On hearing this, the duchess tore all her hair awry:
“Alas I ever bore you, my lovely Gui!” she cried.
THE TOWNSFOLK, when they heard, came running up and heaved
Their strength against the doors until they burst them free
And saw inside the house that all were fast asleep!
250 They sounded the alarm, then chased along the streets.
Upon the way they met that worker from the fields,
Who came where Aye was sat beneath a cypress-tree.
“My lady,” said the man, “abandon idle grief,
For happiness in life’s a fickle friend indeed!
Among the pilgrim band last night there was a Peer
Who gave to me this gold, but made me first agree
To use its royal worth upon our church’s needs,
And bring to you this news of him and little Gui:
‘King Ganor has your son aboard his ship at sea!’”
260 The duchess tore her hair and couldn’t halt her tears:
“How treacherous you are, wild heathendom, indeed!
What honest folk on earth are safe from your deceit?”
Upon her steps she wept: she couldn’t help but weep,
As Ganor took her child across the heaving sea.
The captain and his crew used every brewing breeze
To speed their monarch home, where he was met with cheers.
He tended Gui with care, and with the passing years
The youngster grew in strength and handsomeness of mien.
King Ganor schooled him well in Pagan ways and means,
270 And taught him to play chess and draughts with expertise,
Then how to read the stars and courses that they keep.
He made him seneschal, above his other Peers,
And wouldn’t eat a thing unless the youth was near.
And when the moment came to give him steel and steed
He knighted him as fair and finely as could be.
My lords, it proved a boon that little Gui was seized:
If what they say is true, it saved his life indeed.
Whoever hears in full the tale of Aye will see
How present woe may hide a happiness to be.
280 So listen well, my friends, to what my song reveals,
For you can learn a lot from what it has to teach –
And hear of mighty fights, invasions and the siege
Of castles that were cast to ground by evil greed:
Of Auboin I’ll sing, and Alerant, who schemed
With Miles of the Ardennes and Othon to defeat
Sir Garnier in war, by Charlemagne’s leave!
My song of Aye begins – so hear the best from me:
No minstrel hence, I think, will ever sing its peer!
2. How Aye was widowed
ONE EASTERTIME it was, when winter snows have thawed,
290 When woodlands bloom anew and meadows blossom forth,
And birds begin to sing and make a merry noise,
Like ‘kee, o-kee, o-kee’, the nightingale’s sweet call;
When anxious maidens sigh, for lovers far forlorn,
While wedded wives delight the menfolk they adore.
In Saint-Denis itself King Charles was holding court,
Without Duke Garnier, whose two brothers-in-law,
Sanson and Aumagon, with the agreed support
Of Miles and Auboin, their cousins, and the lord
Otto, their German kin, had poisoned Charles’s thoughts
300 Against the duke, and brought such blandishments galore
That Charles began to spurn the lord he’d loved before.
WHEN CHARLES had finished eating, the cloths were cleared away.
The hall began to empty, the bedrooms filled apace.
The plotters seized the moment to stir their pot again!
Counts Aumagon and Sanson were first with their complaint:
“Fine King, we ask for justice against Duke Garnier,
Who with his weapon slaughtered my brother Bérenger.
He wed us to his sisters, but that was just a way
Of robbing us of half of Nanteuil and its estates.
310 He’s strengthened his defences, without your ‘yea’ or nay’,
And bodyguards protect him throughout the night and day.
We’ve offered him no challenge, not wanting to engage
In action that would vex you or flex your fearsome rage.”
Aside the pair continued: “By Rome’s most blessed saint,
We swear that when we do so, we’ll dash out all his brains!”
“You’ll what, you race of devils?” said Charles, who’d heard the knaves:
“Without his son, you justly may claim his whole domain.”
Said Aumagon the swarthy: “To me it’s all the same,
For I don’t care a penny for him or any claim!”
320 “MY LORD,” said Alerant, the ruler of Traysene,
“I urge you to recall when Nanteuil was besieged
By you, who sent Doon, defeated, into Pouille.
How, even when he died and lay beneath our feet,
The rebel left behind three sons to vent his spleen!
Queen Blancheflor your wife raised lovingly all three,
But you held Garnier in singular esteem,
Delighting in his growth and knighting him with glee.
You gave him land – without the counsel of your Peers –
That should have been Antoine’s, who rightly felt aggrieved:
330 With fifteen thousand men he’d served you well for years,
When Garnier had brought but four or five indeed.
His castle of Nanteuil lies next to your demesne
And right upon the spot where three more kingdoms meet:
Lorraine, the rest of France and all of Germany.
He’s reinforced his town without your royal leave,
Though every wall before seemed tall enough to me!
The man who owns Nanteuil will not be stopped with ease.
Indeed he likes to boast that if he were besieged,
He would defeat your son, Prince Louis, in two weeks!”
340 SAID MILES of the Ardennes, beside his German kinsman
Count Otto: “Truly, Sire, it’s neither fair nor fitting
That all of us should lose so one may be the winner!
I urge you to recall when you besieged the city:
Its Pagan walls you left un-cleft were well sufficient,
But still he’s built some more, without the least permission:
Its tower now is huge and white as snow in winter.
Upon one side Argonne encloses his position,
Where venison abounds, provisioning his kitchens.
The Meuse, the other side, is an abundant river.
350 He’s often said in boast four sieges couldn’t shift him!
My lord, if we were sure of our and your position,
Within a month we’d clip the wings of his ambition!
Your Majesty, accept, as proof that we are willing,
A gift of Eastern silk, with gold and shining silver
So heavy in its load four sumpters couldn’t lift it!”
The Emperor replied: “I’m not against your wishes,
But I must make a trip beyond Marsois to visit
Brabant and put an end to Walter Aval’s mischief!
When I return, my friends, make sure your work is finished.”
360 And thus it was that wealth, the lure of land and riches,
Would end a good man’s life and hand his wife to villains!
NOW GUISCHARD AND Alori were Garnier’s two nephews –
The sons of those two sisters whom Garnier had wedded
To Aumagon and Sanson when Aye before was rescued –
And both were at the court of the King of France together.
When both of them were told of their fathe
rs’ ill intention
To turn against their uncle and plunder his possessions,
It pricked their honest conscience, it spurred their gallant tempers
And drove them both to challenge the royal son of Pépin.
370 Said Alori, the younger: “True Emperor, attend us!
Sir Garnier’s your vassal – his loyalty well-tested.
You even praised his offer to strengthen his defences!
The city was his allod, but he agreed to rent it
From you in loyal service you seem to be rejecting!
God damn him for a gudgeon, if he remains your tenant!”
The Emperor smiled wryly when Alori had ended.
“What’s this,” he grinned, “Alori? Did I hear you correctly?
You’re willing too that Heaven should watch your uncle perish!”
The youth at once retorted: “So help me God, no, never!”
380 At this the nephews bristled and asked to leave his presence.
Both Guishard and Alori left Saint-Denis’ assembly:
For love of their good uncle they left Charles altogether.
The saying’s true: ‘A nephew out-vies a son for vengeance.’
AS AUMAGON AND Sanson rode homeward in a hurry
To summon forth an army and stir up further trouble,
So Guischard and Alori sped off to find their uncle
And tell him all they knew of the plot they had uncovered:
How much he stood to suffer and lose unless he mustered
Whatever help he could do, in friends or any others,
390 To fight a mortal battle – for that was what was coming!
THE MAN WHO WROTE this story knew everything that happened:
Our duke was in his city with Aye his fair companion
And masons by the thousand at work upon the scaffolds,
Who made the town resound to the pounding of their hammers.
A lot of knights and soldiers were lodged inside its barracks.
The duchess had refurbished St Simon’s church and chapel,
To which, in high procession, a hundred monks had gathered.
Upon the steps outside it three hundred knights were standing,
Attired in silken breeches, in silk and cotton jackets,
400 And tunics trimmed with ermine and marten-collared mantles.
They watched the entertainment of bear- and lion-handlers,
And minstrels telling stories or singing songs of valour.
Young Guischard and Alori dismounted at the palace.
Fair Aye moved up to welcome Guischard, the son of Sanson,
And Garnier did likewise for Alori the gallant.
Embracing them, they asked them if something were the matter:
“There is indeed,” they answered, “A matter of great sadness:
Sir Miles of the Ardennes and Dijon’s Baron Alex,
With Count Otto the German, are planning to attack you!
410 But, what is worse, our fathers, both Aumagon and Sanson,
Have sided with these villains, to our abiding anger!
Before the King they promised to slay you in his absence!
May God above condemn us, and then forever damn us
If we don’t turn this evil right back upon its planners!”
“DEAR GOD,” EXCLAIMED the duke, “how could my lord consent,
For any lure of wealth, to leave me to my death?
I’d hoped to hunt my woods and fish my riverbeds,
But now, alas, it seems that I must fight again!
The duchess spoke her mind, on hearing his distress:
420 “My lord, you have, yourself, a wondrous sum of wealth,
Acquired from Aufalerne, the tower in Ganor’s realm.
So summon mercenaries, and show the King your strength!
I’ll give them so much gold and silver none will rest
Till every foe of ours is vanquished, live or dead!”
THE MIGHTY FEAST was ready; the tablecloths were laid,
And all had called for water to wash before they ate:
But soon they’d have more trouble than pleasure on their plates!
A noise arose around them of shouting at the gates,
As Auboin and Alex and fearless Milon came.
430 The diners ran for weapons, as the alarm was raised,
But someone in the tower, who’d watched them all the way,
Said: “Barons, hold your horses! There’s many more than they!
I’ve seen them all advancing; they’re passing Malavale,
Beside the woods and ruins of our old abbey’s nave.
Prepare to make a stand in the valleys of Moraive,
With bowmen in three places, or four, where they can aim
Their bolts at our attackers when battle is engaged.”
Duke Garnier demanded his armour straightaway.
He donned a heavy byrnie of strong and sturdy make
440 And laced an Eastern helmet of green about his face:
Upon the helmet’s nasal a precious jewel blazed.
He girt a sword about him, old ‘Beardless’ Buevon’s blade,
And raised a shield depicting that wonder of our faith,
The raising, by our Saviour, of Lazarus the saint.
He draped its strap of samite about his collared nape,
Then gripped his lance of ash-wood, whose tip was razor -straight.
Along the palace courtyard they brought his destrier,
Which, fully armed, he mounted without a moment’s waste,
And headed for the gateway to lead the coming fray.
450 The duchess left her chamber; towards the hall of state
She hastened, where she started, most fervently, to pray:
“Lord God, our Heavenly Father, by Whom all things were made:
Who fashioned Eve and Adam and all that Earth contains:
Who took on flesh in Mary to manifest Your grace,
As witnessed by the Magi, for whom Your love was great –
They brought You gifts of honour that You did not disdain,
And when they journeyed homeward You kept their party safe
From Pontius Pilate’s soldiers and Herod’s royal rage –
Dear Lord, Who was baptised in the river Jordan’s wave:
460 For two and thirty summers You taught the Christian Faith,
And when the Jews had caught You, showed naught again but grace:
You let Yourself be taken, then crucified and laid
Beneath the earth You gave us; but then You rose again
To free with love Your people whom evil had enchained
In cells of hell constructed by centuries of hate.
By saying ‘Peace be with you’, You healed the world of pain.
As I believe most truly You did all this, I pray
That You will save the husband You gave to me at Aix
From weapon’s wood or iron, from capture or the grave,
470 Or any foe’s unhorsing from any blows he takes.”
BEFORE THE GATE, dismounted, Sanson and Aumagon
Stood waiting, with four thousand in hauberks sleek and strong.
Duke Garnier attacked them – he chose the thickest spot–
With strength that was rewarded by that of mighty God:
No knight he felled was able to rise or battle on:
He rounded up a hundred and had them hurried off
To Belin, his chief jailer, who found them all a lodge!
SIR MILES of the Ardennes, with bearded old Sir Milon,
Dismounted at the gate and waited with equipment
480 To batter any bulwarks and shatter any timbers.
Duke Garnier attacked them with all his gallant spirit,
Together with a thousand and more who sallied with him.
No knight he felled was able to rise or to continue:
He rounded up a hundred and had the lot delivered
To Belin,
his chief jailer, who found them all a billet!
WHEN GARNIER’S two nephews, young Guischard and Alori,
The sons of his two sisters – when they beheld the horses
And other captured booty returning to the fortress,
They didn’t dress for battle: they simply pressed towards it
490 Upon their raging horses, a Pagan and a piebald.
Around their necks they hoisted their bucklers double-boarded.
In naked hands they steadied their sharp and ready sword-blades
And raced away to fight for their uncle and support him.
Sir Gaifier and Seguin, both Charlemagne’s courtiers,
Were first to feel their ardour, the heat of which was scalding!
Both Aumagon and Sanson, their fathers, started roaring:
“You mongrel sons of harlots, how could you think to thwart us?
The King will take your fiefdoms and see you die in torment!
You truly must have sprung from the seed of Cain, who slaughtered
500 His brother with a dagger! What other blight could cause you
To fight against your fathers for an outsider’s fortune?
Your choice will kill your mothers, this night or in the morning!”
Their gallant sons responded: “It’s your choice that will haunt them!
Whoever thinks like you do will surely die in torment!”
When this was said the battle grew hotter than a cauldron.
Sir Girart caught a glimpse of Sir Auboin and sought him
Across the field – a meeting and matching that was mortal!
AMONG HIS BARONS’ RANK Duke Garnier remained,
A comfort and a spur, for bitter was the fray.
510 Together they observed the death of Gautier,
A hero of Nanteuil, its gonfalonier.
Behind the walls his wife, Melissa, wept and wailed.
“Be silent, foolish wife,” the duchess Aye exclaimed,
“And tell each church in town to ring its bells, I say!”
Girart and Auboin, meanwhile, came face to face
Through quartered shields of blue they’d shattered clean away,
And hauberks that were grand but hadn’t helped to save
Their backbones, which, at once, their thrusts had cleft in twain
And left them reft of life upon the open plain.
520 Upon his horse Morel Duke Garnier fell faint.
To help him Jocerant rode up with Renier.
Duke Otto tried alike to comfort Miles’s pain:
Heroines of the French Epic Page 29