CHAPTER IX. WHEREIN THE EAGLE STOOPS, THE RAVEN CROAKS, THE WOLF HOWLS, AND THE LION ROARS.
LARGE tears coursed down the cheeks of Charlemagne, as he gazed sadly on his nobles and knights, and asked himself if Heaven would permit such heroes to fall ingloriously by the hand of a miscreant.
068s
Original Size -- Medium-Size
Oliver crossed himself, and rode at the giant. All trembled; Oliver alone trembled not.
It is hardly necessary to say that the usual conditions of this class of duel were, perforce, somewhat modified on this occasion, for they forbade any blows except at the body, and permitted only cuts, not thrusts. As Angoulaffre was six times the height of Oliver, it was impossible they could be strictly adhered to.
The two combatants rushed at each other, and quickly disappeared in a cloud of dust. Then came the clash of steel, which sent a chill to all hearts. Was Could that be the noise of his fall? No! the dust cleared away, and Oliver was seen firmly seated in his saddle at the end of the lists, prepared for another course. His lance had broken the buckle of Angoulaffre’s sword-belt. The huge weapon, in falling, had made a great dent in the soil.
Frantic cries of “Hurrah for the brave knight!” rent the air.
“Charge!”
Again they dashed forward, and disappeared in the storm of dust. This time, too, Oliver escaped unharmed; but the giant, confused by the limited area of the lists, and miscalculating his distance, came down full tilt upon the public gallery, his terrible lance made a deadly passage through the crowd, and smashed the timber-work, which fell in upon the sitters. In the crash Angoulaffre’s horse lost its breast-piece.
Ganelon had never been so delighted. He hated Oliver, whose friendship for Roland was proverbial. “This evening,” said he to himself, “these boasters will sleep between four planks.”
069s
Original Size -- Medium-Size
Wolf was as pleased and malicious as Ganelon.
The Duke of Aquitaine, you must know, had been struck with Aude’s beauty, and had demanded her hand; but Gerard de Vienne had rejected the offer with scorn, and Oliver had said, with a laugh, “Go and ask Roland for it.”
Wolf and Ganelon were made to understand each other: they did not fail to joke together in a whisper while Oliver was doing battle.
Now Charlemagne was never particularly pleased to see people jesting on such occasions, and he was not slow to perceive their smothered laughter, and grew very angry at it. This sarcastic sniggering enraged him. The words of Angoulaffre still grated in his ears, and he fancied that he was the subject of pleasantry for his vassals. Turning round, delighted at a chance of relieving his anger, he said to Ganelon and Wolf—
“The wolf and the crow, Heaven help us! dare to laugh at the eagle! Has he sunk so low that he must submit to this?”
“Nay, His Majesty must not misunderstand us thus,” said Wolf. “Our recent submission to his commands should place our loyalty beyond suspicion of that sort.”
“What, then, is the reason of this unwholesome pleasantry? When the wolf is pleased, the shepherd should be on his guard.”
“An awkward blow of Oliver’s made us laugh,” said Ganelon, scowling at the combatants.
“Oho! so that Gallant knight must serve you for a laughing-stock? In truth, you would have done better to laugh at me. Am I no longer Charlemagne? Did that miscreant say true? Because a giant dares look me in the face, these dwarfs must snap at my heels! One of my bravest knights undertakes, out of regard for me, an enterprise, the very thought of which is enough to turn one’s head; he is in danger of his life, and people dare laugh at him under my very eyes! You have done ill, let me tell you; and, since the venture which Oliver undertakes is such good sport, you shall, both of you, take part in it at once. Now, raven!—now, wolf! to your prayers for this hero; for I swear by Heaven you shall take his place in the field!”
Then, leaving Ganelon and Wolf dumb with confusion, Charlemagne resumed his place. Angoulaffre and Oliver, who only awaited the monarch’s return, ran another course. This time Ferrant d’ Espagne arrived alone at the end of the lists. The giant had adopted surer measures.
He had couched so low in the saddle that his face had touched his horse’s neck. Oliver, taking advantage of this, had thrust his lance into his left eye, whereon Angoulaffre had seized him in his mighty grasp, and had gripped him so hard, that his armour, bent and bruised, forced itself into his flesh. Then the giant was seen to rise in his saddle, and hurl the luckless knight to the ground, where he lay without stirring, his armour broken, and bathed in blood.
070s
Original Size -- Medium-Size
Cries of horror resounded on all sides, but they were speedily drowned by the shouts and music of the Saracens.
Charlemagne sat motionless, with his eyes fixed on the body of Oliver. His bravest knights pressed round him, imploring him to send them to fight the giant, but he did not hear them.
They brought a litter; the surgeons entered the lists, and soon the cry was raised, “Oliver still breathes!” Then Charles roused himself, and, with tears in his eyes, exclaimed—
“Blessed St. James! I have ever had full faith in you. Save this gallant champion, and I promise you a chapel in the land of the Saracens. It shall be so lovely, it shall be the envy of all the calendar.”
Then, turning to Ganelon and Wolf, he said, “Now, as for you, Count of Mayence, and you, Duke of Aquitaine, if you do not accept the combat, I swear by Heaven that to-morrow you shall be degraded from the order of knighthood on the very spot where this brave knight has just fallen.”
“So be it,” said Ganelon, “‘twill be strange if we do not let you see we are of as gallant and noble a lineage as your favourites!” and, followed by Wolf, he descended into the lists.
071s
Original Size -- Medium-Size
