They come to Aix, halt and
dismount
therein.
Chanson de Roland
It cannot be that they be sundered,
Nor make an end, without one man be dead.
AOI.
CCLXXXV
He's very proof, Pinabel of Sorence,
Tierri he strikes, on 's helmet of Provence,
Leaps such a spark, the grass is kindled thence;
Of his steel brand the point he then presents,
On Tierri's brow the helmet has he wrenched
So down his face its broken halves descend;
And his right cheek in flowing blood is drenched;
And his hauberk, over his belly, rent.
God's his warrant, Who death from him prevents.
AOI.
CCLXXXVI
Sees Tierris then 'that in the face he's struck,
On grassy field runs clear his flowing blood;
Strikes Pinabel on 's helmet brown and rough,
To the nose-piece he's broken it and cut,
And from his head scatters his brains in th' dust;
Brandishes him on th' sword, till dead he's flung.
Upon that blow is all the battle won.
Franks cry aloud: "God hath great virtue done.
It is proved right that Guenelun be hung.
And those his kin, that in his cause are come. "
AOI.
CCLXXXVII
Now that Tierris the battle fairly wins,
That Emperour Charles is come to him;
Forty barons are in his following.
Naimes the Duke, Oger that Danish Prince,
Geifrei d'Anjou, Willalme of Blaive therewith.
Tierri, the King takes in his arms to kiss;
And wipes his face with his great marten-skins;
He lays them down, and others then they bring;
The chevaliers most sweetly disarm him;
An Arab mule they've brought, whereon he sits.
With baronage and joy they bring him in.
They come to Aix, halt and dismount therein.
The punishment of the others then begins.
CCLXXXVIII
His counts and Dukes then calls to him Carlun:
"With these I guard, advise what shall be done.
Hither they came because of Guenelun;
For Pinabel, as pledges gave them up. "
Answer the Franks: "Shall not of them live one. "
The King commands his provost then, Basbrun:
"Go hang them all on th' tree of cursed wood!
Nay, by this beard, whose hairs are white enough,
If one escape, to death and shame thou'rt struck! "
He answers him: "How could I act, save thus? "
With an hundred serjeants by force they come;
Thirty of them there are, that straight are hung.
Who betrays man, himself and 's friends undoes.
AOI.
CCLXXXIX
Then turned away the Baivers and Germans
And Poitevins and Bretons and Normans.
Fore all the rest, 'twas voted by the Franks
That Guenes die with marvellous great pangs;
So to lead forth four stallions they bade;
After, they bound his feet and both his hands;
Those steeds were swift, and of a temper mad;
Which, by their heads, led forward four sejeants
Towards a stream that flowed amid that land.
Sones fell Gue into perdition black;
All his sinews were strained until they snapped,
And all the limbs were from his body dragged.
On the green grass his clear blood gushed and ran.
Guenes is dead, a felon recreant.