Books: Legends of Charlemagne

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"If my father," said Baldwin, impetuously tearing off the vest,
"has been such a villain, and I escape dying, I will plunge this
sword through his heart. But I am no traitor, Orlando, and you do
me wrong to say it. Think not I can live with dishonor."

Baldwin spurred off into the fight, not waiting to hear another
word from Orlando, who was very sorry for what he had said, for he
perceived that the youth was in despair.

And now the fight raged beyond all it had done before; twenty
pagans went down for one paladin, but still the paladins fell.
Sansonetto was beaten to earth by the club of Grandonio, Walter
d'Amulion had his shoulder broken, Berlinghieri and Ottone were
slain, and at last Astolpho fell, in revenge of whose death
Orlando turned the spot where he died into a lake of Saracen
blood. The luckless Bujaforte met Rinaldo, and before he could
explain how he seemed to be fighting on the Saracen side received
such a blow upon the head that he fell, unable to utter a word.
Orlando, cutting his way to a spot where there was a great
struggle and uproar, found the poor youth Baldwin, the son of Gan,
with two spears in his breast. "I am no traitor now," said
Baldwin, and those were the last words he said. Orlando was
bitterly sorry to have been the cause of his death, and tears
streamed from his eyes. At length down went Oliver himself. He had
become blinded with his own blood, and smitten Orlando without
knowing him. "How now, cousin," cried Orlando, "have you too gone
over to the enemy?" "O my lord and master," cried the other, "I
ask your pardon. I can see nothing; I am dying. Some traitor has
stabbed me in the back. If you love me, lead my horse into the
thick of them, so that I may not die unavenged."

"I shall die myself before long," said Orlando, "out of very toil
and grief; so we will go together."

Orlando led his cousin's horse where the press was thickest, and
dreadful was the strength of the dying man and his tired
companion. They made a street through which they passed out of the
battle, and Orlando led his cousin away to his tent, and said,
"Wait a little till I return, for I will go and sound the horn on
the hill yonder."

"'Tis of no use," said Oliver, "my spirit is fast going and
desires to be with its Lord and Saviour."

He would have said more, but his words came from him imperfectly,
like those of a man in a dream, and so he expired.

When Orlando saw him dead he felt as if he was alone on the earth,
and he was quite willing to leave it, only he wished that King
Charles, at the foot of the mountains, should know how the case
stood before he went. So he took up the horn and blew it three
times, with such force that the blood burst out of his nose and
mouth. Turpin says that at the third blast the horn broke in two.

In spite of all the noise of the battle, the sound of the horn
broke over it like a voice out of the other world. They say that
birds fell dead at it, and that the whole Saracen army drew back
in terror. Charlemagne was sitting in the midst of his court when
the sound reached him, and Gan was there. The Emperor was the
first to hear it.

"Do you hear that?" said he to his nobles. "Did you hear the horn
as I heard it?"

Upon this they all listened, and Gan felt his heart misgive him.
The horn sounded a second time.

"What is the meaning of this?" said Charles.

"Orlando is hunting," observed Gan, "and the stag is killed."

But when the horn sounded yet a third time, and the blast was one
of so dreadful a vehemence, everybody looked at the other, and
then they all looked at Gan in a fury. Charles rose from his seat.

"This is no hunting of the stag," said he. "The sound goes to my
very heart. O Gan! O Gan! Not for thee do I blush, but for myself.
O foul and monstrous villain! Take him, gentleman, and keep him in
close prison. Would to God I had not lived to see this day!"

But it was no time for words. They put the traitor in prison and
then Charles, with all his court, took his way to Roncesvalles,
grieving and praying.

It was afternoon when the horn sounded, and half an hour after it
when the Emperor set out; and meantime Orlando had returned to the
fight that he might do his duty, however hopeless, as long as he
could sit his horse. At length he found his end approaching, for
toil and fever, and rode all alone to a fountain where he had
before quenched his thirst. His horse was wearier than he, and no
sooner had his master alighted than the beast, kneeling down as if
to take leave, and to say, "I have brought you to a place of
rest," fell dead at his feet. Orlando cast water on him from the
fountain, not wishing to believe him dead; but when he found it to
no purpose, he grieved for him as if he had been a human being,
and addressed him by name with tears, and asked forgiveness if he
had ever done him wrong. They say that the horse, at these words,
opened his eyes a little, and looked kindly at his master, and
then stirred never more. They say also that Orlando then summoning
all his strength, smote a rock near him with his beautiful sword
Durindana, thinking to shiver the steel in pieces, and so prevent
its falling into the hands of the enemy, but though the rock split
like a slate, and a great cleft remained ever after to astonish
the eyes of pilgrims, the sword remained uninjured.

And now Rinaldo and Ricciardetto came up, with Turpin, having
driven back the Saracens, and told Orlando that the battle was
won. Then Orlando knelt before Turpin and begged remission of his
sins, and Turpin gave him absolution. Orlando fixed his eyes on
the hilt of his sword as on a crucifix, and embraced it, and he
raised his eyes and appeared like a creature seraphical and
transfigured, and bowing his head, he breathed out his pure soul.

And now King Charles and his nobles came up. The Emperor, at sight
of the dead Orlando, threw himself, as if he had been a reckless
youth, from his horse, and embraced and kissed the body, and said:
"I bless thee, Orlando; I bless thy whole life, and all that thou
wast, and all that thou ever didst, and the father that begat
thee; and I ask pardon of thee for believing those who brought
thee to thine end. They shall have their reward, O thou beloved
one! But indeed it is thou that livest, and I who am worse than
dead."

Horrible to the Emperor's eyes was the sight of the field of
Roncesvalles. The Saracens indeed had fled, conquered; but all his
paladins but two were left on it dead, and the whole valley looked
like a great slaughter-house, trampled into blood and dirt, and
reeking to the heat. Charles trembled to his heart's core for
wonder and agony. After gazing dumbly on the place he cursed it
with a solemn curse, and wished that never grass might grow in it
again, nor seed of any kind, neither within it nor on any of its
mountains around, but the anger of Heaven abide over it forever.

Charles and his warriors went after the Saracens into Spain. They
took and fired Saragossa, and Marsilius was hung to the carob-tree
under which he had planned his villainy with Gan; and Gan was hung
and drawn and quartered in Roncesvalles, amidst the execrations of
the country.

RINALDO AND BAYARD

CHARLEMAGNE was overwhelmed with grief at the loss of so many of
his bravest warriors at the disaster of Roncesvalles, and bitterly
reproached himself for his credulity in resigning himself so
completely to the counsels of the treacherous Count Gan. Yet he
soon fell into a similar snare when he suffered his unworthy son,
Charlot, to acquire such an influence over him, that he constantly
led him into acts of cruelty and injustice that in his right mind
he would have scorned to commit. Rinaldo and his brothers, for
some slight offence to the imperious young prince, were forced to
fly from Paris, and to take shelter in their castle of Montalban;
for Charles had publicly said, if he could take them he would hang
them all. He sent numbers of his bravest knights to arrest them,
but all without success. Either Rinaldo foiled their efforts and
sent them back, stripped of their armor and of their glory, or,
after meeting and conferring with him, they came back and told the
king they could not be his instruments for such a work.

At last Charles himself raised a great army, and went in person to
compel the paladin to submit. He ravaged all the country round
about Montalban, so that supplies of food should be cut off, and
he threatened death to any who should attempt to issue forth,
hoping to compel the garrison to submit for want of food.

Rinaldo's resources had been brought so low that it seemed useless
to contend any longer. His brothers had been taken prisoners in a
skirmish, and his only hope of saving their lives was in making
terms with the king.

So he sent a messenger, offering to yield himself and his castle
if the king would spare his and his brothers' lives. While the
messenger was gone Rinaldo, impatient to learn what tidings he
might bring, rode out to meet him. When he had ridden as far as he
thought prudent he stopped in a wood, and alighting, tied Bayard
to a tree. Then he sat down, and, as he waited, he fell asleep.
Bayard meanwhile got loose, and strayed away where the grass
tempted him. Just then came along some country people, who said to
one another, "Look, is not that the great horse Bayard that
Rinaldo rides? Let us take him, and carry him to King Charles, who
will pay us well for our trouble." They did so, and the king was
delighted with his prize, and gave them a present that made them
rich to their dying day.

When Rinaldo woke he looked round for his horse, and, finding him
not, he groaned, and said, "O unlucky hour that I was born! how
fortune persecutes me!" So desperate was he that he took off his
armor and his spurs, saying, "What need have I of these, since
Bayard is lost?" While he stood thus lamenting, a man came from
the thicket, seemingly bent with age. He had a long beard hanging
over his breast, and eyebrows that almost covered his eyes. He
bade Rinaldo good day. Rinaldo thanked him, and said, "A good day
I have hardly had since I was born." Then said the old man,
"Signor Rinaldo, you must not despair, for God will make all
things turn to the best." Rinaldo answered, "My trouble is too
heavy for me to hope relief. The king has taken my brothers, and
means to put them to death. I thought to rescue them by means of
my horse Bayard, but while I slept some thief has stolen him." The
old man replied, "I will remember you and your brothers in my
prayers. I am a poor man, have you not something to give me?"
Rinaldo said, "I have nothing to give," but then he recollected
his spurs. He gave them to the beggar, and said, "Here, take my
spurs. They are the first present my mother gave me when my
father, Count Aymon, dubbed me knight. They ought to bring you ten
pounds."

The old man took the spurs, and put them into his sack, and said,
"Noble sir, have you nothing else you can give me?" Rinaldo
replied, "Are you making sport of me? I tell you truly if it were
not for shame to beat one so helpless, I would teach you better
manners." The old man said, "Of a truth, sir, if you did so you
would do a great sin. If all had beaten me of whom I have begged I
should have been killed long ago, for I ask alms in churches and
convents, and wherever I can." "You say true," replied Rinaldo,
"if you did not ask, none would relieve you." The old man said,
"True, noble sir, therefore I pray if you have anything more to
spare, give it me." Rinaldo gave him his mantle, and said, "Take
it, pilgrim. I give it you for the love of Christ, that God would
save my brothers from a shameful death, and help me to escape out
of King Charles's power."

The pilgrim took the mantle, folded it up, and put it into his
bag. Then a third time he said to Rinaldo, "Sir, have you nothing
left to give me that I may remember you in my prayers?" "Wretch!"
exclaimed Rinaldo, "do you make me your sport?" and he drew his
sword, and struck at him; but the old man warded off the blow with
his staff, and said, "Rinaldo, would you slay your cousin,
Malagigi?" When Rinaldo heard that he stayed his hand, and gazed
doubtingly on the old man, who now threw aside his disguise, and
appeared to be indeed Malagigi. "Dear cousin," said Rinaldo, "pray
forgive me. I did not know you. Next to God, my trust is in you.
Help my brothers to escape out of prison, I entreat you. I have
lost my horse, and therefore cannot render them any assistance."
Malagigi answered, "Cousin Rinaldo, I will enable you to recover
your horse. Meanwhile, you must do as I say."

Then Malagigi took from his sack a gown, and gave it to Rinaldo to
put on over his armor, and a hat that was full of holes, and an
old pair of shoes to put on. They looked like two pilgrims, very
old and poor. Then they went forth from the wood, and after a
little while saw four monks riding along the road. Malagigi said
to Rinaldo, "I will go meet the monks, and see what news I can
learn."

Malagigi learned from the monks that on the approaching festival
there would be a great crowd of people at court, for the prince
was going to show the ladies the famous horse Bayard that used to
belong to Rinaldo. "What!" said the pilgrim; "is Bayard there?"
"Yes," answered the monks; "the king has given him to Charlot,
and, after the prince has ridden him the king means to pass
sentence on the brothers of Rinaldo, and have them hanged." Then
Malagigi asked alms of the monks, but they would give him none,
till he threw aside his pilgrim garb, and let them see his armor,
when, partly for charity and partly for terror, they gave him a
golden cup, adorned with precious stones that sparkled in the
sunshine.

Malagigi then hastened back to Rinaldo, and told him what he had
learned.

The morning of the feast-day Rinaldo and Malagigi came to the
place where the sports were to be held. Malagigi gave Rinaldo his
spurs back again, and said, "Cousin, put on your spurs, for you
will need them." "How shall I need them," said Rinaldo, "since I
have lost my horse?" Yet he did as Malagigi directed him.

When the two had taken their stand on the border of the field
among the crowd the princes and ladies of the court began to
assemble. When they were all assembled the king came also, and
Charlot with him, near whom the horse Bayard was led, in the
charge of grooms, who were expressly enjoined to guard him safely.
The king, looking round on the circle of spectators, saw Malagigi
and Rinaldo, and observed the splendid cup that they had, and said
to Charlot, "See, my son, what a brilliant cup those two pilgrims
have got. It seems to be worth a hundred ducats." "That is true,"
said Charlot; "Let us go and ask where they got it." So they rode
to the place where the pilgrims stood, and Charlot stopped Bayard
close to them.

The horse snuffed at the pilgrims, knew Rinaldo, and caressed his
master. The king said to Malagigi, "Friend, where did you get that
beautiful cup?" Malagigi replied, "Honorable sir, I paid for it
all the money I have saved from eleven years' begging in churches
and convents. The Pope himself has blessed it, and given it the
power that whosoever eats or drinks out of it shall be pardoned of
all his sins." Then said the king to Charlot, "My son, these are
right holy men; see how the dumb beast worships them."

Then the king said to Malagigi, "Give me a morsel from your cup,
that I may be cleared of my sins." Malagigi answered, "Illustrious
lord, I dare not do it, unless you will forgive all who have at
any time offended you. You know that Christ forgave all those who
had betrayed and crucified him." The king replied, "Friend, that
is true; but Rinaldo has so grievously offended me, that I cannot
forgive him, nor that other man, Malagigi, the magician. These two
shall never live in my kingdom again. If I catch them I will
certainly have them hanged. But tell me, pilgrim, who is that man
who stands beside you?" "He is deaf, dumb, and blind," said
Malagigi. Then the king said again, "Give me to drink of your cup,
to take away my sins." Malagigi answered, "My lord king, here is
my poor brother, who for fifty days has not heard, spoken, nor
seen. This misfortune befell him in a house where we found
shelter, and the day before yesterday we met with a wise woman,
who told him the only hope of a cure for him was to come to some
place where Bayard was to be ridden, and to mount and ride him;
that would do him more good than anything else." Then said the
king, "Friend, you have come to the right place, for Bayard is to
be ridden here to-day. Give me a draught from your cup, and your
companion shall ride upon Bayard." Malagigi, hearing these words,
said, "Be it so." Then the king, with great devotion, took a
spoon, and dipped a portion from the pilgrim's cup, believing that
his sins should be thereby forgiven.

When this was done, the king said to Charlot, "Son, I request that
you will let this sick pilgrim sit on your horse, and ride if he
can, for by so doing he will be healed of all his infirmities."
Charlot replied, "That will I gladly do." So saying, he
dismounted, and the servants took the pilgrim in their arms, and
helped him on the horse.

Wher Rinaldo was mounted, he put his feet in the stirrups, and
said, "I would like to ride a little." Malagigi, hearing him
speak, seemed delighted, and asked him whether he could see and
hear also. "Yes," said Rinaldo, "I am healed of all my
infirmities." When the king heard it he said to Bishop Turpin, "My
lord bishop, we must celebrate this with a procession, with
crosses and banners, for it is a great miracle."

When Rinaldo remarked that he was not carefully watched, he spoke
to the horse, and touched him with the spurs. Bayard knew that his
master was upon him, and he started off upon a rapid pace, and in
a few moments was a good way off. Malagigi pretended to be in
great alarm. "O noble king and master," he cried, "my poor
companion is run away with; he will fall and break his neck." The
king ordered his knights to ride after the pilgrim, and bring him
back, or help him if need were. They did so, but it was in vain.
Rinaldo left them all behind him, and kept on his way till he
reached Montalban. Malagigi was suffered to depart, unsuspected,
and he went his way, making sad lamentation for the fate of his
comrade, who he pretended to think must surely be dashed to
pieces.

Malagigi did not go far, but having changed his disguise, returned
to where the king was, and employed his best art in getting the
brothers of Rinaldo out of prison. He succeeded; and all three got
safely to Montalban, where Rinaldo's joy at the rescue of his
brothers and the recovery of Bayard was more than tongue can tell.

DEATH OF RINALDO

THE distress in Rinaldo's castle for want of food grew more severe
every day, under the pressure of the siege. The garrison were
forced to kill their horses, both to save the provision they would
consume, and to make food of their flesh. At last all the horses
were killed except Bayard, and Rinaldo said to his brothers,
"Bayard must die, for we have nothing else to eat." So they went
to the stable and brought out Bayard to kill him. But Alardo said,
"Brother, let Bayard live a little longer; who knows what God may
do for us?"

Bayard heard these words, and understood them as if he was a man,
and fell on his knees, as if he would beg for mercy. When Rinaldo
saw the distress of his horse his heart failed him, and he let him
live.

Just at this time Aya, Rinaldo's mother, who was the sister of the
Emperor, came to the camp, attended by knights and ladies, to
intercede for her sons. She fell on her knees before the king, and
besought him that he would pardon Rinaldo and his brothers: and
all the peers and knights took her side, and entreated the king to
grant her prayer. Then said the king, "Dear sister, you act the
part of a good mother, and I respect your tender heart, and yield
to your entreaties. I will spare your sons their lives if they
submit implicitly to my will."

When Charlot heard this he approached the king and whispered in
his ear. And the king turned to his sister and said, "Charlot must
have Bayard, because I have given the horse to him. Now go, my
sister, and tell Rinaldo what I have said."

When the Lady Aya heard these words she was delighted, thanked God
in her heart, and said, "Worthy king and brother, I will do as you
bid me." So she went into the castle, where her sons received her
most joyfully and affectionately, and she told them the king's
offer. Then Alardo said, "Brother, I would rather have the king's
enmity than give Bayard to Charlot, for I believe he will kill
him." Likewise said all the brothers. When Rinaldo heard them he
said, "Dear brothers, if we may win our forgiveness by giving up
the horse, so be it. Let us make our peace, for we cannot stand
against the king's power." Then he went to his mother, and told
her they would give the horse to Charlot, and more, too, if the
king would pardon them, and forgive all that they had done against
his crown and dignity. The lady returned to Charles and told him
the answer of her sons.

When the peace was thus made between the king and the sons of
Aymon, the brothers came forth from the castle, bringing Bayard
with them, and, falling at the king's feet, begged his
forgiveness. The king bade them rise, and received them into favor
in the sight of all his noble knights and counsellors, to the
great joy of all, especially of the Lady Aya, their mother. Then
Rinaldo took the horse Bayard, gave him to Charlot, and said, "My
lord and prince, this horse I give to you; do with him as to you
seems good." Charlot took him, as had been agreed on. Then he made
the servants take him to the bridge, and throw him into the water.
Bayard sank to the bottom, but soon came to the surface again and
swam, saw Rinaldo looking at him, came to land, ran to his old
master, and stood by him as proudly as if he had understanding,
and would say, "Why did you treat me so?" When the prince saw that
he said, "Rinaldo, give me the horse again, for he must die."
Rinaldo replied, "My lord and prince, he is yours without
dispute," and gave him to him. The prince then had a millstone
tied to each foot, and two to his neck, and made them throw him
again into the water. Bayard struggled in the water, looked up to
his master, threw off the stones, and came back to Rinaldo.

When Alardo saw that, he said, "Now must thou be disgraced
forever, brother, if thou give up the horse again." But Rinaldo
answered, "Brother, be still. Shall I for the horse's life provoke
the anger of the king again?" Then Alardo said, "Ah, Bayard! what
a return do we make for all thy true love and service!" Rinaldo
gave the horse to the prince again, and said, "My lord, if the
horse comes out again I cannot return him to you any more, for it
wrings my heart too much." Then Chariot had Bayard loaded with the
stones as before, and thrown into the water; and commanded Rinaldo
that he should not stand where the horse would see him. When
Bayard rose to the surface he stretched his neck out of the water
and looked round for his master, but saw him not. Then he sunk to
the bottom.

Rinaldo was so distressed for the loss of Bayard that he made a
vow to ride no horse again all his life long, nor to bind a sword
to his side, but to become a hermit. He resolved to betake himself
to some wild wood, but first to return to his castle, to see his
children, and to appoint to each his share of his estate.

So he took leave of the king and of his brothers, and returned to
Montalban, and his brothers remained with the king. Rinaldo called
his children to him, and he made his eldest born, Aymeric, a
knight, and made him lord of his castle and of his land. He gave
to the rest what other goods he had, and kissed and embraced them
all, commended them to God, and then departed from them with a
heavy heart.

He had not travelled far when he entered a wood, and there met
with a hermit, who had long been retired from the world. Rinaldo
greeted him, and the hermit replied courteously, and asked him who
he was and what was his purpose. Rinaldo replied, "Sir, I have led
a sinful life; many deeds of violence have I done, and many men
have I slain, not always in a good cause, but often under the
impulse of my own headstrong passions. I have also been the cause
of the death of many of my friends, who took my part, not because
they thought me in the right, but only for love of me. And now I
come to make confession of all my sins, and to do penance for the
rest of my life, if perhaps the mercy of God will forgive me." The
hermit said, "Friend, I perceive you have fallen into great sins,
and have broken the commandments of God, but his mercy is greater
than your sins; and if you repent from your heart, and lead a new
life, there is yet hope for you that he will forgive you what is
past." So Rinaldo was comforted, and said, "Master, I will stay
with you, and what you bid ane I will do." The hermit replied,
"Roots and vegetables will be your food; shirt or shoes you may
not wear; your lot must be poverty and want if you stay with me."
Rinaldo replied, "I will cheerfully bear all this, and more." So
he remained three whole years with the hermit, and after that his
strength failed, and it seemed as if he was like to die.

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