Chapter CCLXXXV

Cried Pinabel:--"Tierri, surrender thou!
Thy vassal I will be in faith and love,
And to thy pleasure will I yield my wealth;
But let the King forgive Count Ganelon!"
Tierri replied:--"Thy offers all are vain;
Vile treason were it such a pact to make;
But God shall judge us and make plain the right."
Aoi.

CCLXXXVI.

Then Tierri spake:--"I hold thee, Pinabel,
As Baron true, great, strong, of handsome mold;
Thy peers acknowledge thee as valiant knight;
Well, let this combat cease, between the King
And thee a covenant I will strive to make.
On Ganelon such justice shall be done
That future ages shall record the doom."
They grasp again their swords and hew
Each other's gold-encrusted helm with rage
So rash that sparkling fires spurt through the air.
No power will now disjoint the combatants:
The death of one can only close the strife.
Aoi.

CCLXXXVII.

No braver man than Pinabel.--Such blows
He deals on Tierri's helmet of Provence,
That the sparks fly in showers, and, falling, set
The grass ablaze. Then aiming at his foe
His keen-edged brand, down to the brow cuts through
His helm; the blade glides down across his face,
And plows his right cheek with a deep red gash;
Unto his stomach is the haubert rent,
But God protects him, and averts his death.
Aoi.

CCLXXXVIII.

Tierri, on seeing blood gush from his brow
And tinge the grassy field, strikes Pinabel
On his steel-burnished helmet, and cuts through
To the nose-plate. His head is cleft in twain
And gushes forth the brain. This fatal blow
Gives Pinabel his death, and ends the fight.
The French exclaim:--"O wondrous work of God!
Full right it is that Ganelon be hanged
With all his kin who sureties were for him!"
Aoi.

CCLXXXIX.

Tierri had won, and on the battle-field
The Emperor Carle arrived with an escort
Of forty Barons,--Naimes the Duke, Ogier
De Dannemarche, Geffrei d'Anjou, Willalmes
De Blaive.--In close embrace the King has pressed
Tierri, and with his mantle's sables wiped
The warrior's face; then lays his furs aside
And on his shoulders others are arrayed.
Meanwhile the knight, by friendly hands disarmed,
On an Arabian mule is placed, and so
This valorous Baron full of joy returns
To Aix.--Amid the place they all dismount,
And now the sureties must abide their doom.
Aoi.