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RAOUL OF CAMBRAI, AN OLD FRENCH EPIC Translated by Jessie Crosland (London: Chatto & Windus, 1926)
Revised with an Introduction by Richard Abels INTRODUCTION TO RAOUL OF CAMBRAI TEXT AND COMPOSITION OF THE POEM Raoul de Cambrai is one of the most violent and illuminating of the twelfth-century epic poems of chivalry known as the chansons de geste. The poem is preserved in a thirteenth-century manuscript, now in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris (BN fr. 2493), that consists of 8542 lines of poetry distributed over 150 folios. Two manuscript fragments of the poem, preserving different recensions of the tale, also survive. As it stands, BN fr. 2493 is a composite work. The first 5374 lines (Raoul I) are in verse, and the remainder (Raoul II) is in assonance, a substitute for rhyme in which the vowels are the same but the consonants differ. The character of the poem also abruptly changes with the shift in versification, going from a realistic tale of war and vengeance to a courtly romance. The most reasonable explanation for the change is that lines 5375 to 8542 represent a later continuation of the story. They are, in effect, a different poem. For historians Raoul I, with its brutally realistic depiction of warfare, politics, and feudal relations, is of far greater interest than Raoul II. Miss Crosland chose to translate only the former and I have not thought to challenge her decision. The scribe of Raoul I
wrote in an early thirteenth-century hand. He was copying, however, an
earlier, now lost, manuscript. We cannot be certain when the poem was
composed, and it is possible, maybe even probable, that Raoul I is
itself a composite piece that took form over the course of decades or
perhaps even centuries. The earliest reference to the story of the
intemperate Raoul occurs ca. 1150 in the Waulsort Chronicle. The tale as
related in the chronicle differs significantly from that told by the poet.
No mention is made, for example, of Raoul's disinheritance by the king. The
version that has come down was apparently composed between 1150 and
1186--when the Poitevin knight and troubador Bertrand de Born wrote a poem
with an allusion to it. Most scholars would place the date of composition in
the early 1180s and relate the poem to the rising discontent of the northern
French baronage against King Philip Augustus's attempts to impose his
authority over them. HISTORICAL CONTEXT The story of Raoul de Cambrai is historically rooted in two violent events from the early history of the northern French county of Vermandois: Raoul de Gouy's fatal war against the sons of Count Herbert in 943, an incident that occurred during the reign of the late West Frankish king Louis IV; and the burning of the abbey of Saint-Quentin by Raoul, son of Count Baldwin of Flanders, during his attack upon another Count Herbert of Vermandois in 896. (That second Raoul also was killed in battle.) But, as with the other chansons de geste, Raoul de Cambrai's chronological setting is incidental to the poet's real purpose, which was to entertain and provide moral instruction for a contemporary noble audience. Much like a 'John Wayne "Western,"' the poem is far less concerned with historical accuracy than with 'connecting' with its intended audience. Though it is set in a legendary past, the poem reflects the political conditions and aristocratic mores of northern France in the late twelfth century, a world in which the civilizing influences of Church, Monarchy, and Chivalry had only begun to tame the warrior nobility of the early Middle Ages. Unlike its more famous predecessor, the Song of Roland (ca. 1100), Raoul de Cambrai presents the reader with a baronial rather than royal point of view. The political universe of the poem, with its crafty King Louis, hot-headed nobles, and shifting alliances, mirrors the historical reality of the period of the poem's composition. The second half of the twelfth century was marked by the growth of royal power in northern France. Philip II (1180-1223) was a capable feudal king who increased his own power and authority at the expense of his great vassals, most notably King John of England, from whom he took Normandy and Anjou in 1204-1205. Philip's successes were to earn him the flattering sobriquet "Augustus." But the early years of his reign--when Raoul was probably composed--gave little indication of the king's future greatness. Though he may have been titled king of France and may have claimed to be the liege lord of all French nobles, Philip at his accession actually ruled little more than the Ile-de-France. The young king was surrounded by powerful counts and dukes, who, though technically his vassals, ruled their territories in virtual independence. (One of his vassals was Henry II of England, who held much of western France in his evarious capacities as count of Anjou, duke of Normandy, and count of Poitou and Aquitaine.) Royal diplomacy meant playing these overmighty barons off against one another. And at this game Philip excelled. He was, in the words of one contemporary, a ruler "skilled in strategems," who put down "the wicked of the realm by sowing discord among them."(1) In some ways Philip's most important tutor was his putative vassal Henry II of England, for Henry had managed to impose in his realm a royal "common law" based on the related legal ideas that all land derived from the Crown and that, consequently, the king was the liege lord of all landholders. Under Henry II the feudal polity began to resemble a consolidated state and the feudal ruler began to assume some of the attributes of a sovereign rather than a mere suzerain (overlord). Though Philip did not yet have the military power or administrative institutions necessary to do in France what Henry had done in England, his conception of royal authority differed little from that of his great Angevin vassal. The only way that the king
could increase his power was by increasing his revenues and military might,
and that meant adding lands to the royal domain. Here Philip Augustus's
marriage to Isabelle of Hainault proved useful, for it gave the king an
interest in the rich lands of Flanders and a claim to the counties of
Artois,
Hainault, and Vermandois (perhaps not coincidentally the battleground of the
poem). The king was not to make good on this claim, however, for another
decade. His goal in the 1180s was more modest: to keep the powerful count of
Flanders, who also claimed Vermandois and Hainault by marriage, from
gobbling these lands up. To do this Philip used a clever mixture of military
action and diplomacy that was meant to keep his barons from ever uniting
against him. Like the poem's "King Louis" and the his historical
contemporary Henry II, Philip pressed the Crown's feudal rights over
heiresses and fiefs. Though he claimed more than he could then make good
upon, he established a royal ideology that was to justify his later
successes and which was to shape royal-baronial relations for centuries to
come. The real world inhabited by the Raoul-poet, then, was not all
that dissimilar from that represented in the poem. The poem's audience would
have nodded in recognition when the poet sang about shifting alliances,
internecine warfare, and kings more interested in enhancing their power and
keeping their barons divided than in maintaining law and doing justice. THEMES AND ISSUES What made late twelfth-century politics even more complicated was that king and baron could not even agree on who owned any of these lands. And this brings us to the themes of Raoul. Raoul is the most "feudal" of the chansons; the poem is almost obsessively concerned with legal and moral issues arising from the possession of land and from the rival claims of kinship, kingship, and vassalage. What is a fief? the poet asks. Whose land is it? Lord and vassal alike could agree that a fief was a service tenement, land held by a vassal from a lord in return for homage and knight service. Both, moreover, would have acknowledged that, by custom, the eldest son of a baron had a presumptive right to enter into his deceased father's fief, after he had paid the lord a proper "relief" (monetary payment in recognition of the lord's rights over the fief) and performed homage and fealty to the lord. But here the consensus ended. King Henry II of England and King Philip Augustus insisted that the lands and counties held by their nobles ultimately were theirs to dispose of, royal gifts to reward the loyalty and service of the Crown's vassals. Ordinarily, kings would allow these fiefs to stay within families, but they also had the legal right to confiscate the lands if a vassal proved disloyal, to set the relief at whatever price the kings desired, and to dispose of heiresses and underage sons of royal vassals as they saw fit. The barons, on the other hand, preferred to think of their fiefs as hereditary tenures, landed endowments that inhered in their lineages. Even if they owed services and had to perform ceremonies for their fiefs, nevertheless, the land was theirs. (With a truly cavalier indifference to consistency, many of these counts claimed rights over their own estates that they were reluctant to concede to their own vassals.) In this dispute over the legal character of the fief, the Raoul-poet sides with his baronial patrons. The true culprit of the piece, thus, is not the hot-headed Raoul or his killer, Bernier, but the king who provoked a war when he "invested Raoul with another man's fief" In this respect, the poem may be read as an admonitory tale to rulers who would interfere with the "property rights" of their barons. In England in 1215 baronial fears and resentment against King John, a ruler much like the poem's King Louis, were to explode into the feudal uprising that gave birth to the Magna Carta. But Raoul is far more than a poetic treatise on property rights. It is also a tale of vengeance, vendetta, and betrayal in which the basic bonds of society--feudal loyalty, family, and friendship--come into conflict. The central dilemma in the poem has to do with loyalty. Bernier, the illegitimate son of Count Ybert of Ribemont, is the best household knight and closest friend of Raoul of Cambrai. He had been brought up as a foster son in the household of Lady Alice, Raoul's mother, and had been knighted by his lord Raoul. By the mores of the day, he owes his lord Raoul both love and loyalty. But Bernier's sense of obligation toward Raoul is tested when Raoul accepts King Louis's grant of the county of Vermandois, a fief that had once been held by Bernier's grandfather and which now belonged to his father and uncles. Compelled by his oath of fealty, Bernier reluctanty accompanies his lord in his invasion of Vermandois. Only after Raoul burns Bernier's mother to death during a brutal sack of the city of Origny and adds insult to injury by striking Bernier in public, does Bernier formally renounce his allegiance to Raoul and join his kinsmen against his former lord. In the ensuing battle Bernier slays Raoul. The remainder of the poem tells how Raoul's uncle Guerri the Red and his nephew Gautier pursue vengeance against Bernier, and how, in the end, the warring parties reconciled and forged an alliance against King Louis. The poet poses key questions for the feudal society to which he belongs: which is the higher duty, loyalty to a lord or obligation to one's family? how far may a lord push his vassal before that vassal may legitimately renounce his oath of loyalty? what powers and authority do kings legitimately possess? is nobility a matter of birth or of character? is bravery sufficient to make a knight chivalrous? The result is a moral puzzle which neither the poet or his heroes/anti-heroes, Raoul, Bernier, Guerri, and Gautier can fully resolve. Though the world of Raoul
is violent and brutal, the code of chivalry and courtliness (courtoise)
still informs the poem. Ironically, the importance of the courtly ethos is
underscored by the failure of the poem's main characters to adhere to its
strictures. Raoul de Cambrai is presented as a brave and resourceful knight.
Though we mainly see him breaking heads on the battlefield, we catch
glimpses of another Raoul, Raoul the royal courtier who plays chess
masterfully, who dresses elegantly, who is generous to his household
knights, and who has earned the love of a beautiful lady. But Raoul is a
hero with a fatal flaw--his lack of moderation. As in a Greek tragedy, the
horrors of the poem are the result of overweening pride and lack of
moderation. The poem, in essence, is a meditation upon the fragility of
chivalric society and the necessity of restraint. TRANSLATION. Jessie Crosland's 1926 translation of the poem, on the whole, accurately renders the poem and conveys well its brutality and power. My efforts at revision have mainly taken the form of ridding the translation of the archaisms that Miss Crosland used to underscore the poem's antiquity. The original language of the Raoul de Cambrai is anything but archaic, fussy, or even poetic. It is simple and direct, qualities that I have tried to restore in revising Miss Crosland's otherwise faithful translation. I have felt free to emend the translation in those few places where it fails to capture either the meaning of the flavor of the original. In making these changes I have consulted the translations of Sarah Kay and David and Patricia Herlihy, though my choices, ultimately, reflect my own reading of the text. Miss Crosland chose to
render the poem in prose, a very wise choice in my opinion. Raoul I
is composed in a regular meter of ten syllables, with all lines of a
laisse sharing the same rhyme. Versification of this source strains the
ingenuity of the English translator to find matching rhymes while remaining
faithful to the literal meaning of the the text. A verse translation of the
first laisse might read something along the lines of: Listen to a tale of joy and good cheer! Many--if not most--of those gathered here Have heard new chansons from other trouveres. But this flower they've missed, so lend me an ear: I sing of great barons, untainted by fear, Of the lord of Cambrai, Raoul Taillefer, For fierce pride he was known both far and near. He had one son, as I soon shall make clear; Raoul was his name, a great chevalier, Against Herbert's sons he brought fire and spear, 'Til Bernier killed him, as
you will now hear. (Oiez chançon de joie et de baudor! Oït avés auquant et li plusor --chantet vos ont cill autre jogleors-- chançon novelle, mais il laissent la flor, de grant barniage qui tant ot de valor: c'est de Raoul--de Canbrai tint l'onour-- Taillefer fu clamés par sa fierour. Cis ot un fil qui fu bon poingneor, Raoul ot non, molt par avoit vigor; as fils Herbert fist maint pesant estor, mais Berneçons l'ocit puis a
dolor.) A translator must always wrestle between preserving the artistic impact of the work and its literal meaning. In the case of Raoul, which even its advocates could not claim as a great work of art, the choice is relatively easy. Finally, I would like to
thank LCDR Douglas Meister, USN (ret) for his aid in preparing the text and
for his encouragement in the project. Not only did Doug scan Miss Crosland's
entire translation into the computer, but his not so veiled threats kept me
on schedule despite my natural tendency to procrastinate. BRIEF BIBLIOGRAPHY Texts and translations
Raoul de Cambrai,
edited with a translation, and notes by Sarah Kay. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1992. Dr. Kay provides a full text of the poem, an excellent translation,
and an informative introduction. "Fiefs, feuds, and justice
in Raoul of Cambrai." Trans. David and Patricia Herlihy. In
History of Feudalism. Ed. David Herlihy. New Jersey: Humanities, 1970.
Herlihy translates a well chosen 60 stanzas of Raoul I's 249 stanzas
in this collection of sources on feudalism. Background Baldwin, John. The Government of Philip Augustus; Foundations of French Royal Power in the Middle Ages. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1986. Bloch, Marc. Feudal Society. Trans. L. A. Manyon. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1961. Matarasso, P. Recherches historiques et littéraires sur Raoul de Cambrai. Paris, 1962. Painter, Sidney. French Chivalry Chivalric Ideas and Practices in Mediaeval France. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1940. Poly, Jean-Pierre, and
Bournazel, Eric. The Feudal Transformation, 900-1200. Trans. Caroline
Higgitt. New York and London: Holmes and Meier, 1991. MAIN CHARACTERS
Raoul de Cambrai.
Son of Raoul Taillefer, count of Cambrai, and Lady Alice; nephew of King
Louis and nephew of Guerri the Red. Disinherited by King Louis and invested
with the fief of Vermandois by the king. Lord of the household knight
Bernier. Bernier.
Bastard son of Ybert of Ribemont (Ybert is one of the sons of Count Herbert
of Vermandois) and the Lady Marsent. Household knight and close companion of
Raoul. Raoul's attack upon the lands of Bernier's father and uncles provides
the dramatic core of the poem. King Louis.
Emperor of the Franks/King of France. Historically, this is Louis IV, king
of the West Franks (936-954). The poet uses Louis as the exemplar for a weak
and treacherous king. Guerri the Red.
Count of Arras; brother of Raoul Taillefer and uncle and vassal of Raoul de
Cambrai. Raoul's most important and powerful supporter. Lady Alice.
Mother of Raoul; widow of Raoul Taillefer. Strong-willed and beautiful
sister of King Louis, whose refusal to marry the household knight Gibouin
of Le Mans results in the disinheritance of her son. Marsent.
Mother of Bernier, concubine of Ybert of Ribemont. By the time of the poem's
action, Marcent has become abbess of the nunnery at Origny. Gautier.
Raoul de Cambrai's young cousin (the son of Lady Alice's sister) and his
would-be avenger.
Ybert,
Ernaut of Douai,
Wedon, Louis. The sons of Count Herbert of Vermandois. King
Louis's transfer of the fief of Vermandois from them to Raoul of Cambrai
provides the backdrop for Raoul's conflict with Bernier. RAOUL of CAMBRAI (Trans. Jessie Crosland.
Raoul de Cambrai, An Old French Epic. London: Windus & Chatto, 1926.
Revised by Richard Abels, USNA 1993.) §1 Listen to a song of joy and merriment. Some of you, no, most of you have heard new tales sung by other minstrels, but they have neglected the flower of them all, one about a a baronial family of great valor. That is the song of Raoul, lord of Cambrai; Taillefer he was called on account of his pride. He had one son who became a good warrior: he too was called Raoul, a man of much strength. Many a dire battle he fought against the sons of Herbert; but then young Bernier slew him most painfully. §2 It is not right to leave this tale untold. Make less noise and listen to the song of Guerri the Red, of the lady Alice and of Raoul, lord of Cambrai. The bishop of Beauvais was his godfather. Raoul waged such warfare against the sons of Herbert as you shall hear presently in my song. §3 This Raoul Taillefer, of whom I am telling you, was a very noble and brave-hearted man. He served the emperor of France so well that the emperor rewarded his services and invested him with Cambrai as his rightful fief, and a wife so beautiful none fairer was ever seen. All his kinsmen and friends rejoiced, and anyone can tell you about the wedding which took place at the court of the great King Louis. After this he lived till his hair was white, and when it was God's will he died. But the lady Alice, so noble and fair of face, mourned greatly for him: such grief was never heard before. And the barons buried him; in the church of St. Geri they laid him to rest. It was by this baron, I tell you truthfully, that the lady Alice was with child. §4 They buried the brave knight--that is Taillefer of whom I have been telling you. The gentle lady of gentle heart was pregnant with child. As long as God willed she carried the child, and much was the rejoicing of all those of the land, both knights and men-at-arms, at his birth. Many a one rejoiced, I know full well, who were later to have sad and grief-filled hearts on his account. Then the noble lady took the child and wrapped him in a fine and costly cloth, and straightaway called two knights---one they say was Thibaut, the other, I know, was Acelin. "Barons," said she, "for God's sake, come here; ride straight to Beauvais for me, make full speed." §5 Lady Alice was not faint-hearted. She laid her son in a costly purple cloth; then she called two barons of noble lineage: "Straight to Beauvais you will go for me in the morning, to my cousin, Lord Gui the bishop." Then they left her, and small delay they made. They did not stop till they reached Beauvais, and they found the bishop in his marble palace. He was the brother of Geoffroy of Lavardin. §6 The two messengers go up to the palace and they carry the infant whom they hold so dear. They find the worthy bishop and salute him in proper fashion: "Our worthy lady Alice, wife of the warrior Raoul Taillefer, prays God, the Judge of all, to save and protect the holy bishop. The count is dead, and we cannot bring him back. But his lady has an heir by him; through us she sends him here out of love for him, for from his lineage she does not wish him to be estranged." The bishop listened; then he crossed himself and thanked God Almighty and said: "Noble countess, may God be your councillor! For my part, I will not delay in this matter." So he had the font made ready in the church and the holy oil and chrism to anoint the child, and he put on his robes to perform his office. §7 The noble bishop came to the chapel to baptize the child who is his close relation; for the sake of his father, the marquis Taillefer, he gave him the name of Raoul of Cambrai. Then without delay he clothed him as befits his rank, and a nurse, fair of face and clad in rich apparel, took the child. On the next day the messengers took leave and returned to [Cambrai], where Guerri the Red was. They went up to the great hall, where there was no fun or laughter. But the child was petted and cherished and gently nourished by his nurse. Years and months and days passed: more than three years, so the record tells us. §8 Lady Alice was not faint-hearted. You shall now hear of the sorrow and conflict and of the great endless war. The King of France had a noble youth in his service whom the French called Gibouin of Le Mans. He served the king with his good sword, and made many an orphan in the course of his wars. He served our noble king so well and in such knightly fashion that he was entitled to a full reward. Those from beyond the Rhine counselled that he should be given the fief of Cambrai which was held by Alice, conqueror of men's hearts, of the family of Geoffroy of Lavardin. Now, if God who turned the water into wine does not prevent it, a fief will be given and a promise made which will be the cause of many a knight lying sprawled on the ground dead. §9 Our emperor listened to the barons talking and advising him to give the fair Alice to the baron of Le Mans who had served him so well. He took their counsel, for which he is to be blamed; he gave the glove to Gibouin, who thanked him for it and stooped and kissed his shoe. Then said the King of France: Gibouin, my brother, I deserve your thanks, for it is a great gift that I give you here. But on one condition I grant it: I wish not to disinherit the boy Raoul. He is yet young, now protect him well until such time that he can carry arms. He shall hold Cambrai; no one can refuse it to him and I shall give you some other land." Gibouin said, "I shall not refuse, but arrange for me to marry the lady." But he acted like a fool in daring to expect this, for it afterwards caused the overthrow of many noble men. The gentle lady fair of countenance would not accept him even if they hacked off her limbs for it. §10 King Louis did a very foolish thing when he took the heritage away from his nephew; and Gibouin on his side did a great outrage when he desired the land of another for his baronage. It caused him afterwards to die a shameful death. Then the emperor called his messenger: "Go, saddle the Carthaginian steed, and ride straight to Cambrai, my sister's rich inheritance; tell my fair sister that she is to take the brave Gibouin of Le Mans to be her husband. Between here and Carthage there is not such a knight to be found. I am giving him all the land as a fief. Tell her to come without delay to my court and bring her escort with her, and I will summon many of my kinsmen. But if she fails me because of her pride, she will have only her dowry for her household's support; over no other lands shall she enjoy legal rights or draw revenues." §11 The messenger took his
leave. He saddles his horse and mounts it; then he left Paris and rode
straight for Cambrai. He entered the city by the main gate and halted by the
great abbey of St. Geri. He found the noble lady in the square with several
knights in her company. He reined in his horse and dismounted, and greeted
the lady in the king's name: "The king, our protector, prays God who created
heaven and earth and all things in them by his command save the countess and
all those she loves." "May God the Creator protect you, brother. Tell me the
king's bidding and conceal nothing." "In God's name, lady, I will tell you.
The king's message is that he will give you Gibouin for a husband. Know,
lady, that is what the king commands." Lady Alice sank down to the earth,
tears fell from her eyes and she gave a deep sigh. Then she called her
counsellors. "Ah, God!" said she, "Here is an evil message. [At this point there is a gap in the main manuscript. One of the two surviving manuscript fragments allows us to fill in the blank in the narrative: Lady Alice declares the king mad to have invested Gibouin with her fief and vows that: "King Louis will return Cambrai to my son on the day that he becomes and knight and can receive justice and judgment from a court." King Louis then informs
Guerri the Red, count of Arras and brother of the dead Raoul Taillefer, that
he has invested Gibouin with the fief of Cambrésis. Guerri tells him that he
will fight to prevent it, and the king reminds him that the child Raoul is
but three years old.] §14 "Just Emperor," said the baron Guerri, "Are you minded to disinherit your nephew because as yet he can neither walk nor ride? By the faith that I owe you, you shall see a thousand knights overturned before this knight of Le Mans can get help from them. Just Emperor, I declare to you that if he lets himself be seen in the Cambrésis he may be certain of losing his head. And you too, foolish king, deserve blame for this. The child is your nephew, and you should never have thought of such a thing." But the king replied "Let all this be. The gift is given and I cannot go back on it now." So Guerri departed, for he had no desire to remain. Evil was to come from the way he took leave. The good steeds were ready at the foot of the steps and the barons mounted. And Guerri cried at the top of his voice, "Now make ready, you young warriors who desire hard knocks! For I swear by Him who allowed himself to suffer, I would rather have my limbs hacked off than fail my nephew as long as I live." §15 Guerri the Red was full of anger. He returned to Cambrai and dismounted in the sqaure. Lady Alice saw the knight coming and spoke to him as you may now hear, "Sir Guerri, without fail now, will you tell me the truth?" "Lady," said he, "I wish not to lie to you. The king is determined to seize your heritage for Gibouin, God curse him. Take him for your husband, for only so can you make your peace with Louis, the ruler of France." "God!" said the lady, "I could die of grief! I would rather be burnt alive than that the king should force a greyhound to lie with a watchdog. God will allow me to bring up my child till such time as he can carry arms." Then said Guerri: "Lady, a blessing on you for daring to say it; I will not desert you in your great need." §16 Guerri the stout-hearted speaks again: "Lady Alice, I swear by God the Redeemer that I will not fail you as long as I live. Where is my nephew? Bring him here, I pray you." Up rose two young lords and brought the child to the forecourt. He was three years old, I tell you for a fact, and he was dressed in bright silk with a tunic of crimson cloth. A more beautiful child could not be found. Guerri takes him in his arms at once and sighs deeply from his heart. "Child," said he, "you are scarce grown yet, and the knight of Le Mans has evil intent towards you, since he deprives you of your land." "Uncle," said the child, "I shall get it back, if I live long enough to carry arms seated on my charger." "Truly," said Guerri, "you shall not lose a foot of it, unless twenty thousand warriors die for it first." Then the knights call for water [to wash with] and seat themselves at the tables. §17 Lady Alice and the vassal Guerri and the barons are seated at the tables. The seneschals have done their duty well, for they have been well trained to serve. After the meal the fair lady gives costly garments to the barons. Then the powerful Guerri takes his leave; he kisses the lady and departs. Straight to Arras he goes at full speed. After this many years and days passed and there was no sound of war or of discord in the land. When Raoul of Cambrai was fifteen years old he was an exceedingly courteous and noble youth and greatly beloved by his men and his marquises. §18 Fifteen years have now passed and gone and Lady Alice sees her son tall and broad and well formed. There was a nobleman in that kingdom, Ybert by name, a man of dauntless spirit. He had a son who was christened Bernier when he was small. He was grown now and well-favored, and at fifteen years he too was both tall and strong. Count Raoul loved him dearly, and Lady Alice out of goodness of heart had fostered him from an early age. Together they went to Paris to acquaint themselves with noble knighthood, and he waited on Raoul with the wine and the spiced cup. Better had it been, I can tell you, had Bernier's head been severed from his body, for grievously and shamefully he slew his lord in the end. §19 Count Raoul of handsome face was extraordinarily fond of young Bernier, the son of Ybert of Ribemont. There was no handsomer boy in any land, nor any that knew better the use of shield and spear, nor of wise speech in a king's court, even though he was called a bastard. Handsome Raoul loved him and gladly made him his squire, but strange companions they proved to be. §20 Lady Alice has watched
her son grow up and now she sees that he is fit to bear arms, and thus she
addressed him as you may hear: "Call the ban and summon your men, so that
you may see them assembled at Cambrai, and we shall soon see who is
reluctant to serve." Raoul summoned them and spoke his mind to them: "You
must not fail me when I need you." [Gap in the manuscript of
about 60 lines. Raoul goes to the king and asks to be knighted by him].
§22 The emperor has knighted the boy and now he calls his seneschals and says: "Bring to me the arms, for so I bid you".... Then the emperor spoke to his nephew: "Nephew Raoul, I see that you have grown up tall and strong, thanks be to God, the Father omnipotent." §23 Our emperor loved the boy very dearly and he gave him the helmet of a Saracen whom Roland had slain on the river Rhine. He placed it over the bonnet of his hauberk of double thickness, then he said to him "Cousin, this bright helmet belonged to a Saracen, no arm can do it the slightest injury. May you receive the gift of faith from Him who turned the water into wine and presided over the wedding of St. Archedeclin." And Raoul spoke, "I accept it and give you this guarantee: your enemies shall have a dangerous neighbor in me; no rest from warfare will they have, by day or by night." The nose-piece of the helmet was of pure gold and there was a precious stone set in the middle of it by which one could see one's path even on the darkest night. §24 Then the king girded him with a strong sword. Its pommel and hilt were of gold and it was forged in a gloomy valley by Galant, who had put into it of his best. Except [Roland's sword] Durendal, which was the choicest blade of all, this sword was better than all others and no armor or weapon in the world could stand against it. Such were the arms which became him. For Raoul was handsome and of noble form. If within him there would have been but a little restraint, there would have been no better vassal than he. But because of his excess the outcome was grievous, for an unbridled man passes his days in sorrow. Then the king gave him his swift battle-horse; the saddle both back and front was of gold, and there were beasts carved on it, splendid to look upon, wrought in various styles. This saddle was covered with costly buckram and over this another cover of rich oriental silk the flaps of which hung down to the ground. Raoul proudly leaped on it and seized the golden shield. There were bands of gold round the boss, and it is proof against both sword and lance. Then he seized the lance of shining gold, its sweeping pennon fixed with five nails, and charged forward like a man who knows how to ride; and when he stopped his horse he reined him in with such skill that it did not carry him even a glove's breadth too far. The Frenchmen said: "What a handsome youth he is! He will soon regain his father's land." And many a one rejoiced who was afterwards filled with grief, as you will hear if I have leisure to sing. §26 Raoul of Cambrai was knighted, and for a space there were no further happenings. Our brave emperor kept him by him as his good friend and made him seneschal of France, as you have heard. And now there is not a baron from here to Ponthieu who does not send him his son or his foster-child, or his nephew or cousin, and Raoul loved and cherished them like a gentle knight, and kept them in his service, and clothed them and gave them many a good Arab steed. All his enemies grieved greatly at this, especially the knight of Le Mans who had received the ill-fated gift of Cambrai. Raoul was valiant and hated him from his heart; later on it was the counsel of the powerful Guerri the Red which stirred up such strife and warfare as led to the death and downfall of many a baron. §27 A long time passed again before the day of which I am going to tell you. It was on an Easter day, which one ought to hold sacred though one may rejoice the day after, that the baron Raoul went out of the church of St. Denis where he had gone to worship. In the spacious forecourt the knights were beginning to play at fencing to amuse themselves, but their sport turned at last to real combat and their game to anger, and the two sons of Ernaut, the praiseworthy lord of Douai, were done to death. §28 When these two boys, the sons of Ernaut, marquis of Douai, were killed, the blame fell on Raoul, for all the barons of the land said that Raoul killed them both. Count Ernaut will always be his enemy now until such time as his vengeance be sated. This was years and days after--I know not how long--and if God who hung on the cross gives him no thought, then Raoul of Cambrai will suffer much for his deed! Guerri the Red was greatly troubled about it, and with good cause, for the old man later had reason to regret it: the death of these two boys brought him many enemies. §29 There was much mourning when the two boys were buried. But at the feast of Pentecost King Louis held his high court as was his custom, and he called Raoul, whom he greatly loved, and said to him, "Fair nephew, I wish you to serve me with the spiced wine at dinner today." "Sire," replied Raoul, "I ought not to refuse; I am your vassal and must obey you." It was young Bernier who had the wine in his charge, and the noble knights were served so plentifully that they have no reason for reproach. On the next day the praiseworthy Count Raoul knighted Bernier and invested him with the best arms on which he could lay hands. He put a strong well burnished hauberk on his back and laced a golden helmet on his head. Then he girded the sword with which he was knighted to his side and Bernier straightaway mounted his good warhorse. §30 As soon as Bernier was mounted on his horse every one could see what a good knight he had become. He seized his gold banded shield and held the sharp lance with its pennon fastened by five golden nails in his hand. Then he charged forward on his horse and returned to his place again. There were many knights in the square and they said one to another: "How well he looks in his arms. Even if he is the son of an unwed mother, he must still be of rich and noble birth." And Raoul said: "God be thanked! I do not regret, I assure you, the arms that I gave him. He ought to gain great honor amongst his friends." But he was a cause of grief and anger to Raoul in the end, as you shall hear me tell. "Sir Bernier," said the wise Raoul, "you shall strike a blow at the quintain for my sake, and in order that King Louis, the seasoned warrior, may see." And Bernier replied: "I will do it at your bidding. The first request you make of me shall not be refused, so help me God." So out in the meadows they made a quintain of two shields and two gilded hauberks, and the youth Bernier called out to a nobleman of great wealth who was there: "Sir Berant, hear me. Guide me to the dummy, if you be willing." And Berant replied, "Willingly and gladly I do it." So with Berant guiding, Bernier charged forward and such great blows he gave to the quintain as you will never see a bastard give again. He pierced both the shields and tore open and spoiled both the hauberks. One of the stakes too was split and pierced through, for his lance passed right through the middle of it. So Bernier performed his feat of arms and returned; on all sides he was greatly praised, and many ladies both saw and took note of him. §31 Young Bernier had performed his feat and was back again amongst the barons. He was fair and well formed, both graceful and tall. He dismounts from his horse, his spurs still on his feet, and kneels down beside Raoul "Sire," said he, "a great favor I ask; I am your liegeman, and, by St. Simon, never shall my heirs be reproached with any treason committed by me. But I pray, in God's name, that you will not make war against the sons of Herbert." Raoul listened, the words made him sad and downcast. He went to the house with some of his comrades--so many princes that I know not even their names. Up to the palace they go in their ermine cloaks, and white-bearded Guerri took takes the floor: for the great service Raoul rendered Guerri now claims for him a reward which will empty the saddle of many a noble steed. §32 The white-bearded Guerri speaks "By my faith, sire, I will not lie to you. My nephew has served you now for a long time and he will get nothing from his friends if you do not recompense his services. Restore to him least the fief of Cambrésis, the land of the hardy knight Taillefer." "It is not in my power," replied the king; "the knight of Le Mans has it with my glove as pledge. This arrangement grieves my heart; many a time have I repented of it since, but it was done on the advice of my barons." Then said Then said the red knight, "This is ill treatment. I challenge it, by St. Geri!" Quickly he strode forth from the room and came to the palace in an evil humor. Raoul of Cambrai was playing chess like a man who expects no evil tidings. Guerri saw him there and seized him by the arm with such force that he tore his fur mantle. "Son of a whore," he called to him, but the words were false, "miserable coward, what are you doing playing here? I tell you for a fact, you haven't enough land of your own to rub down an old pack horse on." Raoul heard these words and sprang to his feet; he spoke so loudly that the palace resounded, and many a noble knight in the hall heard him as he cried, "Who takes it from me? I think him very foolhardy." Guerri replied: "The king himself. How he must hold you in disgrace, he who ought to be upholding us and warranting your land!" Raoul heard his words, and all his blood boiled. Two knights brought up at his father's court heard the noise and the clamor and placed themselves at his disposal straightway; and Bernier served them all with wine. Full speed they came before the king and their words did not fall to the ground. Raoul spoke with Guerri the Red standing at his side. §33 Raoul, full of anger, spoke thus: "Just emperor, by St. Amant I swear that I have served you ever since I carried arms and you have never given me as much as a bezant [i.e., penny] for it. Now at least give me the glove as a pledge that I may hold my own land as my valiant father held it before me." "I cannot grant it," replied the king; "I have given it to the knight of Le Mans, and for all the wealth of Milan I would not take it from him." Guerri listened, then he shouted: "I will fight for it first, armed and on horseback, against that mercenary Gibouin of Le Mans." Guerri called Raoul a coward and a recreant. "By the apostle whom the penitents seek, if now you do not take possession of your land, this very day or tomorrow before the sun sets, neither I nor any of my men will ever aid you again." What Raoul now said, the words from which he would never retreat, would cause the bloody death of many a baron: "Just emperor, I tell you all this. First, everyone knows that the land of the father ought by right to pass to the child. By St. Amant, everyone, both small and great, will heap scorn upon me, if I do nothing about the shame of another man holding my land. By God who made the firmament, if ever I find that mercenary of Le Mans, no ordinary death shall he die by my sword." The king was heavy at heart when he heard these words. §34 The knight of Le Mans was sitting at a table in the palace. He heard these threats and was filled with fear. He put on his cloak of ermine and came to the king: "Just emperor," said he, "now am I in a sorry plight. You gave me Cambrésis, near Artois; and now you cannot guarantee the possession of it to me. Here now is this arrogant Count Raoul with his fine armor and weapons (he is your nephew, as the Frenchmen know well), and Guerri the Red, his loyal friend. I have no friend so good in all this land who would be worth anything to me against these two. I have served you long with my Viennese blade, and never have I obtained as much as a penny for it. I shall go forth on my good Norwegian steed poorer than I came, and the Alemans and the Germans, the men of Burgundy, of Normandy and France will all talk of it, that all my service will not have earned me a penny." Sorrow filled the heart of King Louis. He beckoned Raoul to him with his embroidered glove and said: "Fair nephew, by God, the giver of laws, I pray you let him hold it for another two or three years on such terms as I will tell you: if any count dies between here and Vermandois, or between Aix-la-Chapelle and Senlis, or from Monloon to Orleans, you shall inherit the rights and the land. You shall not lose a fraction of a penny by the exchange." Raoul listened and did not hesitate: at the advice of Guerri of Artois he accepted the pledge---it was by reason of it that he lay cold in death at last. §35 Count Raoul called Guerri to speak of the matter. "Uncle," said he, "I regard you as my friend. I will accept this gift, you will not be let down." For his father's fief he began a great conflict that was to be fatal to many a baron in the end. Then they demanded hostages from King Louis; and the king listened to bad advice and allowed Raoul to choose them from some of the highest-born in the land. Forty hostages swore and pledged their word to them, but they were bitterly to regret it. Lohier the king gave them, and Anceis; Gociaume was amongst them and Gerard and Gerin, Herbert of the Maine and Geoffroy of Anjou, Henry of Troyes and the young Gerard who held Senlis on the Beauvoisin side. Together with them the king gave them Galeran and Gaudin and then Berart, who held Quercy as his fief. Count Raoul acted in no ignoble fashion; he brought the sacred objects to the marble palace---precious relics of St. Firmin, St. Peter and St. Augustine, and the king swore without the aid of any priest that, when the time came, he would give him the possessions of the first count who should die between the Loire and the Rhine. §36 Furthermore the king gave him Oliver and Poncon, Garnier and Poncon, and then in addition Amaury and Droon, Richer the aged and Foucon, Berenger and his uncle Samson. These were the hostages that the king gave to Raoul. In the castle, in the king's presence, they took an oath that they would support the other hostages and stand surety that if any count should die from Orleans to Soissons, from Monloon to Aix-la-Chapelle, Raoul should have his lands forthwith. Raoul was in the right, we can truly say, but the emperor acted like a felon when he granted to his nephew such land as would cause so many knights to lose their lives. Raoul was wise, we tell you truly to demand hostages in abundance. §37 Forty hostages the emperor gives him and Guerri the Red musters them and calls them by name. There was Gerin of Aussois and Huon of Hantone, Richard of Reims and Simon of Péronne, Droon of Meaux and Savary of Verona, Estout of Langres and Wedon of Bourbonne. This last held all Burgundy as his fief and there was not such another knight from here to Spain. They swore on saints' relics that they would seek no excuse, and the king himself swore by his crown that not for any man would Raoul lose even as much as an apple. §38 The emperor delivered forty hostages to Raoul in the presence of all, and on such conditions that I will tell you: that, whomever it may grieve, he would render to Raoul the land of any count who dies in Vermandois or in France, and that he shall not be the loser of so much as a lance point thereby. But it all came to nothing through his own recklessness---many a noble man was to be brought to grief and the lives of all the hostages put in danger. §39 Hostages he had now; as many as he wanted, and for some time things remained thus---for a year and a fifteen days, to my knowledge. Raoul returned to Cambrai, and during the time of which I have been speaking, Herbert, a powerful count, died; he was a loyal man and wise and had a great many friends. All Vermandois was his territory, also Roie, Péronne, Origny, Ribemont, St Quentin and Clairy. A man born with so many friends is fortunate indeed! Raoul heard of his death and bestirred himself. He quickly mounted his steed and summoned those who had pledged themselves in this matter. His uncle Guerri the Red of Arras accompanied him and with them rode a hundred and forty men all finely clothed in fur. He rode straight without stopping to demand from King Louis the fatal gift. Raoul was in his right, as I have told you, and it was the king of St. Denis who was in the wrong. When the king is bad many a loyal man suffers for it. The barons arrived at the court at Paris and dismounted beneath the olive trees. Then they went up the palace steps and demanded to see the king. They found King Louis sitting upon his throne; he looked and saw all these nobles coming, headed by the eager Raoul. "Salutations to the great king Louis," said he, "on behalf of God who suffered on the cross." The emperor replied slowly: "May God, who made paradise, protect you, nephew!" §40 Raoul, the noble baron, spoke: "Just emperor. I desire to speak only to you; I am your nephew and you must not act unfairly towards me. I have heard of the death of Herbert, who used to hold and protect Vermandois. Now invest me at once with his land, for thus you swore that you would do, and you pledged it to me by hostages." "I cannot, nephew," said the noble Louis. "This noble count of whom you speaks has four praise-worthy sons, than whom no better knights can be found. If now I handed their land over to you, every right-minded person would blame me for it and I could not summon them to my court, for they would refuse to serve or honor me. Besides, I tell you, I have no desire to disinherit them I do not wish to vex four men on account of one." Raoul listened and thought he would go mad. He cannot think, he is so enraged, but he turns away in a fury and does not stop till lie reaches his palace and finds the hostages waiting there, whereupon he calls them to him upon their oath. §41 Count Raoul was very angry. He called upon Droon and Geoffroy the bold of Anjou, who was much dismayed at the news, Herbert of the Maine and Gerard and Henry, Samson and the aged Bernard. "Come forward, barons, I pray you, as you have pledged and sworn to do. Tomorrow at daybreak I summon you upon your oath to my castle and, by St. Geri, you will be filled with despair." Geoffroy shuddered when he heard these words and said, "Friend, why do you alarm me thus?" "I will tell you," replied Raoul. "Herbert who owned Origny and St. Quentin, Péronne and Clairy, Ham and Roie, Nesle and Falvéy, is dead. Do you think that I have been invested with this rich fief? I tell you no, for the emperor has failed towards me completely." And the barons all replied: "Give us time: for we will go to Louis and learn from his own lips how he means to protect us." "I grant it, by my faith," said Raoul, and Bernier goes to the palace and all the hostages go straightway to the king. Geoffroy speaks first and implores the mercy of the king: "Just emperor, we are in an evil plight, why has you given us as hostages to this devil, the greatest felon that ever wore a hauberk? Herbert, the best of barons, is dead, and Raoul wishes to be invested with the whole of his fief." §42 Geoffroy the bold spoke again: "Just emperor, you committed great folly when you gave your nephew such a heritage, and the rights and title to some one else's land. Count Herbert is dead who conducted himself as a great baron. Raoul is in the right; the outrage is yours. You will have to invest him with it---we are the hostages to your promise." "God," said the king, "it nearly makes me mad to think that four men should lose their heritage on account of one! By the one who caused the statue to speak, I swear this gift will turn out to be his undoing. Unless this is resolved by some marriage settlement, there will be grief in many a noble home." §43 The king speaks, and he is sad at heart: "Come here, fair nephew Raoul. I give you the glove, but the land is yours on such terms as I shall tell you: namely, that neither I nor my men will act as guarantors." "I ask for nothing better," Raoul replies. But Bernier heard his words and leapt up, and he speaks out so that all can hear: "The sons of Herbert are valiant knights, rich and possessed of many friends and never will they suffer any loss through you." The Frenchmen in the palace, both old and young, talk of the matter, and they say: "The boy Raoul has the mind of a man. He is demanding a fair exchange for his father's land. The king is stirring up a great war which will bring a sad heart to many a fair lady." §44 Bernier, who does not lack courage, speaks out loudly again: "Just emperor, consider, is there not foolishness in all this? The sons of Herbert have done no wrong, and they should not be misjudged in your court. Why do you surrender their land like this? May the Lord God not forgive them if they defend not their lands against Raoul!" "So be it," said the king straightaway; "since against my will he has accepted the gift, never shall the pennon be fixed upon my lance on his behalf." §45 Bernier speaks to Raoul of Cambrai: "I am your man, I don't deny it, but for my part I will never advise you to seize their lands, for I know that Ernaut of Douai alone has fifty followers and there are no such warriors in all the land. Settle this matter lawfully before any wrong is committed. If they have wronged you, I will make amends for them. I will stand surety for them out of my love for you." "By my faith," replied Raoul, "I will not think of it. The grant is made and I will not give it up at any price." Said Bernier: "Then, my lord, I will say no more until such time as I see their strong defence." §46 Raoul sees that his affair has gone well; the gift has been allotted to him in the high court and Louis has not prevented it. But Bernier can scarce refrain from tearing his hair. So Raoul returns to his lodgings. He mounts his horse and summons his men for the homeward journey and leaves Paris without any further disturbances. §47 Raoul departs and returns to Cambrai at full speed and the barons dismount before their lodgings. But young Bernier bowed his head. He had made the mistake of quarrelling with Raoul and now he will sleep first before he drinks anything or goes up to the palace or the tower, for he wishes to have no words of anger with his lady. Count Raoul dismounted before the steps of the palace and the fair lady Alice kissed her son on the mouth and on the cheek. §48 Lady Alice kissed and made much of her son Raoul; she took the noble baron by the hand and together they entered their ancestral hall. Then the lady spoke to him in the hearing of many barons: "Fair son," said she, "you are tall and well-grown; you are seneschal of France, thanks be to God. But I am much amazed at King Louis; you have served him for a long time now and he has not recompensed your service in any way. He ought to give you now of his own free will all the land of Taillefer the bold, your own father and my husband. The knight of Le Mans has had possession of it too long. I am amazed that you have consented to it for so long, and have neither killed him nor brought dishonor upon him." Then Raoul felt uneasy in his mind and he said: "Be not hard on me, lady, for God's sake, who never lies; Louis has rewarded my services. Count Herbert has died---we know this now for certain---and I have received the gift of all his land." The lady sighed when she heard his words. "Fair son," said she, "I have watched over you many a year and these are my words. He who has given you Péronne and Origny, St. Quentin, Nesle and Falévy, Ham and Roie and the tower of Clairy, has invested you with a deadly gift, my son. I implore you, for God's sake, let their land be. Raoul your father and Count Herbert were always friends. Many a battle they fought together and never was there any disagreement or dispute between them. If you heed my words, by the Saints of Ponthieu, let his sons have no disagreement or dispute with you." But Raoul replied: "I will not abandon it thus. Every one would say that I was afraid, and my heirs would be disgraced for ever." §49 "Dear son Raoul," said the fair Alice, "I nourished you with the milk of my own breast. Why do you give me such a pain now beneath my heart? He who gave you Péronne and the country round about, and Ham and Roie and the fortress of Nesle, invested you, my son, with a fatal gift. Anyone who stirs up war against those people need have many a well equipped steed and a great following of vassals. I tell you, rather than see you do it, I would be a waiting-maid, or a veiled nun in a nunnery. All my land will be set on fire by this war." Raoul grabbed his jaw with his hand and swore by God who was born of a virgin that for all the gold of Toledo he would not give up his fief until many entrails had been strewn and many a brain scattered. §50 Lady Alice had no deceit in her looks; she was clothed in an ermine cloak. Speaking to her son, she continued to voice her disagreement: "Raoul, my son, if you plan to do this, you must summon the barons of Arrouaise." "By all means, lady; but if they refuse to come, by the faith that I owe St. Hilary, if God grant that I return alive, I will blind, mutilate and hang upon gallows like thieves so many of them that all the rest will have enough to howl about." "God," said the lady, "I see no hope at all. [I assume that ] Guerri the Red shall be the provost and leader in this enterprise." §51 "Fair son Raoul," said the noble lady, "stir not up war for such an evil cause. The sons of Herbert are very good knights; they have many possessions and many devoted friends. My son, never destroy either church or chapel, and for God's sake, do not slaughter the poor. My son, don't lie to me, how many men can you raise to begin this war?" "Around ten thousand, lady, to that I can swear, and Guerri the Red shall be my standard bearer. The men of Arrouaise will not dare to remain behind, however little they wish to come." "Alas! "the countess replied, "it is an evil undertaking!" §52 "Before God," said the lady. "I cannot deny that Guerri is both valiant and prudent and of a warlike spirit. He would surely carry your standard well and speedily subdue the land. But the men of Arrouaise are mean and cowardly; if there is booty to be gained of sheep or oxen, they will seem as fierce as lions, but when battle is joined we shall hear other news, for the scoundrels will take to flight at the first blow. Then the danger will be great for you in the battle, for the sons of Herbert are not stupid yokels---when they see you alone there without your companions, they will cut your head off from your neck. And as for me, my son, I swear by St. Simon that I shall die of grief, and nothing can save me." Then said Raoul: "Your words are in vain; for I swear by God that, for all the gold of Avalon, I would not refrain from going, now that I've accepted the gift." §53 "Fair son Raoul, I tell you for certain that those men of Arrouaise are an evil crowd. If you win booty of anything of value, they will follow you, one and all, on horse or on foot. But let them not go into battle armed with you; their help will not be worth a penny to you and they will take to flight no matter whose the loss will be. You won't have an army worth a straw. The sons of Herbert are not to be despised; they will kill you, for I can foretell the issue, and they will cut your heart out of your body with their sharp swords." §54 "Fair son Raoul, I beseech you by the God of justice not to stir up such an unlawful strife. Tell me now, what will become of Bernier whom I brought up till he reached the age of knighthood?" "Lady, he has behaved like a presumptuous traitor: he brought me to task in the king's presence when I swore by St. Richier not to listen to a word that was raised against me; he told me that he would say no more until the day of battle and that then if need be he would stand by his uncles." When the lady heard this she thought she would go mad with anger, and she cried out loudly: "I knew it, I will not hide it from you: this is the man whom you have reason to fear and by whose sword you will lose your head, if he but have the chance. My son, give heed to my advice: make your peace with the sons of Herbert; let this dispute be arranged and settled. Leave their land alone---they will love you for it and will help you to carry out your other war and drive the knight of Le Mans from the land." Raoul listened to her words, but they only made him more angry and he swore that not all the gold of Montpelier would stop him. "Accursed be the knight---what a coward he must be---who takes counsel of a woman before going into battle! Go to your chambers, lady, and take your ease; drink pleasant draughts to fatten your belly. Plan meals for your household, for you are not fit to meddle with these other things." The lady wept when she heard his words: "Fair son," said she, "there was a time when you had great need of me. When the French wished to do you an injustice and let your rights of inheritance pass to that felon mercenary of Le Mans, I refused to have anything to do with him, but I nursed and raised you out of love until you could mount a horse and hear arms and stand up for your own right. Then I sent you to Paris to learn the ways of the court with four hundred comrades, all of noble birth and high spirit, and not one lacked a well-lined hauberk. The emperor kept you willingly, for he is my brother and wished not to mar your prospects. Rather he knighted you and made you seneschal to do you honor. Then were your enemies much cast down, but your friends rejoiced greatly, for they thought you would have help in case of need. And now you wish to go and claim a land from which no ancestor of yours ever took a penny. If now you will not abandon your design for love of me, may the Lord God, the judge of all, never bring you back safe and sound and whole of skin." Terrible were the results of this curse, as you shall hear, and fatal in the end. §55 Lady Alice was heavy at heart. She had cursed her son, and she came out of her palace and entered the church of St. Geri. With arms outstretched she placed herself before the crucifix and she prayed to God who never lies: "Glorious God, for the sake of the pain that you did suffer upon that Friday when you were put upon the cross, when Longinus pierced Your side and Your blood was shed for sinners, bring my son back to me safe and sound and whole. Wretched that I am, I have cursed the child that I nourished so tenderly; if he dies, I must confess the guilt is mine: it will be a great wonder if I do not slay myself with a knife." With these words she went out of the church; she saw red Guerri in front of her and she seized his bridle and said to him: "Sir vassal, why have you ridden here? Whence did you get all your evil counsels!" "Lady," he replied, "I will not deceive you---your son's pride is the cause of all this. No man in the world, no matter how valiant or praiseworthy, could criticize him and still retain his friendship." §56 Guerri the Red did not wish to lose any time. As soon as he saw Raoul he called him and said: "Fair nephew, what do you mean to do? Will you abandon this war or not?" Raoul replied: "What folly I hear! I would rather be cut in pieces than abandon it now. Immediately he summons all the barons of Artois and assembles all the grown men of Arrouaise; and they came, for they dared not refuse. You might have reckoned their number at about ten thousand. Through the gates they came, their armor shining and sparkling with gold and silver. The lady saw them and was nearly beside herself: "Alas," said she, "I am at my wits' end now. The sons of Herbert too will assemble their whole army and, if battle is joined, there will be great loss on both rides." §57 Fair Alice was in Cambrai, and through the gate of Galeran de Tudele many a Castilian warhorse could be seen approaching, many a good vassal and fine trappings in plenty. The lady was in the chapel, and when she came out she called her son and said to him: "My dear son, what are you going to do with such a crowd as this? These men of Arrouaise are not worth a fig. They are good enough at emptying dishes, but in battle, so I have heard, they are no better than a piece of cheese." Raoul listened to her words and his heart beat furiously beneath his ribs. Angrily he held his chin in his hand and said: "Lady, we have spoken too much of this already. By our Lady of Nivele I swear I would rather be the slave of a maidservant all my days than abandon the conquest of Péronne and Péronelle, of Ham and Roie and the fortress of Nesle. King Louis, who leads the French to battle, gave me the gift in his new palace, and many a head shall be split and many a body disembowelled before I leave them even the value of a plum." --"God," said the lady, "I feel a sharp pain within me. This will be the cause of your death, for your heart is too rebellious." §58 "Fair son Raoul, if you had listened to me this war would not have been begun this year. It is true that I am old and my hair is white, but I have not yet taken leave of my senses." Raoul shook with anger at her words and called straightway to the fierce Guerri, "See that our men are set in motion, and let such a war be let loose on Vermandois that even the churches be burnt down and laid in ruins. Let my lady alone; she is old and past her prime. The people that I have summoned are blaming me already; they have been tried in many an encounter and are not used to being defeated in battle." §59 Raoul de Cambrai takes leave of his mother Alice and rides with Guerri the Red through Arrouaise, which is his own territory. Both the knights are on horseback and well armed. Then they cross the boundary of Vermandois; they seize the herds and take the herdsmen prisoners; they burn the crops and set fire to the farms. Bernier was gloomy and cast down; when he saw the land of his father and his friends ravaged with fire he was almost mad with grief. Wherever the others went he stayed behind and very reluctant was he to put on arms. §60 Then Count Raoul called Manecier, Count Droon and his brother Gautier: "Take your arms," said he, "without delay; four hundred of you ride speedily and reach Origny before nightfall. Spread my tent in the middle of the church; let my pack horses be tethered in the porches; prepare my food beneath the vaults, fasten my falcons to the golden crosses and make ready a rich bed before the altar where I may lie. I will lean against the crucifix and deliver the nuns up to my squires. I mean to destroy the place and ruin it utterly because the sons of Herbert hold it so dear." The knights reply: "We must do your bidding." They get themselves ready quickly; they mount and each one dons his sword, his shield, his lance and his hauberk of double thickness. As they approached Origny the bells were ringing from the church tower. They remembered God, the father of justice, and even the maddest of them was constrained to kneel down. No longer could they defile the holy places---they pitched their tent outside in the meadows and they lay there till the day dawned. Then they prepared everything as if with the intent to remain there for a whole year. §61 Near Origny was a pleasant grove where the knights encamped themselves and awaited the dawn of day. On the next day Raoul arrived just as the bells were ringing for matins. Much he abused his knights in his anger : "You lowborn traitors and scoundrels, like base minded slaves you have acted in disobeying my commands!" "We crave your pardon, sire, for the sake of the Redeemer. But we are neither Jews nor tyrants that we can destroy the holy relics." §62 Count Raoul was unbridled in his wrath: "Vile traitors," said he, "I ordered you to stretch my gold topped tent inside the church. By whose advice has it been raised outside?" "By my faith," said Guerri, "you go too far! You have only just been knighted, and if you offend God you will come to an untimely end. This place is held in honor by men of worth; the holy relics ought not to be defiled. The grass is fresh and green in the meadows; the river banks beside are fair and open and there your advance guards and your men can lie without fear of surprise or assault" ---"As you will," replied Raoul, "at your wish I leave it thus." So they spread the coverings on the green grass and there Raoul was lodged. There were ten knights with him, and disastrous was the counsel that they took together. §63 "To arms, knights," cried Raoul, "and let us attack Origny without delay! My curse on anyone who remains behind!" The barons mount, about four thousand of them, for they dare not disobey, and they ride towards Origny. They attack the fortress and those within defend themselves; and well they may, for Raoul's men come ever nearer and already they cut down the trees around the town. Then the nuns came forth from their chapel each one with her psalter in her hand---all noble ladies who spent their lives in the service of God. Marsent, the mother of Bernier, was there, and she cried; "Mercy, Raoul, for God's sake. If you bid destroy us, you commit a great crime, though it be an easy thing to accomplish." §64 Marsent was the name of Bernier's mother. In her hand she was carrying an ancient book held in reverence since the days of Solomon and she was praying as she went. She caught hold of Raoul by his bright hauberk and said: "Sir, tell me in God's name where is Bernier, that noble baron's son? I have not seen him since I nursed him as an infant." ---"In the first tent, lady, where he is playing with his boon companions. There is no knight his equal if you search from here to Nero's meadow. He urged me to make war on the sons of Herbert and said that it mattered not to him if I robbed them of all they possessed." ---"God," said the lady, "what a traitor he is! They are his uncles, as every one knows. If they lose all their possessions it will be the worse for him." §65 "My lord Raoul, would a prayer be of any avail to cause you to withdraw a little space? We are nuns, believe me, and we shall never carry lance nor banner, nor will anyone ever lie on a bier through any act of ours." ---"Truly," said Raoul, "you are not lacking in cunning. But I will have no dealings with a whore of a chambermaid who everyone knows is a prostitute and harlot, a common slut who has been had by everyone. I knew you to be Count Ybert's prostitute; your flesh was never too expensive--if anyone wanted some, it could be had for next to nothing." ---"Heavens," said the lady, "what language do I hear? What strange abuse is heaped upon me. Never have I been a prostitute or a harlot. If a nobleman did make me his mistress, I had a son by hom of whom I am proud to this day. With God's mercy, I do not hold myself less for it; who serves God well will see His face." §66 "My lord Raoul," said the mother of Bernier again, "we know nothing about the handling of weapons. You can easily slaughter and destroy us if you wish. We shall not take up shield or lance to defend ourselves, of that you may be sure. All our sustenance and all our living we draw from this altar and within the precincts of this place we support ourselves. The men who love this place are good men and they send us gold and silver. Spare the precincts and the chapel and take your ease in our meadows. At our own cost, sire, if you permit it, we will maintain you and your knights. Your squires shall be paid in kind and shall have fodder and oats in abundance." Then said Raoul: "By St. Richier, for your sake and at your request you shall have the truce you ask for, whomever it may displease." "My thanks for this," replied the lady, and Raoul rode on his way. Then came the good knight Bernier to see his fair mother Marsent, for great was the need he felt to speak with her. §67 Raoul quickened his pace as he rode away, and Bernier came, dressed in his costliest clothes, to see his mother. He dismounted from his horse and she kissed him and took him in her arms and three times she embraced him. Then she spoke out boldly: "My son," said she, "you have gained your arms, and my blessing be upon the count who gave them to you so young, and still more on you for deserving them! But one thing you must explain to me. Why do you wish to attack your father's inheritance? There are no other heirs; it would fall to no one else but you, and you will obtain it by your prowess and your good sense." And Bernier replied: "I myself would not attack for all the wealth of Baghdad. My lord Raoul is more wicked than Judas. But he is my lord; he gives me horses and robes, and arms and cloths from Baghdad. I would not fail him for all the wealth of Damascus until such time as all should say I acted rightly." ---"Son," said his mother, "by my faith, you are right: serve your lord and God will be your reward." §68 The sons of Herbert, who set great value on the large and prosperous town of Origny, had surrounded it with a palisade for its protection; but it would have been of small avail against an attack. All around was a large and beautiful meadow where jousts used to be held. The lowlands belonged to the nuns of the foundation and there grazed the cattle that brought them in their means of livelihood. No man under heaven would dare harm it. There it was that Count Raoul had his tent pitched; the poles of the tent were of gold and silver, and it was so large that a hundred men could lodge in it. Then it came about that three worthless scoundrels stole forth from the army and did not spare the spurs until they reached the town. They stole all they could lay hands on; they were unwilling to leave anything. But they were burdened by the very thing that ought to have profited them. For ten men of the city gave chase, each with a crowbar in his hand, and they killed two of them, for they were overloaded. The third escaped on his horse. Galloping back to the tents, he dismounted and kissed his lord's shoe; weeping, he called upon him for pity. Loudly he stated his demand: "May the Lord God abandon you if you do not avenge yourself on these citizens who are so rich and proud and strong that they care not a whit for you or anyone else. They say that they will shave your head, and that if they can capture of you, all the gold of Montpelier will not ransom you. I have seen my brother slain and cut in pieces and my nephew overthrown and murdered. By St. Richier, they would have killed me too, but I managed to escape on this horse." When Raoul heard this he was mad with anger and cried out: Up, noble knights, I must make Origny suffer. Since they have opened war upon me, so help me God, they will pay dearly for it." Without delay the knights start for Origny, for they dare not refuse---ten thousand of them in all, I have heard it said. They cross the moats, they cut down the stakes of the palisade with their steel axes and trample it under foot. They cross the moat beside the fishpond and don't stop till they reach the very walls. Great was the alarm of the citizens when they saw that their palisade was useless. §69 The citizens see that their fortification is gone and the bravest of them was much cast down. They man the walls of the fortress; they throw down stones and great sharp stakes and they kill many of Raoul's men. Not one remains behind---they are all at the walls and they have sworn by God that if they find Raoul, woe betide him! Old and young alike defend themselves furiously. Raoul is full of wrath at the defence and he swears that if the citizens one and all are not destroyed and strung up he will not give a fig for his own valor. Loudly he cries: "Barons, set fire to the town." And the soldiers obeyed him, for they were eager for booty. Raoul had broken the agreement between himself and the abbess; he rendered the nuns an evil service that day when the town was burnt to ashes so that nothing remained. Young Bernier was full of grief when he saw the destruction of Origny. §70 Count Raoul was mad with anger because the citizens had crossed him. He swore by God and his pity that the Archbishop of Rheims could not stop him now from burning them all before nightfall. He gave the order to fire the town. His men obey him; the buildings blaze, the ceilings fall in, the casks catch fire and burst their bands. All, old and young, are burnt in this pitiful crime. Count Raoul has committed a foul act: but yesterday he had sworn to Marsent that the nuns should not lose so much as a napkin, and now today he burns them all in his rage. They flee to the church, but it is of no more use than if they had made a stand against him. §71 The sons of Herbert had established Marsent, the mother of Bernier, with a hundred nuns, in great and spacious Origny because they set such value on the place. Count Raoul, fierce and proud, ordered that the streets be burnt. The houses blaze, the roofs fall in, the cellars run with wine, sides of bacon burn as the larders collapse, and the melting fat adds fuel to the flames. Now the towers of the church are alight; the fire mounts to the highest steeple--the charred roofs crash to earth, and inside the building it is a blazing furnace. The nuns are burnt to death, for nothing can withstand the heat. All hundred of them perished in torment in the flames; Marsent, the mother of Bernier, was there, and Clamados, the daughter of Duke Renier. Prone in the midst of the blaze they lay and even the hardiest knights could not help weeping for pity. As to Bernier, when he saw how things went from bad to worse, he thought he would go mad. You should have seen how he gripped his shield, when with drawn sword he hastened to the church. The flames were darting up the doors and it was impossible to get nearer than a lance throw for the great heat. But close beside a marble slab Bernier saw his mother stretched on the ground, her tender face turned upwards. He saw her psalter still burning on her breast. Then said the boy: "I can do no good here; for nothing can help her now. Dear mother, it was only yesterday you kissed me! What a bad son you have in me since I can neither save nor help you. May God, the judge of all the world, receive your soul! Raoul, you felon, may God bring disaster upon you! I wish to do you homage no longer and if I do not avenge this dishonor I count myself not worth a penny." His grief is so great that he drops his sword and swoons three times on the neck of his charger. Then he went to take counsel of Guerri the Red, but of little use could such advice be to him. §72 Young Bernier was sad at heart and he went to Guerri to seek his advice: "Counsel me, for the love of God who never lies. Raoul of Cambrai has done me a great wrong. He has burnt my mother, the fair lady Marsent, in the church of Origny. I have seen the very breasts that nourished me burning in the flames!" Guerri replied: "I am truly sorry; my heart grieves for love of you." §73 The warriors return to their tents, and Bernier full of anger departs to his. He dismounts from his steed and the squires hasten to take off his boots. All his men weep to see his grief. Then Bernier addressed them: "Noble vassals, can you give me good advice? My lord Raoul shows how little he loves me, for he has burnt my mother in the chapel over there. God grant I may live long enough to avenge her." Raoul also repairs to his tent. He has caused all the trouble and it was at his commands that the nuns were burned and roasted in the flames. He dismounts from his bay charger and his barons who love him take off his armor. They unlace his bright gold helmet and took off his good sword of steel. They draw the doubled hauberk from his back and his crumpled tunic appears. In the whole of France there was no fairer knight nor better fitted to bear arms. §74 In front of his own tent Raoul dismounts from his swift horse; the princes and captains take off his tunic bordered with ermine, and no finer man could be found than Raoul seen without his arms. He called his seneschal who used to serve him with the food he liked best, and when he came without delay he gave him the order, "Prepare me food and you will do me a great service: roasted peacocks and devilled swans, and venison in abundance, that even the humblest may have his fill. I would not be thought mean by my barons for all the gold of a city." When the seneschal heard this he looked at him in amazement and crossed himself thrice for such blasphemy. "In the name of Our Lady," said he, "what are you thinking of? You are denying holy Christianity and your baptism and the God of majesty. It is Lent, when every one ought to fast; it is the holy Friday of the passion on which sinners have always honored the cross. And we miserable men who have come here, we have burned the nuns and violated the church and we shall never be reconciled to God unless his pity be greater than our wickedness." Raoul looked at him and said: "Whore's son, why have you spoken to me like that? Why did they wrong me? They insulted two of my squires and it is not a matter for wonder that they had to pay for it dearly. But, it is true, I had forgotten Lent." So he called for chessmen; these were not refused him and he sat down in an ill temper in the midst of the meadow. §75 Raoul of Cambrai plays chess like a man who knows the game well. Aggressively he has brought his rook into play and has taken a knight with his pawn, and soon he has mated and conquered his companion who was seated at play with him. Then he leaps to his feet with a more cheerful face. He throws off his cloak, for the heat, and asks for wine. Ten noble youths hasten to fulfil his wishes. §76 Count Raoul asked for wine and immediately fourteen youths ran up, each clothed in his ermine cloak. One of them was the son of the noble Count Ybert and came from St. Quentin. He had seized a golden goblet and filled it with spiced wine; then he knelt down in front of the count, but never a word said the count in any language for the space of time in which a horse might have drunk his fill. The young knight watches him and swears by St. Firmin that, if Raoul does not take the wine he will spill it on the ground. §77 As soon as Raoul became aware of the youth he quickly took the goblet and he swore by God who never lied: "Brother, good friend, I did not see you before." Then without waiting he spoke again "Listen to me, noble and hardy knights; by this clear wine that you see here, by this sword which lies on the carpet, by the saints who have served our Savior, I declare that the sons of Herbert are in for it now. I will not leave them so much as a Paris penny, and I swear moreover by St. Geri that they shall have no peace until they have fled beyond the sea." ---"By God, sire," replied Bernier, "evil indeed will be their plight when it comes to that, for their Creator knows that they are no cowards, these sons of Herbert. There are fifty of them who are sworn friends and they have taken oaths and pledged themselves to stand together so long as they live." §78 Raoul, brave and proud, speaks again: "Listen to me, noble knights! I swear by the Lord of all the earth that I will put the sons of Herbert to shame. I will not leave them a foot of all their lands and possessions to stand upon if they are alive, or to be buried in if they are dead. I will drive them into the sea to sink or swim." Now hear what Bernier said in answer: "Raoul, dear lord, you are a brave man, but in some things you are greatly to be blamed. The sons of Herbert are very valiant men and good knights; so much I know for certain, that if you drive them over the sea, you will not live easy on their land. I am your vassal--I don't try to conceal that--but you have ill repaid my services: you have burnt my mother in that church and now that she is dead there is no bringing her back. And now you wish to drive my uncle and my father into exile! It is small wonder if I cannot contain my anger; they are my uncles and my desire is to help them: glad would I be to avenge my shame in so doing." Raoul was almost mad with anger at these words and bitterly he began to reproach the baron. §79 This is what Raoul, the handsome youth, said to Bernier: "Son of a whore, I know well that you are their man already---you are the son of my enemy Ybert de Ribemont, and you are in my tent to betray me and to learn my plans from my barons. A bastard has no right to speak as you have done. I have a great mind to cut off your head beneath your chin!" "God," said Bernier, "what a noble reward this is! What a rich gift I'm being offered for my services." §80 Then Bernier called out aloud: "Sir Raoul, I have neither brother nor kinsman here. It is well known that Ybert is my father, and my mother too was a lady of gentle birth." §81 "Raoul, I tell you truthfully that my mother was the daughter of a knight who ruled all of Bavaria. She was taken from him to her lasting ruin. There was a noble warrior in this land who took her in lawful wedlock. But he slew two royal princes with his sword in the presence of the King of France and a great and interminable war broke out. At last he fled to Gaifier of Spoleto, who kept him willingly in his service when he perceived his valor. He never returned to this land for he deigned not to be a suppliant to you nor any other man." §82 "Then was my mother in sore need of friends. There was no one so fair in forty countries. Then Ybert my father, who is a most noble man, took her by force---so I have been told, but he did not wed her, this I know for certain. §83 "Sir Raoul, Ybert my father took my mother by force, but I cannot say that he took her to the altar. By reason of his position he took her into his bed and did what he willed with her; then, when the desire took him, he wedded another woman and wished to give my mother to Geoffroy. But she chose the better part and became a nun. §84 "Sir Raoul, you commit both a sin and a crime. You have burnt my mother, and my heart is still full of wrath. God grant that I live long enough to avenge her death." Raoul listened with his head bent low; then he cried: "Bastard, renegade, if I did not restrain myself for the sake of God and his pity, I would have had you cut to pieces already. Who prevents me now from destroying you?" Then said Bernier: "A false friend I have found in you. I have served you and loved you and helped to make you powerful; I am ill rewarded for my good service. If I had my polished helmet on my head I would fight either on horse or on foot against any well armed knight to refute your charge of bastard and renegade. And you yourself with all your presumption would not dare strike me, not for the archbishopric of Rheims!" When Raoul heard this he seized the staff of a great lance that the hunters had left lying there. In his fury he raised it aloft and struck young Bernier with such force that his head was broken and all his delicate ermine stained with blood. Then Bernier went out of his mind and seizing Raoul in a fury he would soon have satisfied his desire for vengeance. But the other knights ran up quickly and parted them before any harm was done. Then Bernier shouted aloud for his squire: "Bring my arms and my thick hauberk this instant---my good sword too and my bright helmet, for I will quit this court without any leave-taking." §85 Now Count Raoul was noble at heart and when he saw that Bernier was very angry and that his head was streaming with blood he was so grieved that his thoughts were all confused. "Barons," he cried, "advise me what to do, for Bernier is departing in great anger." All the knights replied "Sir Raoul, it is small wonder if he is angry. He has served you with his sword and you have ill requited him. You have burnt his mother in her church, and, as for him, you have broken his head. God's curse on anyone who blames him if he wishes to avenge himself. You must offer him compensation, if indeed he be willing to accept it." Said Raoul: "No better advice could I have. Bernier, my brother, before God the righteous judge, I will make amends to you in the sight of all my knights." But not so readily could the reconciliation take place. Bernier replied: "you have burnt my mother who loved me so dearly, and my own head you tried to break. By the One to whom we ought to pray, never will I be reconciled to you until this red blood returns to my head of its own accord. When I see that, then the great vengeance which I long to take on you will be appeased. Not all the gold of Montpelier could make me cease to desire it." §86 Then Count Raoul addressed him very courteously. Kneeling down and clothed in a rough tunic, he spoke thus humbly out of true love for him, "Alas, Bernier, woe is me!"--so spoke the count--"don't you want a just settlement? If you will not take rightful compensation, then let me pay the forfeit---not because I fear you, but because I wish to remain your friend. By St. James of Compostella, I would rather lose the blood from my heart and see my bowels issuing from my wounds. I would rather see my palace broken into splinters [than lose your friendship]. I will make such an offer as would befit the emir of Spain, or even Louis, who leads the French! By the holy virgin, I wish to make you fair and honorable amends. Now hear what I will do. From Origny to the fortress of Nesle, a distance of fourteen leagues, for it is right that I be exact, a hundred knights shall walk each bearing his own saddle, and I myself will carry yours upon my head. I will lead Baucent, my good Spanish war horse, and not a man-at-arms nor a maid will I pass on the road but I say, 'This is the saddle of Bernier that I am carrying.'" " And the Frenchmen all say: "This is a fair offer; he who refuses this has no desire to be your friend." §87 Raoul speaks again with great humility: "Brother Bernier, you are a valiant knight; accept my amends and lay your anger aside." But Bernier replied: "All this is child's play. I would not accept your offer for all the gold of Tagus until this blood that I see here mounts to my head again of its own accord. Until such time that I take my vengeance, no peace can there be between us." Then said Raoul: "This is a sorry business, by my faith; our parting will be nasty." Guerri could not contain himself and he shouted: "By God, bastard, you are presumptuous indeed. My nephew has made you a generous offer. From this time on, your sentence of death is written on the blade of my lance." Bernier replied: "Now is my loyalty at an end. This blow has dubbed me your enemy: it will bring much sorrow in its train." §88 Now there is commotion in the camp! Young Bernier has bound a silken cloth round his head. He has put on his mailed hauberk and laced his helmet and has not forgotten to gird his sword. Then he mounts his dappled charger, hangs his embossed shield round his neck and seizes his lance with its pennon fixed. He sounds a loud blast on his horn and five knights, faithful vassals who hold their lands from him, have heard the noise and come running up full speed. They will not fail him for any living thing. There was no love shown at the parting from Raoul's men as the procession set out. Straight towards Ribemont they made their way. There Count Ybert, his beard streaked with white, stood at the window of his tiled hall, surrounded by a great company of men from his lands. He looked across the valley and saw Bernier with all his belted knights. He recognized him and changed color, "Noble knights," he said to his men, "I see my son approaching across the fields. The men with him are all armed and look very like men ready for a battle. Now we shall hear why Raoul has ravaged our land." §89 Brave Count Ybert goes to hear vespers sung for the glorious Lord of Heaven, just as Bernier arrives. He and his knights dimsount. All run from the castle to his stirrup and ask him quickly, "For God's sake, can you tell us news! Deny it not if you know anything." ---"Yes, news enough I can give you," said Bernier, "but such evil tidings that I scarce know what to do. Now let anyone who wishes to hold his land see to it that his helmet is well laced. My lord Raoul wishes to destroy us all and to drive my uncles from the land. He threatens to behead every one of them; but it may be that the God of glory will stand by us." They disarmed Bernier in front of the palace and saw the blood still flowing from his head and many a knight was filled with dismay. And now vespers are over and Ybert comes out of the chapel. He advances to embrace his son and he too sees the streak of blood down his face. Great was his amazement at the sight and his grief made his senses reel. "Son," said he, "why can I not mount my charger? What man would have dared to touch you while I could still wield my armor?" ---"My lord did this," replied Bernier, "the Count Raoul who wishes to destroy us all and has come to claim all our lands. He will not leave you as much as penny. He has razed Origny to the ground--I saw my noble hearted mother Marsent burning there, this I cannot deny. And because I was angry on her account he struck me with a staff of apple wood, with such force that I am still blood-stained as far as my breeches. He offered to make amends, this I cannot deny, but I refused to accept it or sanction it. And now I come to you for advice, my father, for it is our part now to avenge our shame." When his father heard these words he began to reproach him. §90 Thus spoke white-bearded Ybert: "Son Bernier, I tell you frankly that I know the histories of many men and I never yet heard of a proud man who prospered. It is folly to waste words on him. What he has taken seven years of guile to obtain he wastes in a single day by his great stupidity. As long as you were small and beneath my roof, I brought you up as became a noble knight. But when you grew up, you deserted your mother and me in your pride. You trusted Raoul and his flattering words and went straight to Cambrai, where you served him and received his largesse; and now he has beaten you like an old cast-off horse. I swear that you will never have any of my possessions, for I disinherit you entirely." Bernier changed color and anxiously he spoke: "For pity's sake, my father, let me remain in your service. When I saw the church at Origny in flames and my fair mother Marsent and the hundred other ladies burnt--not one escaped--, I would rather have been stark naked in Russia than behold such a sight. And then, by all the saints, when I spoke of it to my lord who had acted so treacherously, in the presence of my barons, he struck me such a blow beside the ear with a staff that my face was covered with crimson blood." Very angry was Ybert when he heard these words and he swore by God to whom all men pray: "Would that this quarrel had never been begun and that your mother Marsent had not been burnt and roasted alive! That base scoundrel betrayed her by his cunning. Many a shield will be pierced and many a coat of mail torn and rent to pieces before we abandon our land to him. He has wrongfully invaded my land, and if I fail to defend it with my sword I am not worth a rotten apple. May God curse you, you felon Raoul, for first you promised the nuns that they should suffer no harm and afterwards you burnt them in your rage. If God suffers this, if the earth does not open beneath his feet, it can only be the devil's work." §91 Count Ybert was much troubled all that day. He called Bernier to him again and spoke to him kindly: "Be not dismayed, my son, for I swear by God that Raoul shall pay dearly for what he has done before three days are over." Then the retainers and the stewards spread the cloths and the knights sat down to table. But however much the others ate, Ybert had no desire for food, but instead sat sharpening a stag's bone with his knife. His noble knights admonished him, saying: "Eat, sire, we beseech you, for it is Eastertide when all should rejoice." But Ybert replied: "I can do no such thing. I am almost beside myself on account of my son whom you see here. He is blood-stained down to his girdle and Count Raoul must indeed be my bitter foe since he sends him to me thus covered with blood. You, older ones, must stay and guard the land, the high tower and the palace, but let the youths and the wellborn squires go each to his place and get ready his steed, for we must ride at once." Then said Bernier: "Sire, you cannot leave me behind." ---"Beyond a doubt, you must stay, my son, for you are sick. Take your ease now, for you have much need of repose." But Bernier replied: "Sire, it is useless to command. For, by the oil with which I was anointed at my baptism, no power on earth would prevent my going to avenge my shame at the risk of life and limb." At these words they all set out to make ready. All that night they rode and found themselves at Roie at break of day. §92 When the barons arrived at Roie, they dismounted without delay and Count Ybert did not stop till he reached the ford. He was fully armed with his shield on his neck and his white hauberk on his back. His well-tempered sword hung at his side. The head watchman, who was at his post, threw down a stone without waiting to see who was there and all but struck him on his pointed helmet. Had it struck him, he would certainly have been felled to the earth, but it fell into the clear water before the battlement. Then he shouted: "Vassal, tell me who you are. I have hurled a stone, but I know not whether I have hit you. Now my bow is drawn and I am all ready to shoot." Ybert replied: "Stay your hand, brother. My name is Ybert and I am the son of Herbert, your late master. Go, tell the valiant Wedon, my white haired brother, that he must come to me, for it is long since I saw him and I never needed him more than now." §93 Then said the watchman: "Tell me again who you are." Said Ybert "My good friend, you shall know the truth. My name is Ybert and I hail from Ribemont. Go, tell Sir Wedon, my brother, that he must come to me immediately; never has a man needed his brother so urgently." The watchman replied "God be praised." And with all speed he hastened to the palace. §94 The watchman hastened to the chamber of Sir Wedon. He rapped with the knocker and the chamberlain heard and roused the noble knight. As soon as Wedon saw the troubled face of the watchman he said: "Friend, tell me quickly, for God's sake, is there trouble afoot?"-- "Yes, indeed, sire, greater than I have ever known. Outside is a dear friend of yours: Count Ybert, if I heard his name aright." Out from his bed leapt Wedon when he heard the name. He clad himself in his ermine, he donned his hauberk, he laced his polished helmet and girded his good sword to his side. Then up came his seneschal Thierry with his Arab steed, and Wedon mounted, seized his shield, took his lance with its broidered pennon and hastened from the palace. §95 Down the steps went Count Wedon and he did not rein in his horse until he reached the outer wall. When he saw the crowd of armed knights he cried: "Ybert, my brother, what brings you to me? Are you in trouble that you come at this hour?" ---"Yes, truly, brother, you are never likely to hear of greater. King Louis wishes to disinherit us; he has given our lands to Count Raoul. The Count has invaded our country with ten thousand men and it stands in sore need of defence. We must summon all our friends without delay." Count Wedon replied: "We shall have no lack of men, but you must be joking with me. I can't believe that Count Raoul would be so mad as to bring his army against us here; Guerri the Red is a prudent man and he surely never devised such a scheme." Ybert replied: "You waste your words. Origny is burnt already and all the nuns whom you placed there he has burnt alive--that was a great cruelty." §96 Then said Count Wedon, "By St. Richier! Has Raoul burnt Origny? " ---"I swear by God he has, brother, for Bernier came from there but yesterday. He saw his mother burnt to death in the church and the hundred nuns died a cruel death with her." ---"Now I must believe your words," said proud Wedon, "for I know that young Bernier is no frivolous youth." §97 Then the white moustached Ybert spoke again: "For God's sake, tell me, brother, whom shall we summon?" Wedon replied: "We shall have men in abundance. Let us summon Herbert of Hirson. The best fortified dwellings of Thierache belong to him---thirty castles and keeps he holds in all. He is our brother and we can well trust him." So they sent for him and Bernier took the message. A thousand noble companions he brought and they pitched their tents beneath the walls of St. Quentin. Then they summoned Raoul, count of Soissons, and he brought a thousand knights with him. The sand was fair beneath the walls of St. Quentin and there they pitched their tents and many pennons floated in the breeze. And they swore by God and all his holy names, so the song tells us, that if they find Raoul he will have no reason to rejoice in the gift of their lands, and they will pull out the beard of Guerri the Red. §98 Bernard of Retest was the next they summoned. All one side of the province of Champagne was his domain. He swore that he would be the standard bearer and he and Gerard each brought a thousand men with them. There was not a coward amongst them. They too pitched their tents beneath St. Quentin's walls and angrily swore by their patron St. Lienart that if they should find Raoul or that mongrel Guerri they would drain every drop of blood out of his body. §99 Then they summoned the good vassal Richier, who ruled the country over against the valley of Rinier. He came with a thousand of his knights, all well-armed and well mounted, and they too camped below St. Quentin. §100 How their bright armour shone and lighted up both banks of the lovely stream! But the knights swore by God who let himself be crucified to save His people, that if they find Raoul in their land he may be sure of losing his head. §101 Next came Wedon of Roie, bringing a thousand knights with ensigns of silk. Straight to St. Quentin they marched and gaily encamped beneath its walls. And they swore by God who guides the sinners aright that if they come across Raoul small joy will he have of his booty. "We will tear out his lungs and his liver," said they. "We would not give a fig for the gift that Louis of France gave him, for he will not get hold of it as long as we are alive." §102 Then they sent for Louis, the youngest of the four sons of Herbert, and he came with a thousand valiant knights. He was well armed and mounted on his French bay. They too encamped beneath St. Quentin, and roundly they swore that Raoul and his uncle had invaded their territory to their undoing. Whichever of them they met would lose life and limb, and an evil investiture would Vermandois prove to them. §103 Last of all came Ybert, the valiant baron. He was the eldest brother and the father of Bernier. Many a good knight he had with him and many a good Gascon courser you might have seen there. They dismount on the sand beneath St. Quentin and pitched their rich tents there. And they too swore that Raoul had been invested with a fief of evil omen. §104 As soon as the barons were afoot they started for Origny; eleven thousand of them in all and not one without his charger and his goodly amour and sword of steel. A league from Raoul's army they pitched their tents, so I have heard. Then spoke Wedon: "Noble knights and barons, a man without moderation is not worth a crab-apple. Count Raoul is a valiant knight and moreover he is nephew to the King of France. If we kill him we shall have endless trouble and the emperor will never be well disposed towards us. He will certainly deprive us of our lands and if he get hold of our persons he will have us cut to pieces. Let us send a messenger to him and request him to draw back a little from our land. Let him return to his own land and may God the righteous judge reward him. If he have any cause for complaint we will make amends without delay; not a foot of his land will we demand---rather than that will we let him have some of our own. We will build again the church and the sanctuary which he burnt without a cause and we will help him to wage his other wars and drive the knight of Le Mans from his land. Even his debt of honor to Bernier we will overlook." ---"Whom shall we send on this mission," said Ybert. "I will go, sire," cried Bernier, but his father answered him angrily: "By my faith, babbler, you put yourself forward too much. Only the other day you were beaten over there and now you wish to go back. If you go, you will surely make some trouble and diminish the justice of our cause." He looked round him and spied Gerard of Ponthieu. "You go, brother," said he. "I ask you as a favor." ---"Willingly, sire," replied Gerard. "I will set out at once." And straight to his tent he went to don his hauberk. §105 Gerard the Spaniard went to his tent; he dressed himself in a bright colored hauberk and laced his helmet of Pavan workmanship on his head. Then they brought him his good Norse steed. The Fleming mounted by the stirrup and quickly hung his shield around his neck and rode straight away across the marshes. To Raoul's tent he came and found many vassals of Cambrai and Artois. Count Raoul was sitting at the highest table clothed in a robe of costly Greek silk. The messenger did not appear German in the least: he leaned upon his sharp-pointed lance and spoke his greeting without hesitation: "May the Lord God, who created all countries and their laws and who was put on the cross for us, save Raoul, the King's valiant nephew and all his faithful vassals!" ---"May God protect you, brother," said Raoul courteously, "you don't seem Irish at all." §106 "Sir Raoul," said the baron Gerard, "if you are willing to hear my message I will deliver it without delay." ---"Deliver it quickly, brother, and leave, for I will not have you spying out my concerns." ---"No such evil intent have I," replied Gerard. Then he repeated his message from beginning to end in proper form and Raoul listened and began to think. "By my faith," said he, "I ought to agree to this. But first I must speak to my uncle about it." §107 Raoul went to take counsel of his uncle and told him every word of the message that Gerard had brought. Guerri heard it and began to thank God. "Nephew," said he, "you have reason to be proud when five counts wish to make their peace with you. In God's name, nephew, accept their offer, leave their land, for it is no concern of yours to govern it." Raoul was quite beside himself with anger when he heard this and he began to abuse Guerri: "I received the glove in the presence of many knights, and now you bid me relinquish it! If I do it the whole world will cry shame upon me--and rightly so!" §108 Raoul the fearless spoke again. "They used to say there was no more valiant man in all the world than powerful Guerri the Red, but now I find him cowardly and ready to give up." Guerri listened and answered proudly that not all the gold of Abbeville would make him hear such words with equanimity, nor suffer reproach from his nephew. He swore by St. Geri: "Now that you have roused me by calling me coward, the sons of Herbert and I will never be friends, unless a thousand hauberks are torn to ribbons first." He shouted to the messenger, "Quit th |