Books: Legends of Charlemagne

T >> Thomas Bulfinch >> Legends of Charlemagne

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

Charlemagne, sadly perplexed at this, commanded Bradamante to be
called, and told her what the bold Marphisa had declared.
Bradamante neither denied nor confirmed the statement, but hung
her head, and kept silence. Duke Aymon was enraged, and would fain
have set aside the pretended contract on the ground that, if made
at all, it must have been made before Rogero was baptized, and
therefore void. But not so thought Rinaldo, nor the good Orlando,
and Charlemagne knew not which way to decide, when Marphisa spoke
thus:

"Since no one else can marry the maiden while my brother lives,
let the prince meet Rogero in mortal combat, and let him who
survives take her for his bride."

This saying pleased the Emperor, and was accepted by the prince,
for he thought that, by the aid of his unknown champion, he should
surely triumph in the fight. Proclamation was therefore made for
Rogero to appear and defend his suit; and Leo, on his part, caused
search to be made on all sides for the knight of the Unicorn.

Meanwhile Rogero, overwhelmed with despair, lay stretched on the
ground in the forest night and day without food, courting death.
Here he was discovered by one of Leo's people, who, finding him
resist all attempts to remove him, hastened to his master, who was
not far off, and brought him to the spot. As he approached he
heard words which convinced him that love was the cause of the
knight's despair; but no clew was given to guide him to the object
of that love. Stooping down, the prince embraced the weeping
warrior, and, in the tenderest accents, said: "Spare not, I
entreat you, to disclose the cause of your distress, for few such
desperate evils betide mankind as are wholly past cure. It grieves
me much that you would hide your grief from me, for I am bound to
you by ties that nothing can undo. Tell me, then, your grief, and
leave me to try if wealth, art, cunning, force, or persuasion
cannot relieve you. If not, it will be time enough after all has
been tried in vain to die."

He spoke in such moving accents that Rogero could not choose but
yield. It was some time before he could command utterance; at last
he said, "My lord, when you shall know me for what I am, I doubt
not you, like myself, will be content that I should die. Know,
then, I am that Rogero whom you have so much cause to hate, and
who so hated you that, intent on putting you to death, he went to
seek you at your father's court. This I did because I could not
submit to see my promised bride borne off by you. But, as man
proposes and God disposes, your great courtesy, well tried in time
of sore need, so moved my fixed resolve, that I not only laid
aside the hate I bore, but purposed to be your friend forever. You
then asked of me to win for you the lady Bradamante, which was all
one as to demand of me my heart and soul. You know whether I
served you faithfully or not. Yours is the lady; possess her in
peace; but ask me not to live to see it. Be content rather that I
die; for vows have passed between myself and her which forbid that
while I live she can lawfully wive with another."

So filled was gentle Leo with astonishment at these words that for
a while he stood silent, with lips unmoved and steadfast gaze,
like a statue. And the discovery that the stranger was Rogero not
only abated not the good will he bore him, but increased it, so
that his distress for what Rogero suffered seemed equal to his
own. For this, and because he would appear deservedly an Emperor's
son, and, though in other things outdone, would not be surpassed
in courtesy, he says: "Rogero, had I known that day when your
matchless valor routed my troops that you were Rogero, your virtue
would have made me your own, as then it made me while I knew not
my foe, and I should have no less gladly rescued you from
Theodora's dungeon. And if I would willingly have done so then,
how much more gladly will I now restore the gift of which you
would rob yourself to confer it upon me. The damsel is more due to
you than to me, and though I know her worth, I would forego not
only her, but life itself, rather than distress a knight like
you."

This and much more he said to the same intent; till at last Rogero
replied, "I yield, and am content to live, and thus a second time
owe my life to you."

But several days elapsed before Rogero was so far restored as to
return to the royal residence, where an embassy had arrived from
the Bulgarian princes to seek the knight of the unicorn, and
tender to him the crown of that country, in place of their king,
fallen in battle.

Thus were things situated when Prince Leo, leading by the hand
Rogero, clad in the battered armor in which he had sustained the
conflict with Bradamante, presented himself before the king.
"Behold," he said "the champion who maintained from dawn to
setting sun the arduous contest; he comes to claim the guerdon of
the fight." King Charlemagne, with all his peerage, stood amazed;
for all believed that the Grecian prince himself had fought with
Bradamante. Then stepped forth Marphisa, and said, "Since Rogero
is not here to assert his rights, I, his sister, undertake his
cause, and will maintain it against whoever shall dare dispute his
claim." She said this with so much anger and disdain that the
prince deemed it no longer wise to feign, and withdrew Rogero's
helmet from his brow, saying, "Behold him here!" Who can describe
the astonishment and joy of Marphisa! She ran and threw her arms
about her brother's neck, nor would give way to let Charlemagne
and Rinaldo, Orlando, Dudon, and the rest, who crowded round,
embrace him, and press friendly kisses on his brow. The joyful
tidings flew fast by many a messenger to Bradamante, who in her
secret chamber lay lamenting. The blood that stagnated about her
heart flowed at that notice so fast, that she had wellnigh died
for joy. Duke Aymon and the Lady Beatrice no longer withheld their
consent, and pledged their daughter to the brave Rogero before all
that gallant company.

Now came the Bulgarian ambassadors, and, kneeling at the feet of
Rogero, besought him to return with them to their country, where,
in Adrianople, the crown and sceptre were awaiting his acceptance.
Prince Leo united his persuasions to theirs, and promised, in his
royal father's name, that peace should be restored on their part.
Rogero gave his consent, and it was surmised that none of the
virtues which shone so conspicuously in him so availed to
recommend Rogero to the Lady Beatrice as the hearing her future
son-in-law saluted as a sovereign prince.

THE BATTLE OF RONCESVALLES

After the expulsion of the Saracens from France Charlemagne led
his army into Spain, to punish Marsilius, the king of that
country, for having sided with the African Saracens in the late
war. Charlemagne succeeded in all his attempts, and compelled
Marsilius to submit, and pay tribute to France. Our readers will
remember Gano, otherwise called Gan, or Ganelon, whom we mentioned
in one of our early chapters as an old courtier of Charlemagne,
and a deadly enemy of Orlando, Rinaldo, and all their friends. He
had great influence over Charles, from equality of age and long
intimacy; and he was not without good qualities: he was brave and
sagacious, but envious, false, and treacherous. Gan prevailed on
Charles to send him as ambassador to Marsilius, to arrange the
tribute. He embraced Orlando over and over again at taking leave,
using such pains to seem loving and sincere, that his hypocrisy
was manifest to every one but the old monarch. He fastened with
equal tenderness on Oliver, who smiled contemptuously in his face,
and thought to himself, "You may make as many fair speeches as you
choose, but you lie." All the other paladins who were present
thought the same, and they said as much to the Emperor, adding
that Gan should on no account be sent ambassador to the Spaniards.
But Charles was infatuated.

Gan was received with great honor by Marsilius. The king, attended
by his lords, came fifteen miles out of Saragossa to meet him, and
then conducted him into the city with acclamations. There was
nothing for several days but balls, games, and exhibitions of
chivalry, the ladies throwing flowers on the heads of the French
knights, and the people shouting, "France! Mountjoy and St.
Denis!"

After the ceremonies of the first reception the king and the
ambassador began to understand one another. One day they sat
together in a garden on the border of a fountain. The water was so
clear and smooth it reflected every object around, and the spot
was encircled with fruit-trees which quivered with the fresh air.
As they sat and talked, as if without restraint, Gan, without
looking the king in the face, was enabled to see the expression of
his countenance in the water, and governed his speech accordingly.
Marsilius was equally adroit, and watched the face of Gan while he
addressed him. Marsilius began by lamenting, not as to the
ambassador, but as to the friend, the injuries which Charles had
done him by invading his dominions, charging him with wishing to
take his kingdom from him and give it to Orlando; till at length
he plainly uttered his belief that if that ambitious paladin were
but dead good men would get their rights.

Gan heaved a sigh, as if he was unwillingly compelled to allow the
force of what the king said; but unable to contain himself long he
lifted up his face, radiant with triumphant wickedness, and
exclaimed: "Every word you utter is truth; die he must, and die
also must Oliver, who struck me that foul blow at court. Is it
treachery to punish affronts like these? I have planned
everything,--I have settled everything already with their
besotted master. Orlando will come to your borders--to
Roncesvalles--for the purpose of receiving the tribute. Charles
will await him at the foot of the mountains. Orlando will bring
but a small band with him: you, when you meet him, will have
secretly your whole army at your back. You surround him, and who
receives tribute then?"

The new Judas had scarcely uttered these words when his exultation
was interrupted by a change in the face of nature. The sky was
suddenly overcast, there was thunder and lightning, a laurel was
split in two from head to foot, and the Carob-tree under which Gan
was sitting, which is said to be the species of tree on which
Judas Iscariot hung himself, dropped one of its pods on his head.

Marsilius, as well as Gan, was appalled at this omen; but on
assembling his soothsayers they came to the conclusion that the
laurel-tree turned the omen against the Emperor, the successor of
the Caesars, though one of them renewed the consternation of Gan
by saying that he did not understand the meaning of the tree of
Judas, and intimating that perhaps the ambassador could explain
it. Gan relieved his vexation by anger; the habit of wickedness
prevailed over all other considerations; and the king prepared to
march to Roncesvalles at the head of all his forces.

Gan wrote to Charlemagne to say how humbly and submissively
Marsilius was coming to pay the tribute into the hands of Orlando,
and how handsome it would be of the Emperor to meet him half-way,
and so be ready to receive him after the payment at his camp. He
added a brilliant account of the tribute, and the accompanying
presents. The good Emperor wrote in turn to say how pleased he was
with the ambassador's diligence, and that matters were arranged
precisely as he wished. His court, however, had its suspicion
still, though they little thought Gan's object in bringing Charles
into the neighborhood of Roncesvalles was to deliver him into the
hands of Marsilius, after Orlando should have been destroyed by
him.

Orlando, however, did as his lord and sovereign desired. He went
to Roncesvalles, accompanied by a moderate train of warriors, not
dreaming of the atrocity that awaited him. Gan, meanwhile, had
hastened back to France, in order to show himself free and easy in
the presence of Charles, and secure the success of his plot; while
Marsilius, to make assurance doubly sure, brought into the passes
of Roncesvalles no less than three armies, which were successively
to fall on the paladin in case of the worst, and so extinguish him
with numbers. He had also, by Gan's advice, brought heaps of wine
and good cheer to be set before his victims in the first instance;
"for that," said the traitor, "will render the onset the more
effective, the feasters being unarmed. One thing, however, I must
not forget," added he; "my son Baldwin is sure to be with Orlando;
you must take care of his life for my sake."

"I give him this vesture off my own body," said the king; "let him
wear it in the battle, and have no fear. My soldiers shall be
directed not to touch him."

Gan went away rejoicing to France. He embraced the sovereign and
the court all round with the air of a man who had brought them
nothing but blessings, and the old king wept for very tenderness
and delight.

"Something is going on wrong, and looks very black," thought
Malagigi, the good wizard; "Rinaldo is not here, and it is
indispensably necessary that he should be. I must find out where
he is, and Ricciardetto too, and send for them with all speed."

Malagigi called up by his art a wise, terrible, and cruel spirit,
named Ashtaroth. "Tell me, and tell me truly, of Rinaldo," said
Malagigi to the spirit. The demon looked hard at the paladin, and
said nothing. His aspect was clouded and violent.

The enchanter, with an aspect still cloudier, bade Ashtaroth lay
down that look, and made signs as if he would resort to angrier
compulsion; and the devil, alarmed, loosened his tongue, and said,
"You have not told me what you desire to know of Rinaldo."

"I desire to know what he has been doing, and where he is."

"He has been conquering and baptizing the world, east and west,"
said the demon, "and is now in Egypt with Ricciardetto."

"And what has Gan been plotting with Marsilius?" inquired
Malagigi; "and what is to come of it?"

"I know not," said the devil. "I was not attending to Gan at the
time, and we fallen spirits know not the future. All I discern is
that by the signs and comets in the heavens something dreadful is
about to happen--something very strange, treacherous, and bloody;
and that Gan has a seat ready prepared for him in hell."

"Within three days," cried the enchanter, loudly, "bring Rinaldo
and Ricciardetto into the pass of Ronces-Valles. Do it, and I
hereby undertake to summon thee no more."

"Suppose they will not trust themselves with me?" said the spirit.

"Enter Rinaldo's horse, and bring him, whether he trust thee or
not."

"It shall be done," returned the demon.

There was an earthquake, and Ashtaroth disappeared.

Marsilius now made his first movement towards the destruction of
Orlando, by sending before him his vassal, King Blanchardin, with
his presents of wines and other luxuries. The temperate but
courteous hero took them in good part, and distributed them as the
traitor wished; and then Blanchardin, on pretence of going forward
to salute Charlemagne, returned, and put himself at the head of
the second army, which was the post assigned him by his liege-
lord. King Falseron, whose son Orlando had slain in battle, headed
the first army, and King Balugante the third. Marsilius made a
speech to them, in which he let them into his design, and
concluded by recommending to their good will the son of his friend
Gan, whom they would know by the vest he had sent him, and who was
the only soul amongst the Christian they were to spare.

This son of Gan, meanwhile, and several of the paladins, who
distrusted the misbelievers, and were anxious at all events to be
with Orlando, had joined the hero in the fatal valley; so that the
little Christian host, considering the tremendous valor of their
lord and his friends, were not to be sold for nothing. Rinaldo,
alas! the second thunderbolt of Christendom, was destined not to
be there in time to meet the issue. The paladins in vain begged
Orlando to be on his guard against treachery, and send for a more
numerous body of men. The great heart of the Champion of the Faith
was unwilling to harbor suspicion as long as he could help it. He
refused to summon aid which might be superfluous; neither would he
do anything but what his liege-lord had directed. And yet he could
not wholly repress a misgiving. A shadow had fallen on his heart,
great and cheerful as it was. The anticipations of his friends
disturbed him, in spite of the face with which he met them.
Perhaps by a certain foresight he felt his death approaching; but
he felt bound not to encourage the impression. Besides, time
pressed; the moment of the looked-for tribute was at hand, and
little combinations of circumstances determine often the greatest
events.

King Marsilius was to arrive early next day with the tribute, and
Oliver, with the morning sun, rode forth to reconnoitre, and see
if he could discover the peaceful pomp of the Spanish court in the
distance. He rode up the nearest height, and from the top of it
beheld the first army of Marsilius already forming in the passes.
"O devil Gan," he exclaimed, "this then is the consummation of thy
labors!" Oliver put spurs to his horse, and galloped back down the
mountain to Orlando.

"Well," cried the hero, "what news?"

"Bad news," said his cousin, "such as you would not hear of
yesterday. Marsilius is here in arms, and all the world is with
him."

The paladins pressed round Orlando, and entreated him to sound his
horn, in token that he needed help. His only answer was to mount
his horse, and ride up the mountain with Sansonetto.

As soon, however, as he cast forth his eyes, and beheld what was
round about him, he turned in sorrow, and looked down into
Roncesvalles, and said, "O miserable valley! the blood shed in
thee this day will color thy name forever."

Orlando's little camp were furious against the Saracens. They
armed themselves with the greatest impatience. There was nothing
but lacing of helmets and mounting of horses, while good
Archbishop Turpin went from rank to rank exhorting and encouraging
the warriors of Christ. Orlando and his captains withdrew for a
moment to consultation. He fairly groaned for sorrow, and at first
had not a word to say, so wretched he felt at having brought his
people to die in Roncesvalles. Then he said: "If it had entered
into my heart to conceive the king of Spain to be such a villain
never would you have seen this day. He has exchanged with me a
thousand courtesies and good words; and I thought that the worse
enemies we had been before, the better friends we had become now.
I fancied every human being capable of this kind of virtue on a
good opportunity, saving, indeed, such base-hearted wretches as
can never forgive their very forgivers; and of these I did not
suppose him to be one. Let us die, if die we must, like honest and
gallant men, so that it shall be said of us it was only our bodies
that died. The reason why I did not sound the horn was partly
because I thought it did not become us, and partly because our
liege lord could hardly save us, even if he heard it." And with
these words Orlando sprang to his horse, crying, "Aways against
the Saracens!" But he had no sooner turned his face than he wept
bitterly, and said, "O Holy Virgin, think not of me, the sinner
Orlando, but have pity on these thy servants!"

And now with a mighty dust, and an infinite sound of horns and
tambours, which came filling the valley, the first army of the
infidels made its appearance, horses neighing, and a thousand
pennons flying in the air. King Falseron led them on, saying to
his officers: "Let nobody dare to lay a finger on Orlando. He
belongs to myself. The revenge of my son's death is mine. I will
cut the man down that comes between us." "Now, friends," said
Orlando, "every man for himself, and St. Michael for us all! There
is not one here that is not a perfect knight." And he might well
say it, for the flower of all France was there, except Rinaldo and
Ricciardetto--every man a picked man, all friends and constant
companions of Orlando.

So the captains of the little troop and of the great army sat
looking at one another, and singling one another out as the latter
came on, and then the knights put spear in rest, and ran for a
while two and two in succession, one against the other.

Astolpho was the first to move. He ran against Arlotto of Sorio,
and thrust his antagonist's body out of the saddle, and his soul
into the other world. Oliver encountered Malprimo, and, though he
received a thrust which hurt him, sent his lance right through the
heart of Malprimo.

Falseron was daunted at this blow. "Truly," thought he, "this is a
marvel." Oliver did not press on among the Saracens, his wound was
too painful; but Orlando now put himself and his whole band in
motion, and you may guess what an uproar ensued. The sound of the
rattling of blows and helmets was as if the forge of Vulcan had
been thrown open. Falseron beheld Orlando coming so furiously,
that he thought him a Lucifer who had burst his chain, and was
quite of another mind than when he purposed to have him all to
himself. On the contrary, he recommended himself to his gods, and
turned away, meaning to wait for a more auspicious season of
revenge. But Orlando hailed him with a terrible voice, saying, "O
thou traitor! was this the end to which old quarrels were made
up?" Then he dashed at Falseron with a fury so swift, and at the
same time with a mastery of his lance so marvellous, that, though
he plunged it in the man's body so as instantly to kill him, and
then withdrew it, the body did not move in the saddle. The hero
himself, as he rushed onwards, was fain to see the end of a stroke
so perfect, and turning his horse back, touched the carcass with
his sword, and it fell on the instant!

When the infidels beheld their leader dead such fear fell upon
them that they were for leaving the field to the paladins, but
they were unable. Marsilius had drawn the rest of his forces round
the valley like a net, so that their shoulders were turned in
vain. Orlando rode into the thick of them, and wherever he went
thunderbolts fell upon helmets. Oliver was again in the fray, with
Walter and Baldwin, Avino and Avolio, while Arch-bishop Turpin
had changed his crosier for a lance, and chased a new flock before
him to the mountains.

Yet what could be done against foes without number? Marsilius
constantly pours them in. The paladins are as units to thousands.
Why tarry the horses of Rinaldo and Ricciardetto?

The horses did not tarry, but fate had been quicker than
enchantment. Ashtaroth had presented himself to Rinaldo in Egypt,
and, after telling his errand, he and Foul-mouth, his servant,
entered the horses of Rinaldo and Ricciardetto, which began to
neigh, and snort, and leap with the fiends within them, till off
they flew through the air over the pyramids and across the desert,
and reached Spain and the scene of action just as Marsilius
brought up his third army. The two paladins on their horses
dropped right into the midst of the Saracens, and began making
such havoc among them that Marsilius, who overlooked the fight
from a mountain, thought his soldiers had turned against one
another. Orlando beheld it, and guessed it could be no other but
his cousins, and pressed to meet them. Oliver coming up at the
same moment, the rapture of the whole party is not to be
expressed. After a few hasty words of explanation they were forced
to turn again upon the enemy, whose numbers seemed perfectly
without limit.

Orlando, making a bloody passage towards Marsilius, struck a youth
on the head, whose helmet was so strong as to resist the blow, but
at the same time flew off, Orlando prepared to strike a second
blow, when the youth exclaimed, "Hold! you loved my father; I am
Bujaforte!" The paladin had never seen Bujaforte, but he saw the
likeness to the good old man, his father, and he dropped his
sword. "O Bujaforte," said he, "I loved him indeed; but what does
his son do here fighting against his friends?"

Bujaforte could not at once speak for weeping. At length he said:
"I am forced to be here by my lord and master, Marsilius; and I
have made a show of fighting, but have not hurt a single
Christian. Treachery is on every side of you. Baldwin himself has
a vest given him by Marsilius, that everybody may know the son of
his friend Gan, and do him no harm."

"Put your helmet on again," said Orlando, "and behave just as you
have done. Never will your father's friend be an enemy to the
son."

The hero then turned in fury to look for Baldwin, who was
hastening towards him at that moment, with friendliness in his
looks.

"'Tis strange," said Baldwin, "I have done my duty as well as I
could, yet nobody will come against me. I have slain right and
left, and cannot comprehend what it is that makes the stoutest
infidels avoid me."

"Take off your vest," said Orlando, contemptuously, "and you will
soon discover the secret, if you wish to know it. Your father has
sold us to Marsilius, all but his honorable son."

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23