afterwards in what may be excusably taken to be the real beginning of the poem :

"A king who wears our France's crown of gold
Worthy must be, and of his body bold;
What man soe'er to him do evil wold,
He may not quit in any manner hold
Till he be dead or to his mercy yold.

Else France shall lose her praise she hath of old.
Falsely he's crowned: so hath our story told."

Then the story itself is plunged into in right style.
When the chapel was blessed at Aix and the minster
dedicated and made, there was a mighty court held.
Poor and rich received justice; eighteen bishops, as
many archbishops, twenty-six abbots, and four crowned
kings attended; the Pope of Rome himself said mass;
and Louis, son of Charlemagne, was brought up to the
high altar where the crown was laid. At this mo-
ment the people are informed that Charles feels his
death approaching, and must hand over his kingdom
to his son. They thank God that no strange king is
to come on them. But when the emperor,
after good
advice as to life and policy, bids him not dare to take
the crown unless he is prepared for a clean and valiant
life, the infant (li enfes) does not dare. The people
weep, and the king storms, declaring that the prince
is no son of his and shall be made a monk. But
Hernaut of Orleans, a great noble, strikes in, and pre-
tending to plead for Louis on the score of his extreme
youth, offers to take the regency for three years, when,
if the prince has become a good knight, he shall have
the kingdom back, and in increased good condition.

Charlemagne, with the singular proneness to be victim of any kind of "confidence trick" which he shows. throughout the chansons, is turning a willing ear to this proposition when William of Orange enters, and, wroth at the notion, thinks of striking off Hernaut's head. But remembering

"Que d'ome occire est trop mortex péchiés,"

he changes his plan and only pummels him to death with his fists, a distinction which seems indifferential. Then he takes the crown himself, places it on the boy's head, and Charles accommodates himself to this proceeding as easily as to the other proposal.

Five years pass and it is a question, not of the mere choice of a successor or assessor, but of actual death. He repeats his counsels to his son, with the additional and very natural warning to rely on William. Unluckily this chief, who is in the earlier part of the chanson surnamed Firebrace (not to be confounded with the converted Saracen of that name), is not at the actual time of the king's death at Aix, but has gone on pilgrimage, in fulfilment of a vow, to Rome. He comes at a good time, for the Saracens have just invaded Italy, have overthrown the King of Apulia with great slaughter, and are close to Rome. The Pope (the "Apostle") hears of William, and implores his succour, which, though he has but forty knights and the Saracens are in their usual thousands, he consents to give. The Pope promises him as a reward that he may eat meat all the days of his life, and take as many wives as he chooses,—a method of

1

guerdon which shocks M. Gautier, the most orthodox as well as not the least scholarly of scholars. However, the Holy Father also wishes to buy off the heathen, thereby showing a truly apostolic ignorance of the world. Galafré, the "admiral," however has a point of honour. He will not be bought off. He informs the Pope, calling him "Sir with the big hat," that he is a descendant of Romulus and Julius Cæsar, and for that reason feels it necessary to destroy Rome and its clerks who serve God. He relents, however, so far as to propose to decide the matter by single combat, to which the Pope, according to all but nineteenth century sentiment, very properly consents. William is, of course, the Christian champion; the Saracen is a giant named Corsolt, very hideous, very violent, and a sort of Mahometan Capaneus in his language. The Pope does not entirely trust in William's valour, but rubs him all over with St Peter's arm, which confers invulnerability. Unfortunately the "promontory of the face" is omitted. The battle is fierce, but not long. Corsolt cuts off the uncharmed tip of William's nose (whence his epic surname of Guillaume au Court Nez), but William cuts off Corsolt's head. The Saracens fly: William (he has joked rather ruefully with the Pope on his misadventure, which, as being a recognised form of punishment, was almost a disgrace even when honourably incurred) pursues them, captures Galafré, converts him at point of sword, and receives from him the offer of his beautiful daughter. The marriage is

1 "Parlez à moi, sire au chaperon large."-C. L., 1. 468.

about to be celebrated, William and the Saracen princess are actually at the altar, when a messenger from Louis arrives claiming the champion's help against the traitors who already wish to wrest the sceptre from his hand. William asks the Pope what he is to do, and the Pope says "Go":

"Guillaumes bese la dame o le vis cler,

Et ele lui; ne cesse deplorer.

Par tel covent ensi sont dessevré,
Puis ne se virent en trestot leur aé."

Promptly as he acts, however, he is only in time to repair, not to prevent, the mischief. The rebels have already dethroned Louis and imprisoned him at St Martins in Tours, making Acelin of Rouen, son of Richard, Emperor. William makes straight for Tours, prevails on the castellan of the gate - fortress to let him in, kicks-literally kicks-the monks out of their abbey, and rescues Louis. He then kills Acelin, violently maltreats his father, and rapidly traverses the whole of France, reducing the malcontents.

The

Peace having been for the time restored at home, William returns to Rome, where many things have happened. The Pope and Galafré are dead, the princess, though she is faithful to William, has other suitors, and there is a fresh invasion, not this time of heathen Asiatics, but led by Guy of Germany. Count of Orange forces Louis (who behaves in a justifying the rebels) to accompany him with great army to Rome, defeats the Germans, takes his a single combat with Nor, though he has

a

fainéant emperor's part in Guy, and is again victorious.

to treat his pusillanimous sovereign in an exceedingly cavalier fashion, does he fail to have Louis crowned again as Emperor of Rome. A fresh rebellion

breaking out in France, he again subdues it; and strengthens the tottering house of Charles Martel by giving his own sister Blanchefleur to the chickenhearted king.

ends the

"En grant barnage fu Looys entrez ;

Quant il fu riche, Guillaume n'en sot gré,"

poem with its usual laconism.

There is, of course, in this story an element of rough comedy, approaching horse - play, which may Comments on the not please all tastes. This element, howCouronnement. ever, is very largely present in the chansons (though it so happens, yet once more, that Roland is accidentally free from it), and it is especially obvious in the particular branch or geste of William with the Short Nose, appearing even in the finest and longest of the subdivisions, Aliscans, which some have put at the head of the whole. In fact, as we might expect, the esprit gaulois can seldom refrain altogether from pleasantry, and its pleasantry at this time is distinctly "the humour of the stick." But still the poem is a very fine one. Its ethical opening is really noble: the picture of the Court at Aix has grandeur, for all its touches of simplicity; the fighting is good; the marriage scene and its fatal interruption (for we hear nothing of the princess on William's second visit to Rome) give a dramatic turn: and though there is no fine writing, there is a refreshing directness. The

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