood, in search of knighthood’s glory,
He came to court with twelve companions from boyhood.
Before the King he knelt, and, as he did, so also
Did all the rest, to praise and greet him as they ought to.
Duke Naimon raised his voice, as captain of their chorus:
“Fine monarch, we are here to serve you with our sword-blades!
From Germany we’ve come, beyond the Frankish border.
My father is the duke of all its southern portion,
And he has sent us here in search of knighthood’s glory!
2570 Before he’d let us go, he made us all assure him
We’d only come to you, whose chivalry he lauded.
Fine monarch, make us knights, this season, I exhort you,
And each of us will strive to do you honour always.”
On hearing Naimon speak, the Monarch praised him warmly
And willingly agreed to keep them there as courtiers,
And then, at Pentecost, to raise them in the hall of
The city of Le Mans to knighthood’s honoured order.
At this they all were thrilled and bowed again towards him.
Duke Naimon never left the royal house henceforward.
2580 He proved himself so well in Pepin’s eyes that shortly
He made him Peer of France, where everyone adored him.
To Charlemagne henceforth his wisdom never faltered.
At Pentecost therefore, King Pepin rode his warhorse
Directly to Le Mans to do as he had sworn to:
He knighted Naimon first, then each of his supporters,
And then a hundred more of Germany’s most stalwart.
AT PENTECOST Duke Naimon – to end what I began –
Was knighted by King Pepin with many of his land.
How loyal was Duke Naimon! What bravery he had!
2590 How many Moors henceforward were slaughtered by his hand,
And thousands more outfought by the wisdom of his plans!
King Pepin gave him honour, then pleasure after that
By setting up a quintain amid a meadow grand:
Duke Naimon, and the others, took lances up and rammed
The target-shield with gusto in lusty, loud attacks!
Beneath a shady pine-tree the King sat on a mat,
Surrounded by his cronies, the closest friends he had:
“My lord, by good St Rémi,” they asked him as they sat,
“Why do you not remarry? We grieve to see you sad.”
2600 He answered them directly: “My lords, please understand:
I loved and cherished greatly the first wife that I had,
But God gave us no children – He willed it so, alas!
And so I wed a second, whose fate was twice as bad:
I’d hardly looked at Bertha when treachery most rank
Destroyed our joy forever; I’ll nevermore be glad,
Nor ever wed another, I guarantee you that.
Please mention it no further, for here’s another fact:
When I remember Bertha, my sorrow drives me mad!
Yet God is our Good Shepherd, and we are all His lambs:
2410 If it achieves His purpose to set me on this track,
I’ll follow where He leads me with gratitude and thanks.”
On hearing Pepin’s answer, so noble and so frank,
His friends thought they’d offended their monarch and they shrank
From questioning him further about his royal plans.
With supper fast approaching, their party headed back
Without delay, and settled once more inside Le Mans,
Where Pepin stayed till Wednesday, to rest and to relax.
When Thursday came, his party rode out to hunt for stag,
And stumbled on a large one that someone’s arrow tagged.
2620 On seeing it, King Pepin regained his old élan,
And charging forth to bag it, his hunting horse outran
Each man within the party and greyhound in the pack.
&n
bsp; KING PEPIN STOOD alone; beneath the ancient shadows
Of Mansel wood he rode, bereft of friend or vassal –
Where we shall leave him too, a little while, to languish,
While we return to Bertha where, bless her, she has tarried
A decade in the home of Simon and Constanzia,
As loved by them as both the daughters of their marriage,
With whom she’s lived and worked as teacher and companion.
2630 Now, close to Simon’s house, beside a field, there happened
To be an ancient church, a low and little chapel
That hermits long ago had laboured to establish,
Then placed within the hands and land-rights of an abbey.
Four bowshots and a half it stood from Simon’s cabin,
Who used it when he went to Mass with all his clansmen.
Inside it now, indeed, knelt Bertha, who had vanished
From all the rest to hide behind its little chantry.
She prayed to Heaven’s Queen, and Him Who bore the Passion,
That Flor and Blancheflor, her parents, might be happy,
2640 And, not forgetting him the King whom she had married,
That Pepin might be saved from misery and malice:
For she had heard the news of the undying sadness
That Pepin felt for her, and how the folk in Paris
And everywhere in France lamented what had happened.
While she was doing this, the others in the family
Had left the little church and, noting Bertha’s absence,
Had thought she’d gone ahead, when actually she hadn’t!
So there she was alone – alone, but not abandoned,
Thank God, as even now came trouble to entrap her!
2650 INSIDE THE TINY chapel fair Bertha lingered still,
But when she rose and noticed no other soul within,
She held her book of hours and psalter firmly gripped,
And, bowing to the altar, left hurriedly forthwith.
But now behold King Pepin, whose haste was just as swift:
He chased about the forest; he sought those men of his,
But saw instead the maiden – and hailed her as he did!
When Bertha saw him coming, she froze, in terror’s grip.
He greeted her, however, with courtesy most fit,
And she returned the greeting as graciously to him.
2660 “You have no need to fear me,” said Pepin, with a grin,
“For I am in the party of noble France’s King!
I’ve lost my way, however and soon I’ll lose my wits!
Do you know if some household around here could assist
My search? And, if you do so, please show me where it is.”
“My lord,” responded Bertha, “most willingly I will.
Just here is where the Warden called gallant Simon, lives,
A man who’ll show you better than any can, I think.”
“My lovely one,” said Pepin, “much thanks indeed for this.”
When Pepin saw her visage, the blush and flush of it
2670 In lovely youth – a blossom of red and white and pink –
His heart was filled with longing to touch it with a kiss!
Dismounting from his hunter, with one swing of his hips,
The King again addressed her with gallant-worded lips.
The maiden answered calmly, for nothing seemed amiss,
Responding very simply to Pepin’s clever quips,
When suddenly he grasped her and held her in his fists.
Her body filled with anguish, unable to resist,
And she implored his mercy, and that of Heaven’s King.
THE DAY WAS FINE and clear, not wet at all or windy.
2680 In Mansel wood the King had found a rose so pretty
In all its youthful bloom, so perfectly exquisite
His fingers couldn’t wait to fondle it and pick it:
Fair Bertha was the rose; King Pepin’s were the fingers!
He cried: “Return with me to France’s noble kingdom:
It holds no precious gem within its royal limits
That I’d not gladly buy to satisfy your wishes!
I’ll find for you as well you a lovely house to live in,
And nobody on earth shall ever harm you in it!”
Fair Bertha didn’t prize these promises a thimble,
2690 And blamed herself with sighs for such a want of wisdom
She’d shown to be alone and make herself a victim.
King Pepin saw at once the depth of her affliction.
IN DEEP AFFLICTION, truly, the lovely maid was sunk:
“Release me,” she implored him, “for sake of God above:
You have delayed my duty, good noble, long enough –
For soon my uncle Simon must journey to Le Mans
With food for royal Pepin and those with whom he’s come –
And I must make a meal for my uncle ere he does.”
“I’d like to know,” cried Pepin, “my lonely, lovely one,
2700 What sort of man allows you to roam the woodland thus?”
“The fault was mine, no other’s,” the maiden sighed at once:
“I came to Mass this morning, the same as everyone,
Including uncle Simon, whose praises I have sung –
We worship in that chapel you see in front of us.
I went behind its chantry alone, beknown to none,
Where I was left, forgotten, when Holy Mass was done.”
When Pepin heard her speaking with such a gentle tongue
And face so bright it mirrored the shining of the sun –
So clear it was and lovely, so radiant its blush –
2710 His bosom burned with longing and leapt aflame with lust.
She looked just like the servant who’d so deceived his trust –
Indeed he’d seen no other who looked like her so much –
Except this one was fairer than ever that one was!
At this point Pepin’s patience was broken in a flood
Of ardour that demanded surrender to its rush:
“My lovely one,” he urged her, “by good St Omer’s blood,
Will you not let me love you? I swear, I’ll give you such
A mass of wealth you couldn’t have dreamt of such a sum!
To lovely France I’ll take you, where you will be beloved,
2720 For I am loved by Pepin as if we two were one!
Without a lie, I’m Pepin’s most trusted officer,
And rich enough to give you a world of wealth and love!
So think no more about it – for I have thought enough:
Whatever it may cost me, I’ll satisfy my blood!”
At this, a sigh of sorrow from Bertha’s heart was wrung,
And from her lovely eyelids the tears began to run:
She saw no means of fleeing, and knew she must succumb
To him, unless she told him the truth of who she was.
“My lord,” she said, “I warn you, as now I know I must.
2730 In Jesu’s name, our Saviour, Who let Himself be hung
Upon the Cross at Easter to save each one of us,
Release the wife of Pepin from your unlawful touch!
I am indeed the daughter of Flor and Blancheflor,
The king and queen whose honour is known to God above!”
On hearing this, the visage of Pepin quickly flushed.
He couldn’t speak for rapture; he stood completely stunned.
FAIR BERTHA SAID: “My lord! In God’s name and His Mother’s,
Abandon your desire or stubborn pl
an to plunder
My maidenhood, a good that cannot be recovered.
2740 My father is King Flor, let no one doubt or wonder.
Queen Blancheflor the Fair of Hungary’s my mother,
In whom all virtue’s seen, for she is mean in nothing,
But kind and debonair and fair of mind and loving.
My sister rules in Saxe; I also have a brother
Who’s Poland’s duke and lord of Grodno port in Russia.
And I am queen of France – for Pepin is my husband!
So, in the name of God, the King of every country,
Do nothing to me now whereby my name would suffer:
I swear I’d rather die than live with honour sullied.”
2750 ON HEARING BERTHA tell him, most truthfully, that she
Was Queen of France, he listened, with great delight indeed,
But with a heart that pounded in great anxiety.
He said: “If you are truly the one you claim to be,
Then I would never harm you, for all the gold that gleams!”
On hearing this, Queen Bertha gave thanks to him in speech,
And to our Lord in silence, for such a great release,
Then turned to Simon’s dwelling her lovely face and feet.
Upon the way, King Pepin was very keen to hear
The details of her story – but much she kept concealed,
2760 Determined just to tell him enough that would relieve
The danger of his presence and meet her present need.
She made a pledge in silence, most solemn and sincere,
That she would never wander alone again indeed.
She talked away to Pepin, however, till they reached
The gallant Simon’s dwelling, his cabin by the trees.
Constanzia and Simon were waiting as they neared
The doorway, where their daughters were hovering in tears
At Bertha’s lengthy absence, for whom their love was deep.
Indeed, they would have sought her, and were about to leave,
2770 When, seeing one who brought her, they halted in relief.
As Bertha came up closer they saw her face of fear
And realised that something had made her much aggrieved.
My lords, you can imagine the worried look of each!
King Pepin, whose demeanour was courteous and sweet,
Hailed Simon and Constanzia, and then fair Eglantine
And Isabelle the sisters, and everyone could see
Heroines of the French Epic Page 57
