CHAPTER XII. THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF ANGOULAFFRE.
ANGULAFFRE was stretched on the ground, surrounded by his companions inarms when the surgeons came to dress his wounds, he rejected their aid.
"Go to the Evil One, vile concocters of drugs! My soul is not foolishenough to dwell in so dilapidated a mansion as that which I have tooffer now. All your remedies will but drive her away the sooner. Comehither, Alcalde of Valentia, Corsablix, Margariz--all of you--come roundme, that I may die while looking on the faces of friends. Tell to KingMarsillus the manner of Murad's death--and mine. Tell him that: with mylast breath I called for vengeance on Roland. I bequeath to you a hatredso fierce and strong, that it cannot but survive me. I leave all myproperty, without exception, for the furtherance of vengeance. Ifbribery can help you, spare nothing: there is no human integrity thatcould withstand the sight of the wealth you have to offer. Swear to meyou will spare no means of hastening the downfall of this accursed one,and I shall die more happy."
"Rely upon us," said Priamus. "We inherit your hatred; and whether it beten years, or whether it be twenty years hence, rely on it, this Rolandshall perish by our hands!"
"We will hew him into as many pieces as he has given you wounds," saidGarlan the Bearded.
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"His death shall become a tradition," added Abysm, the favouriteof Marsillus. "I swear to you, people shall speak of it when therecollection of this petty Charles shall be extinct."
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"You had better implore the aid and protection of the Prophet inyour undertaking, for he who has vanquished me is not to be lightlyovercome," said Angoulaffre.
"If we have to unpeople Nubia, Persia, Egypt, the Atlas, the Caucasus,Scythia, and Spain, to swell our forces," said Ecremis of Vauterne, "assure as Mahomet is greater than St. Peter, Charles and his knights shallperish ere long."
"Before a year elapses we will sleep at Cologne," said another.
"Enough, babblers and boasters!" said Angoulaffre, who felt the chillsof death approaching; "do your best to carry back your carcasses wholeto Spain, and if Mahomet grants you that favour, renew there thesepromises. In the meantime, take care of your precious hides into-morrow's tourney. Death grasps me by the throat--farewell! Ah, dog ofa Roland!"
These were the last words of the Governor of Jerusalem.
Sixty Saracens, marching in two files, bearing thirty spears betweenthem (a soldier holding each end of a spear), extemporised a litter, onwhich the dead body of the giant was placed.
Two hours before, he had entered the lists, mounted on his steed,followed by a brilliant suite of kings, emits, and alcaldes, andpreceded by a band of barbarous music; proud of his strength, relyingon his own bravery, boasting, and threatening. But if Heaven does notfavour the cause of the lion, it not unfrequently happens that the Iambgets considerably the better of him.
The enraged Garlan.