ANGOULAFFRE, who up to this had remained unmoved, now began to choke with rage. He rushed at the lion, who had again laid himself at the feet of the mistress of his choice, and, catching it up by the ear, as one would serve a rabbit, began to twist its neck. On this Oliver stepped forward.

“What ransom do you set on the lion? It is a pet that my sister has taken a fancy to, and I should like to present it to her. Will you take a ransom in gold or precious stones?”

“In the land I govern, on the shores of the Red Sea, I have a palace of turquoise, built upon pillars of crystal. It is so vast that the best walker cannot make the circuit of it between sunrise and sunset. There a hundred silver towers rise into the air; on each is a choir of singers, or a band of musicians. In the centre is a gigantic dome of embossed gold, surmounted by a diamond so huge and so bright, that even at night it can be seen thirty leagues off at sea. It is called ‘The Diamond Beacon of Safety,’ because it guides our sailors as surely as the north star.”

“I have,” said Oliver, “a sword called Glorious. Galas, Munifican, and Ansias laboured at its forging two years each. You are aware that they made nine other swords—three each. Ansias made Baptism, Florence, and Graban for Strong-i’-th’-Arm; Munifican made Durandal for Roland, and Sauvagine and Courtain for Ogier the Dane; and Galas made Flamberge and Joyeuse for Charlemagne, and Hauteclair, the third, for Closamont. When the ten swords were made, the three brothers summoned a giant, and bade him smite with Glorious against the edges of the nine others. Glorious came out of the trial triumphant, and hacked each of the other blades about a foot from the pommel. Give me the lion, and Glorious is yours!”

Angoulaffre smiled, showing his double row of teeth, yellow as brass, and sharp as pikes.

“What could I do with your arms? Look at me, and tell me if I need them. See these nails!—they pierce deeper into wrought steel than your weapon can into flesh. Behold these teeth! what engine of war is so powerful? With them I can with one gnash divide a knight in half at the waist. Look at these hands!—they can snap off an oak as you would pick a violet. Regard these arms, and tremble! With these, one day, while out hunting with the King of Persia, I strangled an elephant. Observe these feet, and dread to come near them! In Nubia a mad rhinoceros dared to attack me; he struck me in the calf; the horn broke off, and remained in the wound, while I trampled the huge beast to death under my feet. What use would your weapon be to me?”

“Nevertheless, I must have that lion; and, since you will not accept any ransom for it, let it be the prize of our combat.”

“And do you suppose you can encounter me alone?” asked Angoulaffre, grinning so horribly that the lion thought his last hour was come.

“Does it want more than one to kill a dog?”

The giant, furious, let go the lion, which hurried off, crouching behind Aude for shelter, like a chastised cur.

“Well! I am in good humour to-day,” said Angoulaffre. “You see I am disposed to smile. Be thankful for it. I shall be happy to show you how the dogs of my country bite.”

During this discussion the spectators, whose curiosity overcame their fears, had resumed their places. The knights, by the aid of their squires, had remounted their horses, and the mangled remains of Murad had disappeared. Charlemagne, reaching the royal seats, gave the signal for the commencement of the tourney.

The trumpets again resounded, mingling their music with the discordant notes of the Saracen instruments. The heralds scoured the lists, arranging all in their places. Then Angoulaffre approached Charlemagne.

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“Are you, then, he whom they call the king? What sort of people are these French, who are satisfied with such a sovereign? Is it an emperor I see before me, dressed in silk like a woman? You call us dogs, accursed Christians, and you dwell in burrows, as if you knew you shamed the sun, that deigns to touch you with a few unimportant beams. In my land the king is king not only by birth. If he were disguised amid a multitude, you would say, on beholding him, “This is the king!” He clothes his limbs in steel, and would blush to be seen in soft attire when his faithful knights are going to do battle. Coward and effeminate! You have allowed a hero, the son of a king, to be slain before your eyes without attempting to rescue him. You have had more regard for yourself and your knights than for your guest; and indeed you, all of you, have reason to rejoice at his fall. Mahomet has summoned him to his presence, ashamed to see that there were two of us to defend his name against such wretched adversaries. I alone am sufficient for such a task. Send, therefore, your peers and knights against me, either in a body or singly; and if they dare undertake the adventure, believe me, you had better give each a farewell embrace before you part.” Then pointing to Oliver, Angoulaffre continued—“This pigmy here has dared to challenge me. Give him a guard worthy, if possible, of my attention, and I consent to waste a few seconds upon him!”

Charlemagne was not accustomed to hear such language. His blood boiled with rage, and, coursing wildly through his veins, made him at one moment red as fire and the next pale as death. It must be held a final proof that a man cannot expire of rage that Charlemagne continued to live. His nobles were not a whit less moved than he. As for Angoulaffre, he continued to smile savagely.

“It is by sword-stroke and lance-thrust that such words are answered,” said Charles, “and you will receive a hundred blows for every syllable you have dared utter.”

“Ill-said, paltry kingling!” replied the giant. “Our warriors never need two blows at a foeman.”

“Enough of parley, sir,” said Roland. “Do you not see how you are delaying us?” and then he added, aside, to Oliver, “My brother and dear friend, you admire, I know, my castle on the banks of the Seine. Take it, and let me fight him first.”

“No,” said Oliver, “not for the crown would I resign this chance of earning my passport to heaven.”

“Take my horse, and give me up your place,” said Ogirr the Dane. “You know that Tachebrune is a horse without peer.”

“You are mad to persist in asking me. You do me a wrong. Neither of you would do what you ask of me.”

And saying this, Oliver, having kissed the king’s hand, assumed his arms, and ran to take his post at the extremity of the lists, opposite to Angoulaffre, who continued to grin horribly.

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