The Sowdone of Babylon is a Middle English romance most recently published by TEAMS. See Alan Lupack’s Three Middle English Charlemagne Romances (Kalamazoo, Michigan: TEAMS/Western Michigan University, 1990.) The following is a Modern English prose adaptation by Barbara Stevenson.

 

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Sultan of Babylon

 

Gracious God of most might, Who in wisdom made all things by virtue of the Word and the Holy Ghost, giving great excellence to man, and making all that is on earth subject to man and man subject to Thee, so that man should with heart and thought love and serve none but Thee. For if man had kept Thy commandments in all things and had loved Thee well and had not sinned, then he should have fully felt Thy grace, but for the offenses done to God, many vengeances have fallen. Whereof I will tell you of one; it would be too much to tell of all.

While of all realms, Rome excelled in honor, it fell for its offense. Listen a while and you will see how it was won and burnt by a sultan who was a heathen, and for sin how it was destroyed. King Louis witnessed that case, as it is written in romance and found in books of antiquity at St. Denis Abbey in France, where chronicles recount how Laban—the king of high degree and sire and sultan of high Babylon—who was born in Ascalon, conquered great parts of Christianity.

And in the city of Agremore upon the river of Flagote at that time, Laban sojourned there full royally, with twelve kings and fourteen admirals, with many a bold baron and knight who were royal and seemly; here all worthiness cannot be told. It befell between March and May, when hearts begin to awaken, when forest and field grow gay, and every person desires his like, when lovers sleep with open eye, like nightingales on green tree, and sorely desire that they could fly so that they might be with their lovers. In this season the worthy Sultan decided to go to the green wood to chase the boar, the venison, the wolf, the bear, and the badger. Then he rode along a forest’s riverfront with a great company and with royalty, the fairest of all that was in the land, with hunting dogs. He commanded his hunters chase and bugles boldly blown to frighten beasts in the land. The Sultan grew weary, so he rested under a holly tree. Sitting upon a green seat, he saw a battleship come sailing on the sea.

Immediately he beckoned with his hand to hear new tidings. The master sent to land a man, of diverse languages good and true, who said, “Lord, this battleship has come in from Babylon. It was worth one thousand pounds—loaded with pearls, precious stones, rich fur pelts, spices, with oil and brass—none better to present to you, my worthy Lord. Bad weather drove us to Rome, and the Romans promptly robbed us. They slew many of us. We were left with sorrow and care. Therefore, Lord, order your bold barons to avenge you of this villainy, or certainly our bliss is cold.”

 The Sultan, hearing this tiding, made a vow to Mahound [Muhammad] and to Apollo that the Romans should pay for it dear enough before he went from them: “Where be you, my bold barons and my admiral? These tidings make my heart cold; unless I be avenged, I shall die. Sir Ferumbras, my son so dear, you must comfort me in this case. My joy is all in you and in my daughter Dame Floripas. Call forth Sortibraunce, my counselor, to counsel me, and Oliborne, my chancellor and noble clerk of high degree, and Espiarde, my messenger, to go to Asia and Africa to kings, princes far and near, barons, admirals, and dukes strong, commanding them upon their allegiance to come in all haste to me well armed with shield and lance to Agremore, the rich city.”

In a short time this message was brought to 100,000 in a company. That robbery was dearly bought—none ever dearer—without a doubt. The king of Baldas, Sir Lukafere, who of Africa was lord and governor, spoke to the Sultan, so men might hear: “Sir, for your honor, do send for ships both far and near.” Seven hundred galleys were gathered all together and a warship for the Sultan bold. Sir Ferumbras of Alexandria was with him in the warship from Asia, the king of Chaundere, and his fair daughter Floripas. Two masters were in the warship, two gods on high set there in the mast top, with maces round to menace the Christians. The sails were of red silk embroidered richly with beasts and birds in every part. The arms displayed by Laban were azure with four gold lions.

The rich Sultan of Babylon was the most mighty man. He made a vow to Termagent: when Rome was destroyed, he would turn errant and destroy Charles, the King of France. They sailed forth on the river until they came to the haven of Rome. The wind served them very well.

There landed many a grim warrior. They burnt and slew the Christians that were in town, abbey, and holy church. The heathens had such power that they worked much woe there. News soon came to the Pope in Rome that the heathens had come to burn and to slay—this was to the Romans a sorry case!

            The Pope called his counselors together to advise what was best to do: “Lords, it is unknown to you, but this cursed heathen Sultan is now burning and destroying our people; he leaves not nearly one alive. St. Peter be our governor and save this worthy city of Rome and St. Paul be our guide from this cursed heathen hound.”

            After he spoke to them, Ifrez, a Roman senator said, “Send some worthy man to Charles, king of high honor. He would help you with all his might, that noble king of dear France.”          “Certainly,” said Savariz, “that is not right; it is bad to send for that worthy king. We have yet our heads all whole, our shields are not broken, neither hauberk, spear, nor pole. Why should we complain to him when we have not yet mounted an assault? We might be vilified

because we were so soon afraid for nothing. Deliver to me 10,000 men quickly into the field by tomorrow next, and I shall with all my might break both their spear and shield.”

            It seemed well to the senators, his counsel good and honorable. This worthy duke was armed in steel armor good and profitable. He bore upon a checkered cloth of clear red an eagle with wingspan displayed, and with him many a bold warrior. Then spoke Savariz with words on high and said, “All my fellows, this day you men shall prove worthy and fair. Thank yet that Christ is more mighty than all their false gods, and He shall give us the victory and evil shall befall them this day.”

            That fair host rode forth with right good cheer and flew swiftly until they came full nigh to the edge of the Sultan’s pavilion. Ferumbras was aware of them and sprang out as a spark from an ember. A shield he bore with arms bright, a doughty man he was in deed. Fifteen thousand came out there with him at that same time to wage war against the Romans, with pomp and great pride.

The siege was strong, long enduring. The Romans had the field there; they slew among 10,000 and more Saracens with spear and shield. Savariz was wise and wary and drove towards that city; he displayed his banner to rally his retainers. The pope with his senators thanked glorious God Who gave them great honors that day, to have victory over the heathens that day. 

            Lukafere, king of Baldas, searched and sought 10,000 maidens fair of face and brought them to the Sultan. The Sultan commanded that they should all be slain immediately. They were all martyrs, of which they were all glad.

            The Sultan said, “My people shall not be brought to evil by these Christians, and I will destroy the seed of all Christianity.”

            Then spoke Lukafere, that heathen hound and king of Baldas: “Sir Sultan, grant me one thing, your daughter Dame Floripas. I shall bring to you the King of France and his Peers all together.”

            The Sultan replied, “I grant you her, who is so dear.”

            Then Floripas said, “Sir, do not be hasty. He has not yet done as he has said. I expect he says these words in vain; he is but making an easy boast. When he brings home Charles the King and the Twelve Peers all, I promise to be his darling.”

            Then on the morrow the Sultan commanded Lukafere of Baldas to assault the city immediately: “And look you tarry not in this case! Take thirty thousand of my retainers of Gallops, Ethiopians, and Africans to the walls with you. Tear down walls, towers, and stones.”

            Lukafere blew his clarion trumpet to assemble the Saracens at that time; they knew right well the sound. They made themselves ready to ride, but when they came to the gate the ditches were so devilishly deep they held themselves in checkmate. They could neither go nor creep over.

            Lukafere in all haste turned to the Sultan and said, “Sir, it is all in waste; we labor in vain. The ditches are too broad and deep, the towers so strong, that by Mahound I cannot see how we should get ourselves to the wall.”

            Who was mad but the Sultan? He renounced all his gods. He called quickly his engineer Sir Mavone for counsel.  The Sultan explained their unfortunate situation; Mavone gave him counsel in brief to fill the deep ditches: “Every man will go to the woods to hew faggots and bind them fast to fill the ditches as quick as possible.”

            “Gramercy, Mavone,” Laban then said, “You shall have Mahound’s benison; of all my men you are the wisest, with counsel to save men.” All this was done on the second day so that men might reach the wall.

            They then made their assault. In great fear, the Romans ran to the towers; they were sharply attacked and assaulted. Wives and maidens bore stones quickly to the wall—they were in great dread—and the men cast the stones over the wall. They slew many a Saracen—ten thousand and more.

            When the day ended, the heathens withdrew. When these tidings came to Laban, he began to chide his gods. He grew both wan and pale; he was very mad. Then Lukafere comforted him and said, “Sir, be not dismayed, for I know how they shall all be betrayed. Savariz tomorrow will fight us; his banner I know well. I shall have another banner, I pledge to you, like his in every way. When he is most busy in battle, then will I display the banner and ride into Rome without fail; thus shall they all be deceived.”

            The Sultan was glad of this tiding, hoping it should be so. And even as it was planned, right so was it done. Guessing it was Savariz returning from the heathen battle (guessing often causes harm, it is no lie) he entered into the master tower, so the first sally they won by this false contrivance. Thus was much sorrow begun, for they slew all that were therein.

            When Savariz saw this misfortune of the Romans, how great their sorrow that of ten thousand men were left no more but sixty men and twelve. And when he saw this misfortune, he turned homeward. By then he found the gate shut by the Saracens that had won it. He met Astrogote. He had a head as a boar, black and dark, and a great mace as strong as steel. He smote Savariz, who fell dead to the ground. This Astrogote of Ethiopia was a king of great strength. There were none in Europe so strong and so long. I think he was a devil’s son, of Beelzebub’s line. He caused Christian men great pain. When tidings came to the Pope that Duke Savariz was slain, all his hope turned to woe.

            He then called to council all the senators of Rome, to determine what things might most avail them. Then bespoke a worthy man of counsel, an earl of the senators: “The best counsel  I can give is send to Charles the King messengers with news of your misfortune, so he will come with his Twelve Peers to rescue Christianity from these heathens.”

            They all assented immediately; the letters were made in haste. Three messengers were then ordered to go forth. At a postern they went out privately about midnight and passed through the crowd; no one was aware of them.

            But now I will let the messengers go and speak of Laban, how he assaulted the city immediately and commanded that every man should with pickax or with mattock overthrow the walls, so that he might kill the Romans. He ordered that the ships go by water with boats bound to the mast, so that they might fight with them soon, hand to hand was their intent. At the tower a bastille stood that was for the city’s protection; missiles from an engine were thrown,  which broke down towers both high and low. Then sorrowed all the citizens and they were full heavy.

            Then the Saracens grew proud, and then Sir Laban said, “Yield to me; you may not long endure, or else you all shall be slain, by Mahound, I assure you.”

            A Roman threw a spear at him and smote him on the breastplate, nor did his hauberk last—Mahound had come too late! Then the Sultan was more than mad.

            He cried to Ferumbras, “For Mahound’s love, that is so good, destroy both man and place. Spare nothing that is alive—house, tower, nor wall; beast nor man; child nor wife; burn, slay, and destroy all.”

            Then Ferumbras ordered immediately to bend the engines toward the town and beat down both tower and stone. He called forth Fortibraunce and Mavone and said, “Be your engines good? Show forth here now your craft for Mahound’s love that gives men food, that there be no tower left.”

            Then the great wretch Astrogote with his mighty mace smote on the gates of Rome and broke them all. He entered the gate; the Romans let the portcullis fall on him. He thought he came in too late! It smote him through the heart, liver, and gall bladder. He lay crying on the ground like a devil from hell. So loud went the sound through the city; then he began to yell.

The Romans were all glad that he had fallen into the trap, and the Saracens all were sorry of that mischievous mishap!

            Then the Sultan, Ferumbras, and Lukafere were sorry; they withdrew to their tents and left him lying there. Mahound took his soul to him and brought it to his bliss. He loved him well and all his kin.

            Soon the Pope did summon all; the people of the city came. To St. Peter’s he called them and thither came every man. He said on high, “My children dear, you know well how it is against the Saracens here—we will not endure much longer, I know. They break our walls, our towers all, with throws of their engine. Therefore here among you all you shall hear my counsel. They have withdrawn their host and they are all armed. Therefore, I think it is best early tomorrow to fall on them. We have thirty thousand men. Twenty thousand shall go with me and leave ten in this city to govern the populace.”

            The senators immediately assented and said, “No man might say better.”

            On the morrow this was done. God bring them well home again. The Pope displayed then the high banner of Rome. And he absolved every man through Gracious God in judgment. He prayed for help and succor, St. Peter and Paul also, and Our Lady, that sweet flower, to save the city of Rome from woe.

They rode forth toward the host. Ferumbras roamed about. He saw the Romans come by the coast; then he had great fear. He blew a horn—of brass it was—the Saracens began to wake.    “Rise up,” he said in a rush, “Or else we all will be taken. Every person arm immediately, go to horse with spear and shield. You may see the fearful sight of our enemies in the field. Ascopars, you go before us, for you are men of might. Ethiopians, Asians, and Ascalons, go next before my sight. My father and I, with Babylonians, shall keep the rearguard. King Lukafere with Baldeseynes, to avenge all, shall have the vanguard.”

            The Romans realized that the Saracens were aware of their coming then, and therefore had much dread. Nonetheless they went toward them. St. Peter be their succor!

            There began a powerful assault. Sir Ferumbras of Alexandria—a bold man indeed—upon a gay steed, he rode in rich clothes. Sir Bryer of Apulia, a Roman to fear, was bored through with a spear; he lay dead on the ground. Might he no more them defend. When Hubert, a worthy man, saw how Bryer  was slain, he rode  to Ferumbras for vengeance. He began to strike firmly with a spear upon Ferumbras’ shield; he broke the shield in the middle but his hauberk would not break. Many good strokes were dealt! Ferumbras was aggrieved though; with might he smote the neck asunder, the neckpiece also, so that Hubert dead sat upright. The battle was hard and strong; many a steed went astray and lay on the ground and rose never after that day. Nine thousand of the pagans’ pride were slain that day and eight thousand on the Romans’ side lay dead in that field. Lukafere that pagan proud, slew eighteen Romans. He could make much sorrow in war; his strokes were seen all over. Gyndarde, a senator of Rome, had slain ten Saracens, until he met with a cursed warrior—Lukafere slew him then.

            The Pope then came with great array; his banner before him went. Ferumbras then began to determine if he might attack, supposing there was the sovereign; therefore, he did not spare him but bore down upon him in the plain. Immediately he started to unlace his neck armor and saw his crown newly shaved.

            He was then ashamed: “Fie, priest, God give you sorrow! Why do you come armed in the field, who should say your matins in the morrow? What are you doing with spear and shield? I hoped you had been an emperor or a chieftain of this host here or some worthy conqueror. Go home and keep your choir. It would certainly shame me to slay you in this battle; therefore, turn home again.” The Pope was certainly glad. He went home to Rome that night with five thousand and no more. Fifteen thousand were left in the field; therefore was there great sorrow.

            Now we will tell of the messengers who went to Charlemagne, certifying to him with letters, how the Romans were slain and how the country was burnt unto the gate of Rome and how the people sang “alas” until succor came from him.

            “Who,” said Charles, that worthy king, “The Sultan and Ferumbras? I will not stop for anything until I chase them out of Christendom. Therefore, Guy of Burgundy, my own true nephew, take a thousand pounds of fine francs  to pay wages for the people. Take this now and I will send you more. Look that you spare no horse nor shield but that he dead be and speed thitherward unless, I dread, you have great need, and I shall come afterward as fast I may speed.”

            Speak we of Sir Laban and let Charles and Guy be, how he ordered them then to destroy the city of Rome: “Sir Lukafere, you made the boast to conquer the Romans and to bring me the host of the Twelve Peers and Charlemagne. Upon a condition I grant you my daughter, dear Dame Floripas, wherefore I ask you now to hold your covenant in this case.”

            “That I said,” replied Lukafere, “To Mahound I make a vow to do all that I promised.” He ordered an assault in haste with ten thousand men and more and Ferumbras at that other side fast assailed them with great woe. The assault lasted all that day from morning until night, to throw and shoot in every way. Then went they home to their tents until were morning.

            Isres, with false intent, decided upon treason and sorrow. He was chief porter of the town by heritage and fee. He went to the Sultan, for the rich city he would betray, and said, “Lord, give me grace for my goods and for me, and I will deliver you this place to have and to hold forever in fee. The keys of this rich city I have in my power.”

            “I grant,” said Laban, “that you are to be free without ransom.”

            Ferumbras made ready with twenty thousand men and more to travel with Isres and to win the city. As soon as he entered the chief gate and all his men rushed in, he let the portcullis fall. He smote off the traitorous head and said, “God give him care! Shall he never more eat bread. All evil traitors must they fare. If he might live and reign here, he would betray me, for should he go west, south or north, he shall never be a traitor.” He bore his head on a spear throughout this fair city.

            “Treason, treason,” they cried there; it was a pity to see and hear. The people fled every way; they dare not stay. The highway was full of dead men and also by every lane’s side.

            Ferumbras went to St. Peter’s, and he seized all the relics immediately—the  Cross, the Crown, the bent Nails—he took everyone of them with him. He did despoil all the city both of treasure and of gold and after that burnt all that ever might be told. The Saracens bore all the treasure to the city of Agremore.

Laban the Sultan sojourned there three months and three days more in mirth and joy and great entertainment. And he made offerings to his gods. He and his son Sir Ferumbras did pray to their gods of gold. They burnt frankincense that smoked up a strong fume in their presence; it lasted long. They blew horns of brass; they drank beasts’ blood. There was milk and honey that was royal and good. Serpents were fried in oil to serve the Sultan; “Antrarian, Antrarian,” they loudly cried that signified “Joy  general.” Thus they lived in joy and bliss two months or three.

            Let me now be done with all this and of Guy now we speak. Sir Guy hurried toward Rome with his host. When he approached there nigh, that he might see the coast, the city was all aflame, that all about for three miles there was no man who dared come close to the city for great fear. That was a sorry city then.

            Sir Guy was in great grief, there was nowhere a sorrier man, for sorrow he sighed fully and said,   “Alas! we come too late! For through some treason or guile they entered at some gate! There is nothing to do but wait until Charles the King come to this meadow by green woods, to tell him of this tiding how Laban has burnt the city and born the relics away and how he has sent them to Spain in great ships, to Agremore his chief city, there to menace Charles and his barons. God give them an evil end!”

            King Charles did not forget to rescue Rome; he sought all his Peers—full soon they came to him. King Charles led three hundred thousand soldiers—they were doughty in all sieges and worthy men of deeds. That worthy knight Sir Roland, he led the vanguard, and Sir Oliver that was so brave governed the rearguard. The King himself and his barony, with royal dukes and earls, governed all the middle party.  By commandment he ordered a great plenty of flesh and fish, bread and wine, to sail by sea in ships to serve him full well and fine.

            Sir Guy saw his coming—he knew the banner of France—he went immediately to the king. He told him of that misfortune, how that the cursed Sultan had burnt Rome and bore the relics away and how he had slain one and all that he found of Christian faith. Moreover he made his vow to seek King Charles in France and do him enough woe there—God give him much misfortune!

            “Ah,” said Charles, “that needs nothing [need not go to France]; he shall find me near. By God that bought me dear, he shall pay for it dearly. I shall never leave him, I know, within the walls nor without—I swear by God and St. Denis—until I have sought him out. Unless he will be baptized and leave his false faith, he shall never see Babylon despite his great military force. Immediately ship every man, with food and supplies, to the proud Sultan.”

            Full fair and good, the wind blew him into the river of Gase over the salty water and over the deep sea. Thirty leagues from Agremore  by land it is, truly, and to land they went, and burnt and slew all that they found and destroyed both tower and town. They left nothing on the ground that they did not beat it down.

            Tidings went to Laban, how Charles had come and slew both child, wife, man and burnt and destroyed one and all with three hundred thousand warriors that were both proud and merry, and with him all his Peers, people of great array: “Unless you [the Sultan] order revenge, he will burn and slay you, you and your rich barony he will not leave one alive.”

            When Laban heard these tidings, his heart grew all cold and he said, “This is a wondrous thing! How dare he be so bold? Little does he know what I can do! He dreads me little now, but certainly he shall before he goes, to Mahound I make a vow.”

            He did call to himself Sir Lukafere and Ferumbras and Mavone and Sortebras and all his barons: “I charge you upon your allegiance that you bring me that wretch that calls himself King of France hither to my pavilion. Keep him alive, the rest slay, the Twelve Peers each one.  I shall teach him courtesy, I swear by God Mahound!”

            Ferumbras immediately then readied himself to ride with many proud Saracens that boldly did abide. Roland met Ferumbras and gave him such a stroke that he was all astonished—it made him stoop low! Ferumbras smote him again with might and main, with anger that stymied all his brain; he thought his eyes were all on fire. Oliver met with Lukafere and hit a stroke right well set upon the shield, a quarter flew into the field. Thus they fought together all the livelong day, now hither and now thither; many a horse went astray there. The Twelve Peers fought well: Duke Neimes and Ogier, with good swords of fine steel, and so did Guy and Sir Bryer. Ferumbras was about to fight with Oliver and Oliver without doubt laid on with good cheer. King Charles saw Ferumbras; to him he rode fast and with his mace hit the helmet. Ferumbras was mad with woe. King Charles immediately drew out Joye [his sword] and with his own hand slew thirty Saracens that lay dead upon the sand; many of them therefore had enough joy!

            Sir Lukafere of Baldas pressed Charles soon and said, “ Sir, with hard grace, what have you done here? I pledged to Laban to bring you to him and the Twelve Peers all; now you shall come with your kin to the Sultan’s hall. Yield yourself to me,” he said, “I shall save your life.”      Charles then laid a stroke on him; he made the pagan rave. He smote him on the helmet with Montjoye, his good sword. Had Lukafere not been rescued then, Charles would have slain him with his hand. Then came a throng of Baldesyns to rescue their lord, and Nubans and Turks among them by one accord. Then Roland drew out Durendal and made room about. Forty of them he slew; they were in great fear. Roland, as fierce as a lion, with Durendal dinged upon the Saracens’ crown, as hard as he might fly. Duke Neimes and Sir Oliver, Guy and Alloreynes of Lorraine, and all the noble Twelve Peers, Ogier and Briere of Brittainy, they fought faithfully in that fight; the field was full of dead men; thirty thousand, I promise you, Saracens were slain.

            All things must have an end; the night came on soon. Every person turned to go.

Ferumbras said to his men, “We blow our horns. This day we had a full ill fray. To say the truth and not to lie, our gods did not help us today. Until I may prove my might with Roland, that proud lad, or with Oliver, that is so light [on his feet], and in Paris be crowned King despite them all, I will never leave whatsoever happens.”

            King Charles with great honor went to his pavilion. He bore the flower of triumph despite Mahound. Almighty God and St. Denis, he thanked full often, and Our Lady, Mary of Paris, that gave them gladness and bliss. He commended the old knights that had victory that day and charged the young with all their might to have them in memory: “For worthiness will not be had, unless it is often sought, nor knighthood will not be had until it be dearly bought. Therefore you knights young of age may learn from the old how you shall both hurl and rage in field with shield and spear. And take the example of the Twelve Peers, how they have proved their might, and how they were both brave and fierce to win honors in right. These heathen hounds we shall tame, By God in majesty. Let us make mirth in God’s name and to supper now we go.”

            [The Sultan prayed:] “O thou red Mars potent in arms, that in the alcove has made thy throne, that god is of battle and regent and rule all that alone, to whom I proffer precious presents, to you making my moan with heart, body and all my intent a crown of precious stones and how to you I give without fraud upon your day to make offering and so shall I ever while that I live by right that belongs to my faith in worship of your reverence on your own Tuesday with myrrh, aloe and frankincense upon condition that you grant me victory over the Christian dogs, and that I may slay them down as hogs, that have done me destruction and also slain my men, Mahound give them misfortune!”

In the seemly season of the year, of softness of the sun, in the prime of green spring when flowers spring and all the flowers in the forest freshly show their kind, then it is seemly therewith that manhood for spirit will proclaim, if he of honor have mind and of love to attend, and to seek honor for that end. For he was never a good warrior who could not love aright, for love has made many a conqueror and many a worthy knight. This worthy Sultan, though he heathen be, was a worthy conqueror. Many a country with shield and spear he conquered with great honor and his worthy son Ferumbras who was king of Alexandria and Lukafere of Baldas that cruel king of Cassandra who rode over many a land as men of arms, hardy and brave. The Sultan seeing this misfortune was sorely aggrieved by Charles. He sent out his ambassadors to realms, provinces far and near, to towns, cities, castles, and towers, to come to him, to India Major and to Asia, to Ascalon, Venice, Phrygia, and Ethiopia, to Nubia, Turkey and Barbary, to Macedonia, Bulgaria, and to Europe. All these people  gathered at Agremore, three hundred thousand Saracens, some blue, some yellow, some black as Moors, some horrible and strange as devils from hell. He made them drink wild beasts’ blood from tiger, antelope and giraffe, which is used to make their mood eager when they go to battle.

            He said to them, “My friends dear, as my trust is all in you, on these French dogs that have been here you must avenge me now. They have done me villainy. They have slain many of my people. And yet moreover they menace me and drive me to my country again. Wherefore I will make a solemn offering to Mahound and to my gods all. The better it shall us befall. The last time they were angry we had not done our duty.” Therefore to say the truth there were many horns blown. The priests sent plenty enough gold and silver; with noise and cry they slew  beasts  and every man his vow he made to avenge the Sultan of his injury. Here gods of gold they grew all faded, the smoke was so great. 

            When all was done, the Sultan then charged Ferumbras to be ready on the morrow, before day began, to ride out of that city with thirty thousand Asians, Phrygians, Paens and Ascolens, Turks, Indians, and Venetians, Barbarians, Ethiopians and Macedonians: “Bring him to me, that proud king. I shall teach him courtesy. Look that you slay all his other retainers, save Roland and Oliver, that be of great renown, if they will renounce their gods here and believe in mighty Mahound.”

            Ferumbras with great military force rode forth—Mahound  give him speed—until  he came nigh where Charles lay in a green meadow. In a wood he readied his men privately that same time and with his fellows none but ten he began to ride to King Charles and said, “Sir King, you are so bold, upon a truce I come to speak with you. If you be courteous, as I expect, you will grant me a boon that I might fight upon this green with Roland, Oliver, Guy, Duke Neimes, and Ogier, together with you and Duke Richard of Normandy—all seven at once to fight. My body I proffer here to you and require you, King, do right by me, as you are a gentle, generous lord, and if I may conquer them together to lead them home to my father’s hall, and if they me, I grant you here to be your man, body and all.”

The king answered with mild words and said, “Fellow, that needs nothing, I shall find of mine a knight that shall give you what you seek.”

            The King called Sir Roland and said, “You must fight with this man, to take this battle here at hand, thereto God give you grace and might.”

            Roland answered with bold words and said, “Sir, have me excused.” He said he certainly would not fight; the battle he refused utterly: “The last day you praised fast the old knights of their worthiness. Let them go forth—I have no haste—they may go show their prowess.”

            For those words the king grew angry and smote him on the mouth on high, the blood goes out his nose, and said, “Traitor, you shall pay,”

            “Pay,” said Roland, “I will not and I was never a traitor, by that Lord that bought me dearly.” He immediately pulled out Durendal and would have smite the King there had not the barons run between them.

            The King withdrew from him in fear and went home as it might be best. The barons made them at once with great prayer and insistence as every anger must pass over for misfortune to avoid. 

            Oliver heard of this, who lay in his bed sorely sick. He was soon fully armed and he went to the King and said, “Sir King, grant me a boon, for all that I have done in your service: to fight with that king so brave tomorrow day, before it be noon.” 

            Charles answered to Oliver, “You are sick and wounded sorely, and you are also my dear cousin; therefore speak of this no more.” 

            “Sir King,” he said, “I am all whole. I ask you this boon in God’s name.”

            “Certainly,” he said, “I hold you a fool, but I pray God shield you from shame.”

            He rode forth in that forest until he began to see Ferumbras where he had alighted and took his rest. His steed he tied to a green tree.

            “Sir,” he said, “rest you well. King Charles sent me hither, if you be courteous knight and rise up and let us fight together.”

            Ferumbras sat still and laughed. He wished not to rise out of that place. “My fellow,” said he, “what are you? Tell me your name for God’s grace.”

            “Sir,” he said, “Generyse, dubbed a new knight lately.”

            “By Mahound,” said he, “you are not wise, for your coming shall you sorely rue. I hold Charles a fool to send you hither to me. I shall teach you a lesson if you be so foolhardy to fight. I expected he would have sent Roland, Oliver, and four more of the Twelve Peers who have been mighty men of battle, strong and fierce. With you I wish not to begin to play; ride again and tell him so. I will win no fame from you  though I slay you and five more.”

            “How long,” said Oliver, “will you argue? Take your arms and come to me and prove what you say in deed for you blow boasts [brag], as I think.”

            When Ferumbras heard him speak so well, he grabbed his helmet in great ire, that was made of good fine steel with pearls, rubies and sapphires. Oliver helped him to lace it on; it was gilt all about. Ferumbras thanked him for his grace and courteously bowed to him. They climbed upon their steeds, they prepared themselves to joust, to show their mighty deeds in arms they laid their spears in a rest. Together they ran as fire from thunder so that both their lances broke. It was a great wonder when they had thrust. They drew out their bright swords and smote together in one assent that they hit; it was well seen to slay each other was their intent. Sir Ferumbras smote Oliver upon the helmet right on high with his sword of clear metal that he made fire fly out. Oliver hit him again upon the head. He carved away with might and main the circle that sat upon his crown. The stroke glided down his back. The saddle he smote away and the bottles of balm upon the green where they laid were trussed behind him fast.  Then Ferumbras was full of woe. Oliver alighted down in haste. He seized both bottles, then he threw them into the river as far as he might throw.

            “Alas,” said Ferumbras, “what are you doing, man? You are mad, I think. they were worth a hundred thousand pounds to a man that is wounded sorely. There was no precious thing upon the ground that might help a man more. You shall pay, by Mahound,  man of most might. I shall break both back and crown and slay you where you go.”

            Then Oliver climbed up again; his sword he had drawn out. Ferumbras smote him with force and meant to have him slain. He smote as does the dint of thunder; it grazed down his shield and carved his steed’s neck asunder that he fell dead upon the field. Bravely Oliver started up as a knight, doughty of deed, with sword in hand for him to hurt Ferumbras’ good steed. Ferumbras saw that well. 

            He rode away then quickly and tied him to a green hazel tree, and came again to him in haste and said, “Now you yield to me—you may not endure much longer—and believe in Mahound that is so dear and your life I shall ensure. You shall be a duke in my country and you will have men at your own will. To my sister you shall be wedded; it would be a pity to kill you.”

            “Better,” said Oliver, “shall we fight, by God that is in majesty, and of my strokes you shall feel more before I shall yield to you.”

            They smote each other in eagerness and neither of the other dread; they pierced their hauberks that were so good until both their bodies bled. They fought so long that by assent they drew themselves beside for a little while for them to cool and refresh themselves at that time.

             “Generys,” said Ferumbras, “as you are a gentle knight, tell me now here in this place of your kin and what you are called. Me thinks you should be one of the Twelve Peers who may fight with me so sore, and are so strong, worthy and fierce.”

            Oliver answered to him again: “For fear I believe it not untold, my name is Oliver for certain, cousin to King Charles the bold, to whom I shall you send alive or dead this same day by conquest here in this field and make you renounce your faith.”

            “Oh,” said Ferumbras then to Oliver, “You are welcome to this place; I have desired many a year to give you hard grace. You slew my uncle Sir Persagyne, the doughty King of Italy, the worthiest king that lived of men. By Mahound you shall pay!”

            They hit fast together while the long day endured, now hither and now thither, from strokes with shields their bodies they covered. And at last Oliver smote him so upon the helmet, that was of steel, that his sword broke in two. He had no weapon. Who was woeful but Oliver then?

            He saw no other remedy. He said, “Sir, as you are a gentle man, on me now have mercy. It were a great shame and no honor to slay a man weaponless. That shame would never go.”

            “Nay, traitor, you get none, had I here a hundred more. Kneel down and yield yourself immediately or else here I will slay you.”

            Oliver saw not to trust too much in his grace. He ran to the steed that stood by the tree; a sword, of fine steel good and strong, he grabbed in that place that was trussed on Ferumbras’ steed. He thought he would give Ferumbras his reward. In turning, Ferumbras smote him; that stroke he well felt. It came on him so heavy and hot that it made him kneel down. Oliver was sore ashamed and said, “You cursed Saracen, your  pride shall be tamed by God and by St. Quentin.  You have stolen upon me that hit; I shall avenge you of that.” Oliver then gave him a stroke that he thought his eyes were on fire.

            King Charles was in his pavilion and looked toward that fight and saw how fierce Ferumbras made Oliver kneel down right. Woe was he in his heart! To Jesus Christ he made his moan: “Oh Lord God in Trinity, You are most mighty. By virtue of your majesty that knows all let not this heathen man overcome your servant in the fight. But grant Your man the victory and the pagan discomfited be, as You are Almighty God of glory. Now meekly Lord I pray to You.”

            Immediately an angel came to Charles and brought him tidings that God had heard his prayer and granted him this boon. Then Charles thanked God above with heart, thought, word and deed, and said, “Blessed by You Lord Almighty that help your servant in need.”

            These champions together they go with great strokes and also sure. Each of them hit the other while they might endure. Ferumbras broke his sword on Oliver’s helmet on high. Then he grew full sore afraid.  He ran for another readily and said, “Oliver, yield yourself to me and leave your Christian faith; you shall have all my kingdom after my day.” 

            “Fie, Saracen,” said Oliver then, “Do you believe that I am mad to forsake Him that made me man and bought me with His heart’s blood?”

            His stroke reached Ferumbras. On his helmet it began to glide down. It broke his hauberk and carved him throughout his side. His bare guts men might see; the blood ran down fast: “Hoo, Oliver, I yield myself to you, and here I become your man. I am so hurt I may not stand. I put me all in your grace. My gods are false in water and on land; I renounce them all here in this place. I will now be baptized. I will take me to Jesus Christ that Charles the King shall see and all my gods forsake. Take my hauberk and put it on you; you shall have full great need. Ten thousand Saracens wait upon me and therefore go take my steed. Lay me in front of you, I pray you, and lead me to your tent. Go fast forth on your way so that the Saracens will not harm you.”        Immediately it was done as he ordered, and fast forth they rode. The Saracens immediately assembled for to fight with them. Ferumbras saw the field filled with Saracens. He dread full sore for Oliver that Saracens should kill him. He prayed that he would let him down under yonder olive tree,  “for if you cast me down here with horse shoes all trodden upon I will be.” He rode forth and laid him there out of the horses’ path and with his sword began to fight.  A Saracen smote him with a spear that it broke into three pieces because his hauberk was so strong. He hit those Saracens with his sword through the helmet into the brain. He made another sore afraid. He smote off his arm with strength.

            But then came Roland with Durendal and made his way about. He slew them down in the vale; they had great fear of him. The press of Saracens was so strong about Roland that time. They slew his horse. When Roland was on his feet, then he was filled with woe. Many of them he felled dead to the ground; at the last his sword broke. He wept none as he smote a Saracen asunder down the back  to the neck. Then he was caught; he might not flee. His hands were bound fast and they led him forth to their city. And they cast him deep into prison.

            Oliver saw how he was led. A sorry man was he; he had preferred to have been dead than suffer that misfortune. Smartly after he pursed then to rescue his dear brother. The crowd was so great he might not, so it might be no other  but he was caught by force by sixty Ascopartes. They hurt him foully and slew his horse with javelins and with darts. Yet on foot he slew fifteen of them. He was not slain as God willed but taken and bound with injury.

            Then they were taken to Lukafere, the proud King of Baldas, both Roland and Oliver. Glad was he of that case. King Charles had a woeful heart when he saw his nephews so led. He cried to the Frenchmen then: “We rescue these knights in need.” The King himself slew many ones, so did the barons bold.

             The Saracens drew themselves to their city. King Charles turned again. He saw under a holly tree where a knight did seem lay slain. Thitherward he rode with sword in hand. He saw he was alive. He lay wallowing upon the sand with five bloody wounds.

             “Who are you?” said Charlemagne, “who has been hurt so?”

             “I am Ferumbras,” he said certainly, “That is of heathen belief.”

            “O false Saracen,” said the King, “You shall have sorrow. Because of you I have lost two cousins; your head shall I smite off.”

            “O gentle knight,” said Ferumbras, “my master Oliver promised me to be baptized by God’s grace and to die a Christian knight. It were no honor to you to slay such a discomfited man who would be converted and baptized and become your man also.”

            The King took pity on him then; he took him to his grace and assigned immediately a man to lead him to his place. He sent him to his surgeon to heal his wide wounds. He ordered him such medicine that he might soon go and ride. The King commanded Bishop Turpin to make a font ready to baptize Ferumbras therein in the name of God Almighty. He was christened in that well. Florin the King called him. He forsook the foul fiends of hell and his false gods all. Nothing for then Ferumbras all his life was he called, and afterward in some places Florin of Rome city. God showed him many miracles, so holy a man he became, who witnessed both learned and unlearned, the fame of him so ran.

            Now for to tell of Roland and of Oliver that were worthy, how they were brought to the Sultan by the King of Baldas. The Sultan sorely questioned them what their names were. Roland nothing hid: “Sir Roland and Sir Oliver, nephews to King Charles of France, that worthy king and emperor, that now are taken by misfortune to be prisoner here in your tower.”

            “Ah, Oliver, are you who hastily destroyed my son, and Roland you are his friend that so often has annoyed me? To Mahound I make a vow here that tomorrow before I do eat you shall both be slain together and you both shall lose your lives.”

             Then said maid Floripas: “My father so dear, you should be advised in this case how and in what manner my brother who was taken to prison may be delivered because of these two knights’ sake that be in prison here with you. Therefore I counsel you, my father dear, to have mind of Sir Ferumbras. Put them in your prison here until you have better space so that you have my brother again for them that you have here, or certainly else he would be slain that is to you so beloved and dear.”

            “Ah, Floripas, bless you, your counsel is good; I would not leave my noble son—so Mahound give me speed—for all the realm of heathen Spain that is so broad and large. Call forth my jailor Bretomayne that he have of them [i.e., the prisoners] this charge: ‘Cast them in your deep prison, give them no food nor drink, chain them fast that they not sleep, for good days are gone.’”

            Then they were cast in the deep prison; every time the sea came in, the murky water went to their chin. The salt water grieved them sorely; their wounds did sorely smart. Hunger and thirst grieved them yet more, it went yet more near their heart. Who may live without food? They had none for six days, nor drink could they get, but looked upon hard stone.

            So on a day, as God willed it, Floripas went to her garden to gather flowers in the cold morn. She sent her maidens from her for she heard great lamentation in the prison that was nigh. She supposed, in her imagination, it was the sorry prisoners. She went near there to hear more; they wailed for lack of food. She immediately rued their situation; she thought how she might best get it to them. She spoke to her mistress Maragounde about how she could feed the prisoners. The devil from hell confound her—she would not assent to that deed but said, “Damsel, you are mad, your father did us all forbid food and drink and other goods that no man should send thither to them.”

            Floripas thought of a guile and called Maragounde immediately to the window to come a while and see there a wondrous sight. “Look out,” she said, “and see afar the porpoise play as they were mad.”

Maragounde looked out; Floripas came near and shoved her out into the water. “Go there,” she said, “The devil speed you. You shall never betray my counsel. Whoso will not help a man in need must die an evil death.”

            She took with her two maidens. To Britomayne she went her way and said to him that she must go to visit the prisoners that day and said, “Sir, for love of all, let me see your prisoners. I will give you both gold and gloves and it shall be in secret.”

Britomayne, that cruel jailer, answered to her: “Damsel, if I did so, then were I worthy to be slain. Hasn’t your father charged me to keep them from every person? And yet you will see these traitors. I will go tell him immediately.”

            He began to turn to go to file the complaint about Floripas. She pursued him as fast as she could go to give him hard grace. With the club that she caught with good will she gave him such a stroke that the brains started out of his head then. She went forth to her father and said, “Sir, I tell you I saw a sight that was loath to me—how the false jailor fed your prisoners and how a promise was made when they should be freed; therefore I slew him with a mace. Dear father, forgive me.”

            “My daughter dear, who is so noble, I now make you the warden of them. Look here that sorrow ever be new until Ferumbras is delivered.”

            She thanked her father full oft and took her maidens and forth she went to the prison; she hied her quickly. She opened up the prison door and said, “Sirs, who are you that make this unruly moan? Tell me what you lack for we are now all alone.”

            Then spoke Roland with heavy mood to Floripas who was both gentle and generous and said, “Lo, we two captives here must die for lack of food. Six days have come and gone since we were locked in this prison. No food nor drink have we had to comfort our heavy mood. But, would God of most might, the Sultan let us out  to fight with all his host and to be slain in the field immediately. To murder men for lack of food—it is a great shame in a king, for every man needs must eat or else he may do nothing.”

            Then said Floripas with mild words, “I would fain you were here now, from harm I would shield you and give you food with right good cheer.” She let down to them a rope that was tied fast above. She and her maidens drew thereupon until they had them up at last. She led them, both Roland and Oliver, into her dear chamber that was well prepared for them and gave them there a good meal. And when they had eaten all their fill, a bath was ready for them; thereto they went full fair and after to bed with right good cheer.  Now Floripas’ chamber is their prison, without the Sultan’s knowing they were full merry in that dungeon, for no man knew of them.       Now we will let them be and make merry until God send them good deliverance. After the time that they were taken, we will speak now how Charles, the King of France, called forth Sir Guy and said, “On my message shall you therefore make ready to bid the Sultan send me my nephews both and the relics of Rome also, or I shall make him so angry he will not know what to do. And by that God that has made me, I shall leave him neither tower nor town. This bargain shall so dearly be paid for despite his God Mahound.”

            Duke Neimes of Bavaria started up then and said, “Sir, have you no mind how the cursed Sultan Laban does kill all messengers? You have lost enough; do not lose Oliver and Roland unnecessarily.”

            “By God, you shall go with him for all your great broad land.”

            Then Ogier the Dane, that worthy man said, “Sir, be not angry, for he speaks truly.”

            “Go you then, By God, you shall ever be so loath.”

            “Ah, Sire,” said Bery Lardeneys, “You shall see them never more.”

            “You go forth at this same time or you shall repent it full sore.”

            Fulke Baliante said to the King, “Do you wish to lose your barons?”

            “Certainly this is a wondrous thing; you go also—you  shall not choose.”

            Aleroyse rose up immediately and began to speak to the King, “What are you thinking, sir?”

            “Go forth with them also.”

            Miron of Brabant spoke a word and said, “Sir, you may do your will. Don’t you know how that cruel lord will kill your barons?”

            “Go forth also, Sir Dasaberde [Useless] or I shall make you soon, for you are afraid of all things, yet you are neither hurt nor taken.”

            Bishop Turpin kneeled down and said, “Liege Lord, mercy.”

            The King swore at him by St. Simon: “You go also; in haste make yourself ready.”         Bernard of Prussia, that worthy knight said, “Sir, advise yourself better; set not your barons so lightly. You may have need of them yet.”

            “You shall go also for all your boasts. Have done and make you ready. Of my need give you no care.”

            Bryere of Montdidier, that bold marquis was not afraid to speak to him. He told the King sharply that his wit was not worth a leek: “For anger will you send your barons to that tyrant that slays all men? For that end do you bring your Twelve Peers to death.”

            The King was angry and swore in the hall by Him that bought him with His blood: “You shall all go as my messenger, be you ever so angry or mad.” They took their leave and forth they went; it availed not to speak to him again. I pray God give them speed.

            In God’s name let them pass, and we speak of the Sultan, how he complained of his troubles and what he might best do.

            “Sortibraunce and Brenlande,” said he, “you are full of wise counsel. How shall I avenge myself against King Charles and in what way? He burns my towers, and my cities and burghs he leaves not one. He destroys my men, my land, my fiefs. Thus shall it not long go. And yet I grieve most of all that he has made Ferumbras renounce his faith. Therefore I ask my counselors how they may best remedy this situation. I would prefer that he should be slain than he should become a Christian hound or be rent and slain by wolves, by Mahound mighty of dignity.”    Sortibraunce and Brenlande answered and said, “We shall give you good counsel. If you will follow promises, it shall profit you while you live. Take twelve knights of worthy deeds and send them to Charles with a message. Array them in royal clothing for your honor. Bid Charles to send your son to you and leave your land in all haste or else you will hang him from a tree as high as any ship’s mast.”

            “Now by Mahound,” said Laban, “this counsel is both true and good.”

            He wrote his letters in haste, the knights were called to go therewith, that they take them to Charles quickly and charge him upon life and limb. They ride forth toward Mantrible in a meadow fair and green where they met with Charles’ ten messengers. Duke Neimes asked them what they intended to do and said, “Lords, whence come you and whither are you headed; tell us this.”

            “From the worthy Sultan,” he then said, “we ride to Charles with a message. Evil tidings we shall tell him from Laban that is lord of Spain. Farewell, fellows, we may not dwell.”        “Abide,” said Guy, “and turn again. We will speak with you before you go, for we be messengers of his. You shall all wait, so God bring me to bliss.”

            Immediately they pulled out their swords and smote about them until the heathens were laid down; they received many a sore clout. They smote off their heads; all each took one in his lap. Whatsoever befall, to the Sultan will they go until they come to Agremore; they stop for no worldly thing. Immediately they found the Sultan there at his meal proudly sitting and that maid fair dame Floripas and fourteen princes of great price and King Lukafere of Baldas that was bold, hardy and wise.

            Doughty Duke Neimes of Bavaria told his message to the Sultan and said, “God that made heaven so clear, save King Charles so bold and confound Laban and all his men that believe in Mahound and give them evil ending—Amen. Tomorrow long ere it be evening, he commands you upon your life to send him his nephews home and the relics of Rome without strife or else get an evil end. Twelve lords met us on our way; they said they came straight from you. They made it both bold and gay—their  heads here you may see. They said they would go to Charles to tell him evil tidings. Look here at all their heads; their souls be in hell.”

            “Oh,” said Laban, “what may this be? To suffer this rebuke among all my knights thus here from you at mealtime in my own hall. To Mahound mighty I make a vow: you shall all ten be hanged immediately after I have eaten enough in the presence of all my men.”

            Then Floripas answered and said, “My father dear, by my counsel you shall not do so until you have your barons all together that they may see what is the best way to deliver my brother Sir Ferumbras and afterward if that is what you wish you may give them full evil grace.”

             “Gramercy daughter, you speak well! Take them into your guard. Fetter them fast in iron and steel and set them in strict guard. Thus was I never rebuked before now. Mahound mighty give them sorrow! They shall be flayed and hanged on a bough ere long time tomorrow.”           

            Floripas took these messengers and led them up into her tower there they found two of their fellows. They thanked thereof God of honor. Then said Duke Neimes of Bavaria, “We now be glad men to find Roland and Oliver in good health and of good cheer.” They kissed each other with glad heart and thanked God of his grace, and each told the other how they had sped and how they came into that place held by maid Floripas herself.

            “God keep her in honor for thus has she brought us hither all twelve to dwell in her own bower.” Then they washed and went to eat and were served well and fine of such goods as they might get of venison, bread and good wine; they were glad and well at ease. The Sultan knew nothing. After they slept and took their ease of no man then they cared. 

            On the morrow Floripas, that generous maid, to Duke Neimes spoke in game: “Sir gentle knight,” then said she, “tell me what is your name?”

            “Why do you ask me, my dear lady, my name?”

            “For he who spoke with such bold cheer to my father yesterday in his hall, be not you the Duke of Burgundy, Sir Guy, nephew unto the King Charles so free?”

            “No, certainly lady, it is not I; it is yonder knight you may see.”

            “Ah, I have loved him many a day and yet I know him not, for his life I do all that I may cheer you with deed and thought. For his love will I be christened and leave Mahound’s faith. Speak to him now for me as I may trust you, and but will he grant me his love, whatever you ask for here, by Him that is almighty above, you shall receive it full dear.”

             Then went Duke Neimes to Sir Guy and said, “This lady loves you; for your love she grants us all mercy and will be baptized, if you shall take her as your wedded wife, for all of us she may save.”

            “By God,” said Guy, “that gave me life, I will never have her. I will never take any woman unless Charles the King gives me her. I promised him, as I was a true man, while I live.”             Then spoke Roland and Oliver, certifying him of their misfortune, telling him of the perils that they were in, for to take this lady to his wedded wife. “Unless you help in this need, we be in great danger. Almighty God shall give you your reward, else come we never out hence.”

Thus they entreated him to and fro; at last he said he would. They called forth Floripas then, who brought forth a cup of gold full of noble mighty wine and said, “My love and my lord, my heart, my body, my goods are all yours,” and kissed him with those words, and, “Sir,” she said, “drink to me as the custom is of my land and I shall drink again to you as my worthy husband.” They hugged and kissed both together and made great joy and game, and so did all that were there; they made full merry.

Then spoke Floripas to the bold barons and said, “I have armor enough; therefore I tell you what to do for your valor. Tomorrow when my father is at his supper, you shall come in all at once. Look you spare for none for fear; slay and break both back and bones. Prove yourselves knights of hardiness. There is no help but in this way. Then must you show your prowess and win this castle in this way.” They said it was all well said and glad they were of this counsel.

Their armor was laid forth to assail the Sultan at supper.

King Lukafere prayed the Sultan that he would give him license to go to the prisoners to see the manner of their presence. He gave him leave, and he went forth up to Floripas’ tower. To spy was his intent to accuse them against honor. When he came, he found the door fast shut. He smote thereon with his fist that the bar began to break. He wanted an argument.

“Who are you?” said Floripas. “Who makes such a scene here?”

“I am King Lukafere of Baldas. The Sultan sent me hither, in faith, to see his prisoners and talk with them  by the fire and speak of deeds of arms.”

Then said Duke Neimes, “You are welcome to us prisoners here. What is your will, now tell you, for we be men of feeble cheer.”

“I would know of Charles the King, what man he is in his country and what demeanor he has and of what things he reckons most of his dignity.”

Duke Neimes said, “An emperor and king he is of many a land of cities, castles, and many a tower; dukes, earls, barons bow to his hand.”

“But tell me, fellow, what do you do in the afternoon and what is the custom of your house until men to supper shall go?”

“Sir, some men joust with spear and shield, and some men carol and sing good songs, some shoot with darts in the field, and some play at chess.”

“You be ignorant of good sport. I will teach you a new game. Sit down here in a group and better mirth you never saw.”

He took a thread from pole with a needle fastened thereon and thereupon a live coal. He had every man blow upon it. Duke Neimes had a long beard. King Lukafere blew even to him, but that game he had never learned. He burnt the hair of Neimes’ beard to the skin. Duke Neimes then grew angry, for he had burnt his beard so white; to the chimney he went forth and caught a brand to smite him. He smote him so both his eyes burst out. He cast him into the fire all hot, for truthfully he had a right good clout. And with a fire fork he held him down until he was roasted to coals in every part. His god Mahound had his soul. Floripas bade him well warmly.

“Sirs,” then said Floripas, “all of you listen to me. This Lukafere of Baldas was a lord of great power and my father’s friend.  I tell you in truth he will inquire after him immediately and therefore arm yourself well.”

Floripas went in as the custom was to her father at supper time. No man spoke a word of King Baldas nor no man knew of his sharp pain. The Twelve Peers armed themselves well with swords drawn and with eager cheer while the Saracens were drinking the wine and sitting all at their supper.

They hit the Sultan and all his barons and attacked wonderfully fast. They slowed down all that were in the hall and made them sorely afraid. Oliver eagerly pursued Laban with drawn sword in his hand. He leapt out the window upon the salty sea beach, and he escaped away from him. But woe was he therefore that he went away with limb to work them more sorrow. Roland then came running and asked where was Laban. Oliver answered him moaning and said how he was gone. Then they emptied the courts, and slew those that would stay, and drew the bridge and tied it fast, and shut the gates that were so wide. 

Laban who had escaped with the tide had it hard before he came to land. He was all astonished and bewildered, for sorrow he wrung both his hands and made a vow to Mahound of might he would that city win and never go thence by day nor night for foe, for friend, nor for kin: “Then the traitors will I hang on a gallows high outside the gate and my daughter that great whore shall be burnt there.”

To Mantrible he sent immediately after men and good tents and engines to throw with stones and good armor manifold. The siege he did lay about on every side of that city. They began to gather to the wall with engines to break the towers so great.

Then said Floripas, “Good Lords, you be besieged in this tower; as you be men of might and courage, prove yourselves here to save your honor. The tower is strong—dread you nothing—and food and drink we have plenty. Charles will not leave you unsought, trust you well all to me. There we go sup and make merry, and you take all your ease and from thirty maidens here of Asia the fairest of them you choose. Take your sport and prove yourselves knights when you shall have done for tomorrow when the day is light you must go to the walls and defend this place with casts of stone and with shots of arrows and with spears. My maidens and I shall bring good weapons so everyone of us shall bear their part.”

On the morrow the Sultan made assault upon them that were within and certainly in them there was no fault for of them they may not win. Their shots cast were so hard, they dared not approach the wall. They drew them backward; they were beaten over all. King Laban turned to his tents again. He was near made with rage.

He cried to Mahound and Apollo and to Termagaunte that was so cruel and said, “You gods, you sleep too long; awake and help me now, or else I may sing a sorrowful song and of moaning right enough. Know you not well that my treasure is all within the wall? Help me now, I say, therefore or else I forsake you all.”

He made great lamentation; his gods began to shake, so that comforted him, supposing they did awake. He called Brenlande to ask counsel what was best to do and what things might him most avail to win that city soon: “You know well that all my treasure is there in their keeping and my daughter that great whore God give her an evil ending.”

“Sir,” he said, “you know well that tower is wondrous strong. While they have food for meals they can keep it full long. Send to Mantrible, your chief city, that is the key of this land that no one passes without your special order to Alagolofure, that strong giant that is warden of that pass’s bridge. So Charles and his men shall not rescue then Agremore. Then they shall be famished and shall rue full sore.”

“You have Mahound’s blessing and mine for your advice. Espiarde, my messenger, in haste you must speed to my city Mantrible to deliver my message there to Alogolofre that horrible giant. Bid him his charge well learn and tell him how that the last day ten false traitors of France passed by that same way by his fault, charging him upon his head to lose that no man by the bridge be it rain snow or frost but he lay down his head.”

Espiarde sped on his way until he came to Mantrible to seek the giant where he lay on the bank beside the dam and said, “The worthy Sultan that is lord and sire of all Spain upon your life commands you immediately to deserve better your hire. The last day you let here pass ten traitors of  France—God give you evil grace and them also much misfortune! He charged you upon life and death to keep this place securely while in your body has breath let no enemy pass by.”

 Alogolofure rolled his eyes and smote with his ax on the stone and swore by Termagaunte and Apollo that never should one pass unless he smote off his head and brought it to his lord Laban, or he would never eat bread nor ever look more on man. He drew over twenty four chains that no man could pass neither for love nor for fear no time by day nor by night: “Go tell my lord I shall keep it on pain of my great head shall no man go nor creep unless he be taken or dead.” This giant had a long body and a head like a leopard. He was devilishly strong; his skin was black and hard. He was born in Ethiopia of the kind of Ascopartes; he had tusks like a boar and a head like a leopard.

Laban would not forget to renew the assault. He would not relent in winning the tower. They blew their trumpets loudly; every man went to the wall with a pickax or with bow. They made an assault to throw down the walls. But those within slew three hundred of the Saracens. They wrought upon them both care and woe upon their fighting they wondered.

Then Laban cried to them on high, “Traitors, yield to me. You shall be hanged bye and bye upon a high gallows tree.”

Then spoke Floripas to the Sultan and said, “You false tyrant! Were Charles to come your pride would be done enough cursed miscreant. Alas that you escaped by the windows upon the beach. That your neck had broken in two. God send you shame.”

“Ah, great whore! God give you sorrow, you venomous serpent. You shall be drawn tomorrow by wild horses and on this hill be burnt that all men may warned by you that cursed be of  your kind. And your love shall be hanged, his hands bound behind him.”

He called for Mavone, his engineer, and said, “I charge you to throw stones from a mangonel [a siege engine] to yon tower and break it down on three.”

Mavone set up his engine with a stone of six hundred weight that went as even any line and smote a battlement right down. Woe was Roland and Oliver that that misfortune had fallen and so were all the Twelve Peers.

But Floripas comforted them all. “Sirs,” she said, “be of good cheer. This tower is strong enough. He may cast twice or thrice before he hit again there for truth I tell you.”

Marsedage, the royal king from Barbary, rode in rich clothing, coming upon a sturdy steed, crying to them upon the wall, “Traitors, yield you here. Else I shall burn you all, by mighty god Jupiter.”

Guy saw that he came near; he threw a dart full even to him. He smote him through the heart and the liver. Dame Floripas laughed with loud voice and said, “Sir Guy, my love so noble, you can well hit the point. He shall make no boast in his country, God give him sorrow.”

When Laban heard of this misfortune, he was a sorry man. He trumpeted his retainers for relief, for he meant to cease at that time. He carried Mersadage, King of Barbary, to his tent and buried him by right of Saracenye with burning fire and rich ointment and sang the Dirge of the Koran—that is the bible of their faith—and everyone wailed his death for seven nights and seven days.

Then the Sultan, truthfully to say, sent three hundred knights to keep the bridge and the path out of that castle so that none of them should venture out to fetch food. He charged them to watch well all about that they might die from famine; thus they kept the place seven days until all their food might be spent.

Then spoke Roland with heavy mood words lamentable, when he saw the ladies so white of face without bread on their table and said, “Charles, you courteous king, why have you forgotten us so long? This is to me a wondrous thing. I think you do us great wrong to let us die for lack of meat closed thus in a dungeon. Tomorrow we will assail for what we can get by God that bears the crown.”

Then said Floripas, “Sirs, dread not for hunger that may befall; I know a medicine to comfort you all. I have a girdle in my chest; whoso gird themselves with it hunger nor thirst shall never harm him, though he went seven years without.”

“Oh,” said Sir Guy, “my love so true, may you be blessed. I pray that you will show it to us all that we may save our souls.”

She went and set it forth immediately; they all proved its virtue and everyone placed it about them. It comforted all as they had been at a feast. So they were all well at ease; thus were they refreshed both most and least who were before in great distress. Laban wondered how they might endure without food for so long. He remembered Floripas’s cincture and its power so strong. Then he knew well that through famine he might never win them.

He called to him false Mapyne for he knew many a false trick. He could scale castles and towers and over the walls go. “Mapyne,” he said, “for my honor, you must have in mind that whore, my daughter, has a girdle; from hunger it saves them all that they may never be won that evil might befall her. Can you get me that girdle by craft a thousand pounds then shall I give you so that it be not left there but bring it hither to me. You can see by night as well as any man does by day; when they be in their beds full still then go forth thither right in your way. You shall find it in her chamber, you may be sure thereof.”

“Sir, thereto will I bind me if my life may endure.” This false Mapyne went forth by night into this tower—God give him an  evil ending—into  Floripas’s bower. He went in by a chimney; quietly he sought it there. He found it and gird it about him and after full dearly he paid for it.  For by the light of a lamp there Floripas began to see him, all afraid out of her sleep for fear but loudly then she began to cry and said, “A thief is in my bower; he will rob or slay me.”

Therewith came Roland from his tower to learn of her woe. He found Mapyne beside her bed standing amazed for fear. To the window he led him and there he smote off his head and cast him out into the sea. He was not aware of the girdle. But when he learned he had the girdle, then he had sorrow and care.

Floripas went to the chest and saw her girdle was gone. “Alas,” she said, “all is lost. Sir, what you done? He has my girdle about him. Alas, bad luck! A rebel hound does often great harm, how we all are beguiled.”

Then spoke Roland with bold cheer, “Damsel, be not afraid, if any food be about this hold we will win it with dint of sword. Tomorrow we will go out and determine how it will be. I make a vow to God alone: we will assail them, and if they have any food we will part it from them or else they shall get strokes, by God and Saint Mary my patron.”

In the morn before the lark’s song they rode to the Saracens. Duke Neimes and Ogier were ordered to keep the place. The ten others of the Twelve Peers went out to try their luck. They found them in log huts sleeping; of them they had no thought. They slew down those at hand. Mahound did not avail them. In short time the end was made. The ten slew three hundred there. They found food, they were glad, as much as they could bear home. Duke Neimes and Ogier who kept the tower keep them in their prayers. They thanked God high of honor that they sped so that day. They availed the bridge and let them in. Floripas and her maidens were glad and so were they that were within, for they all had great hunger. They ate and drank right enough and made mirth ever among.

But of the Sultan Laban we now speak, how his song was of sorrow. When tiding came to him that his men were slain and how they had stuffed themselves also with food in again for sorrow he became near mad. He called Brenlande and Sortibraunce and told them with angry mood of his hard luck: “Give me remedy, you are chief of my council, that I may be avenged of them. It shall you both avail. O you gods, you fail at need, that I have honored so long. I shall burn you, so might I speed, in a fair fire full strong. I shall never more in you believe but renounce you all. You shall be burnt this day before eve that evil might befall you.”

The fire was made; the gods were brought to be cast therein. Then all his council sought him before he made that error and said, “Sir, what have you done? Will you forsake your gods? Then vengeance shall come upon you with sorrow, woe, and retribution. You must make an offering for your offense for dread of great vengeance with oil, milk, and frankincense by your priests’ ordinance.” Then he did bear them in again and made to them due offering; the priests absolved him of that sin.

Then he called his counselors Brenlande and Sortibraunce, asking how he might destroy the Twelve Peers, that Mahound give them misfortune. They could no more thereon but assail again the tower. With twenty thousand they go and begin a new siege to break down the wall with mattocks and with pickaxes until four hundred of them all lay slain in the ditch. So strong was the cast of stone the Saracens drew back until it was high noon. Then began they again to shake. Then they who were within ran out of stones; they did not know what to do. Then they were in great fear.

Then said Floripas, “Be not dismayed. You shall be helped soon. Here are enough silver vessels,” she said, “that shall prove good weapons.” She set them forth; they cast out fast all that came to hand. Of silver and gold vessels they made waste that was down upon the sand. When they saw that royal sight, they left all their deed and for treasure they do fight whoso might it lead away. Then the Sultan grew near mad seeing this treasure despoiled that was to him so dear and good lay in the ditch thus fouled. He bade that they should leave and turn again in haste. He went home to his tent then with great sorrow and mourning mood.

When he came before his gods he cried as he were mad, “Oh false gods that you be, I have trusted too long your mood. We would prefer to suffer death than live this life here longer now. I have almost lost breath. Twelve false traitors overled me and destroy all that I have. You false gods, the devil you speed. You make me now for to rave you do fail me at my need.”

In ire he smote Mahound that was of gold that he fell down to the ground as he had been dead. All their bishops cried out and said, “Mahound, your mercy!” And down to the earth they laid well low, howling and weeping sore, and said, “Sir Sultan, what have you done? Vengeance shall fall upon you unless you repent here immediately.”

Said he, “I show you all.” They made a fire of frankincense and blew horns of brass and cast in milk honey for the offense before Mahound’s face. They counseled Laban to kneel down and ask forgiveness in that place. And so he did and had pardon through prayer and special grace.

When this was done, then said Roland to his eleven fellows, “Here may we not long hold land, by God that is in heaven. Therefore we send to Charles the King that he will rescue us soon and certify him of our dire straits, if you think it is to be done. Richard of Normandy, you must go—I hold you both wise and clever. And we shall tomorrow as still as stone the Saracens awake before you go. And while we must be busy in our work, steal you away in the dark and speed you fast.”

On the morrow after the day they were armed full right they rode forth quietly in their way, God govern them most of might. Floripas and her maidens kept the tower and wound up the bridges on high and prayed God to keep her paramour, the Duke of Burgundy, Sir Guy. She prayed to Roland before he went to take good heed of him that he were neither taken nor killed as he would win her love. Onward they set with strong heart and all of them were sorely afraid. While they were all dismayed, Richard meanwhile rode away. He hied himself fast to Mantrible to pass if he could. Thither he came at last—God keep him for his great might. His twelve fellows busied themselves so that they slew many Saracens. Guy slew the King of Babylon then, the Babylons drew him off his horse with force and bound his hands full fast. They began to teach him a new game, for deep in prison they cast him.

But Laban would see him first to know what he was. “Tell me your name now,” he said, “Your song shall be ‘alas’.”

“Sir,” he said, “my name is Guy; I will never forsake it. It would be a great villainy to take another name.”

“O false traitor,” said Laban, “My daughter, that great whore, has forsaken me and taken you; therefore you shall be hanged.”

Roland made a great moan; it would no other be. They began to go homeward. He saw there three hundred Saracens that kept the pace at the bridge’s end armed well in good array that they should not go in but be taken or slain that day.

Roland said to his fellows, “All of you be of right good cheer, and we shall make them all afraid before we go to our supper.” There began a bold fighting of ten knights that time against three hundred men. Then was Durendal set to work. Forty heathens Roland slew. He spared neither the learned nor unlearned, and Floripas laughed thereof. The shot, the cast was so strong, Sir Bryere was slain there with darts, javelins, and long spears. There were twenty on him. Roland and Oliver were woeful; they slew all that they met. Then all the Turks fled for fear, they dared no longer stay, and said they were no men but devils broken out of hell: “Three hundred of us against their ten. Our lord Mahound then kill! Forty of us here escaped and we be hard pressed; whoso will of them jape, I hold him worse than mad.”

Roland and Oliver made great woe and sorrow and took the corpse of Sir Bryere and buried it on the morrow. Floripas asked Roland then, “Where is my love, Sir Guy?”

“Damsel,” he said, “he is gone and therefore woeful am I.”

“Alas!” she said, “then I am dead now Sir Guy my lord is slain; I shall never more eat bread until that I may see him again.”

“Be still,” said Roland, “and have no care. We shall have him full well. Tomorrow thitherward we will travel with spear and steel shield; unless we bring him to this tower, believe me else no more with victory and great honor or they shall pay for it sorely.”

On the morrow when the day was clear, Laban ordered Guy to be hanged. He called forth Sir Tampere and bade him to make a gallows tree: “Set it before the tower that like whore may see him, for by lord Mahound of honor this traitor shall be hanged there. Take with you three hundred knights from Ethiopia, India and Ascopart that be bold and hardy to fight with spears, swords, javelins and darts, lest those cowards come skulking. Look to it that each of them have such a clout that they never eat more stews.”

They went forth with Sir Guy who was bound fast as a thief until they came full nigh to the tower. They reared the gallows in haste. Roland perceived their doing and said, “Fellows, to arms! I am full glad of their coming; they shall not help their charms.” Out the nine rode with good speed toward them all. Floripas with her maiden took good heed, beholding over the tower wall. They met first Sir Tampere—God give him evil end! Such a stroke Oliver lent him he cleaved him down to through the skin. Roland bore the King of India there with his spear from his steed. It passed behind his back four foot. He bled from his heart. He caught the steed—he was full good and the sword that the King had—and rode to Guy where he stood and bound on him and bade him be glad and gird him with that good sword and leap upon the steeds. “Be you,” he said, “not afraid but help us bravely at this need.” They soon slew one hundred of the best of them all. The remnant fled fast away that evil might befall them. Roland and his fellows were glad that Guy was safe indeed. They thanked God that they had been given such grace to speed.

As they went toward the tower, a little beside the highway they saw coming with great vigor one hundred upon a laye. There was Costroye the admiral with great plenty of food and the standard of the royal Sultan. He rode toward Mantrible with four chariots with meat and bread and two others with wine of diverse colors—yellow, white and red—and four packs of fine spices. Then Roland said to Oliver, “With this military force must we fight to have part of their goods thereof we need, by my thrift.”

“How, sirs,” he said, “God you see. We pray you for your courtesy grant me part of your goods, for we may neither borrow nor buy.”

Then spoke Costroye the admiral, “You get none here. If you challenge, it must be dearly bought.”

“O gentle knights,” said Oliver, “he is no fellow that will have all.”

“Go forth,” said the standard bearer, “you get none here, your part shall be very small.”

“Forsooth,” said Roland, “and fight we will. Who may get, get the better. To share with the needy, it is a good skill, and so you shall, by my faith.” He rode to the admiral with his sword and gave him such a clout no wonder though he were afraid both his eyes burst out. Oliver met with the proud standard bearer; he smote him through the heart that he had for his reward that wound began to sorely smart. They were slain that would dare stay for battle. They forsook their part immediately.

They drew forth those goods straight into the tower. There was no man that dared assail them for dread of their vigor. Floripas received them with honor and thanked Roland many times, that she saw Guy her paramour, that she would him repay. They ate drank and made merry. They who sorely needed before such goods as God had sent them now enough for four months and more.

Floripas said to Roland then, “You must choose you a love of all my maidens, white as swan.”

Said Roland, “That is a sin; our faith will not allow us with you until you be made Christian nor of your play we will not feel, for then we indeed be cursed.”

Now shall you hear of Laban; when tidings came to him, then he was a full sorry man. When he heard how his goods were taken and how his men were slain and how Guy was safely gone from them, he defied Mahound, Apollo, Jupiter, Ascarot and the Koran also. He commanded a fire to be prepared with pitch and brimstone to burn. He made a vow with all his might: “They shall be cast therein.”

The priest of their law thereon cried out for dread and said, “Alas, what will you do? Then must you speed the worse.” Then the Sultan made a great oath and swore by his throne and though they were never so loath they should be burnt everyone. Then came the bishop Cramadas and kneeled before the Sultan and charged him by the high name Satan to save his gods everyone: “If you burn your gods here, you win their malice. Then will no man do you cheer in field, city, nor in town.”

The Sultan was astonished then and began him sorely to repent of the folly that he began and else had he been lost. A thousand bezants he offered to them by counsel of Sir Cramadas to pleas with gods then for fear of hard grace.

The Sultan commanded every day to assail the tower with cast, but they within gave not an egg for they worked in vain.

Now we speak of Richard of Normandy that was sent with message, how he sped. When he went to Mantrible he found the bridge sorely chained; twenty four were overdrawn. Alagolofure stood there before who had slain many a man. When Richard saw there was no gate but by Flagote the river he would not let his message. His horse was both big and good; he kneeled beseeching God of his grace to save him from mischief. A white hind he saw in that place that swam over the cliff. He blessed him in God’s name and followed the same way; the gentle hind that was so tame that on the other side began to play. He thanked God many times Who had sent him comfort. He quickly hied with his message to Charles his lord.

But I shall tell you of a traitor who was called Ganelon. He counseled Charles for his honor to turn homeward again. He said, “The Twelve Peers  be all dead and you spend your good time in vain and therefore you shall see them no more certainly.” The King believed what he said and homeward he began to travel. He was sorely dismayed about his Twelve Peers; his heart grew full of care.

Richard of Normandy came riding. King Charles saw him and he commanded to stop every man. “What tidings?” said the King to Richard, “how fare all my fellows?”

“My lord,” he said, “God knows full hard for they be besieged within stone walls, waiting for your help and your succor as men that have great need. For Jesus’ love King of honor thitherward you speed.”

“Ganelon,” said the King, “now I know your treason. I shall pay you back, by Saint Fremond, when this journey is done.”

The King turned again and all his host with him toward Mantrible and grant him favor and peace. Richard told him of that place, how strong it was held with a giant foul of face, the bridge with manifold chains. The river was both deep and broad; there might no man ride over. “The last time I rode over by miracle I passed that tide. Therefore, sir, I shall tell you how you must govern here. In yonder woods you must dwell privately in this manner, and twelve of us shall array ourselves in guise of foreign merchants and fill our packs with grass and hay to pass the bridge currents. We shall be armed under the coat with good swords well girded. We must pay tribute, certainly, or else over we may not start, but when the chains be let down over there for to pass, then will you come on in haste to that same place. When I see it is time for you to come, then shall I blow my horn. Look you be ready all and some for that you well know.”

They went forth in that array to Mantrible that city. Alagolofure began to say to them,

“Fellows, where are you going?”

Richard spoke to the giant and said, “To the Sultan with diverse chaff as true merchants; we purpose for to go to show him furs and gold embroidery from imperial Persia. We will give you tribute to get special license for us to pass.”

“You get no license from me. I am charged that no one shall pass, for ten villains of France were here—God give them evil grace! They passed this way to Agremore; they have done the Sultan great harm. They have won his tower and his treasure and yet hold they it, I expect. Wherefore, fellows, I arrest you all until I know what you be.”

Sir Focarde brought out his sword; he began to rage well sore and said, “Fie on you, Saracen! For all your great hard head, you shall never drink water nor wine; by God, you shall be dead!”

He smote at him with eager cheer, but he gave thereof right  nothing. “Alas,” said Richard, “ you encumber us here, by God that has bought me dearly.” The chains were still all fast; the giant grew near mad.

Richard blew his horn in haste that was both shrill and good. King Charles hied him immediately toward the bridge so long. The giant fought with them alone, he was so hard and strong. With a club of oak he fought that was bound well with steel. He killed all that he ever snatched, so strong was his attack. Richard hit him with a bar of brass that he grabbed at the gate. He broke his legs, he cried “alas,” and fell all checkmate. He began to yell loudly; they heard him yell throughout the city like the great devil of hell and said, “Mahound, now help me!” Four men caught him there, so heavy he was and long and cast him over into the river. He would choose whether to swim or drown.

Immediately they burst all the chains that were drawn over the bridge. The Saracens ran to the wall; many Christian men were there slain.

Then came forth Dame Barrok the bold with a scythe large and keen and mowed down as thick as sheep in the fold who came before her. This Barrok was a giantess and she was wife to Astrogote. She caused the Christians great distress; she felled down all that she smote. No man dared to wait for her scythe; she grinned like a devil from hell. King Charles with a shot of arrow that time smote her—so that she began to yell loudly—over the front throughout the brain. That cursed fiend fell down dead. Many a man she had slain there. Might she never after eat more bread!

Charles entered the first wall with fifteen knights and no more. Of his host he took no regard; he thought his host had entered also. The Saracens ran to the gate and shot it wondrously fast. Charles’ men came too late. Then Charles was sorely aghast. Between two walls he was shut to defend himself if he can. The Saracens met him; he was then in great peril.

Then Ganelon saw the King and the gates fast locked. There might no man to him win, so was he fast within locked. To his friends he began to speak and said, “The King is dead and all Twelve Peers also. On pain,” said he, “of losing my head, let us hie toward France, for I will be crowned king. I shall well reward you all, for I will not spare anything.” Immediately they assented to Ganelon; they saw there was no better advice. The French men drew themselves all away; they thought the King had been killed.

Then Ferumbras with retainers came to seek the King and saw them turn, every man; he thought it was a wondrous thing. “Where is the King?” asked Ferumbras.

Said Ganelon, “Within the walls; you shall never more see his face.”

“God give you an evil fall! Turn again, you traitor, and help to rescue your lord, you sirs, all for your honor.”

They turned again with those words.Ferumbras with ax in hand mightily broke up the gate—no iron band could outlast him. He had nearly come too late; the King had fought so long within that he could not continue more. There were many about him; his men were wounded sorely. Ferumbras came with good speed; he made the Saracens flee. He rescued the King at his need; forty Saracens he soon killed. They ran away in every direction; they dare not anywhere stay. In a short time their pride was fallen; they caught many a sore clout.

The city was won that same day and every tower therein of Mantrible that was so gay for all their subtleties full of treasure and riches of silver gold made by Saracens of rich array and royalty. Richard, Duke of  Normandy, found two children seven-months-old—they were fourteen foot long. They were Barrok’s sons so bold, begotten by Astrogote. The King had great joy of them; they were both heathen; therefore he bade they be christened. He called one of them Roland and the other Oliver, for they should become men of hand. He was fully pleased to keep them.They might not live: their dam was dead, they could not keep them forth. They could neither eat butter nor bread, nor no men was to them worthy. Their dam’s milk they lacked; there they died for lack of their dam. King Charles made heavy cheer and a sorry man was he then.

The King ordered immediately the city to be governed by the worthies of them everyone that were of war best learned. Duke Richard of Normandy was made chief governor and two hundred with him in his company to keep the bridge and tower.  Then he rode forth to Laban with his host and Sir Ferumbras. A spy ran quickly to the Sultan and told him all that case—how Charles was come with his host and Mantrible he had won: “Alogolofure is slain for all his boasts; this game was evilly begun.”

When Laban heard of his coming, he thought his heart would break: “I shall never be without mourning until I be avenged of him.” He commanded his clarions to be blown to assemble all his host. His council he called to him and told how King Charles had won Mantrible and slain his men—“and desires to disinherit me and proudly commands me to flee or drive me out of this country. I marvel much of his pride, by Mahound most mighty! Yeah, my son with him does ride—I condemn him to the devil. But I be avenged of them both and hang them from a tree—to mighty Mahound I make my oath—I shall never be joyful. Therefore I charge you in all wise that they be taken or slain; then shall I  pain them in my way and have them all be flayed alive.”

On the morrow when it was day, King Charles was in the field before Agremore in rich array on a steed with spear and shield. Floripas lay on the tower on high and knew the banner of France. To Roland she began to quickly cry good tidings of good fortune: “King Charles is coming and Ferumbras;  their banners both I do see with all their host yonder in that place. They all be welcome to us.” Roland and Oliver readied themselves for to ride. And their fellows all together to Charles they go that time.

Laban come forth with all his military force. Saracens that were full fierce—Turks, Indians, and Arabians—yeah, and of the Ethiopians like devils from hell. There were strong guards set by order of diverse battle. When they met together, they began to assail one another sorely. There all the Saracens were hewn; Roland slew many one. They lay so thickly dead on  that scarcely might men ride or go.

King Charles met with Laban and bore him down off his steed. He lighted down and seized him then. He thought to pay him his reward. He bought out Montjoye with good will and would have smitten off his head; Ferumbras prayed him to wait still to christen him before he were dead. The Saracens saw Laban taken. They fled away full fast. They dare no longer mastery make, they were so sorely aghast. The Christians chased them to and fro as a greyhound does the hare. Three hundred escaped with much woe; to Belmore they began to travel.

King Charles led Laban into the city of Agremore, and when he came there, a full sorry man was he. His daughter welcomed him with right good cheer. He looked on her grimly as he were madly angry  and said, “Fie on you, strange whore; Mahound confound you!”

 Charles said, “Hereof no more, but let us now be merry.”

“Sir,” she said then, “you are welcomed to this tower. Here I present to you, as I can, relics of great honor that were won at Rome and brought into this hall. That game was begun in evil; it since has rued us all.” King Charles kneeled down to kiss the relics so good and bade there an orison to that Lord that died on the Cross and thanked Floripas with all his heart that she had saved his company and helped them out of pain’s smart and kept the relics so free.

King Charles called Bishop Turpin and bade him order a great vat to baptize the Sultan in: “Look what he shall be called. Unarm him fast and bring him near. I shall be his godfather. Fill it full with water clear, for he shall be baptized. Make him naked as a child; he must plunge therein for now must he be meek and mild and wash away his sin.”

Turpin took him to the font. He smote the bishop with a brand and gave him an evil brunt. He spit in the clear water and cried out on them all and defied all that was Christian that evil might befall them: “You two, whore serpentine and false cursed Ferumbras, Mahound give them both evil endings and almighty Satan! By you came all my sorrow and all my treasure forlorn. You both be hanged before tomorrow; in a cursed time when you were born.

Ferumbras said to the King, “Sir, you see it will not be; let him take his ending for he loves not Christianity.”

“Duke Neimes,” said Charles then, “Look that the execution be done. Smite off his head; God give him woe. And go we to eat immediately.”

It was done as the King commanded. His soul was fetched to hell to dance in that sorry land with devils that were full fierce. Dame Floripas was baptized then and her maidens all and to Sir Guy married. The barons honored her all. All the land of Spain King Charles gave to them to divide between the two, Ferumbras and Guy, and so they lived in joy and game, and they were both brothers. In peace was both the same; there dared no man defy them.

King Charles turned home again toward his country. He charged Sir Bryere of Brittany to be his treasurer to keep the relics of great price and his other treasure and bring them safe to Paris there to stay in storage. He said, “Farewell, Sir Ferumbras, you and Guy, my dear friend, and your wife Dame Floripas, for I will now go to France. Both you together be as brethren. No man you need dread; be you never angry with one another but each help the other in time of need. Visit me in France when you have time. God send you the better grace in age to do me comfort.”

They took leave of the King with full heavy cheer and turned again, both moaning and weeping. King Charles with the victory sailed to Montpellier and thanked almighty God in glory that He had saved his Twelve Peers and defended him from the Saracens, to have the higher hand, for all their strength and their engines, to save the relics of Rome. At our Lady of Paris he offered the Cross so noble, the Crown he offered at St. Denis, at Boloynes the three  Nails. All his barons were glad of him; they gave him great presents, for he had so well sped they did him great reverence.

The King had well in mind the treason of Ganelon; soon he did send for him to give him an evil end: “You unnatural traitor,” said the King, “do you not remember how often you have betrayed me, false Ganelon? Therefore you shall be hanged aloft. Look that the execution be done that through Paris he be drawn and hanged on high on Mount Fawcon, as is fitting for traitors by law, that all men shall take heed of the death traitors shall feel that assent to such falsehood. How the wind their bodies shall cool.”

Thus Charles conquered Laban, the Sultan of Babylon, who destroyed and won rich Rome and all the broad land of Spain. . . . .  And give us joy of the best that read of their great deeds.