CCXXVII

     The Emperor sitteth in Aix again,
     With Gan, the felon, in iron chain,
     The very palace walls beside,
     By serfs unto a stake was tied. 
     They bound his hands with leathern thong,
     Beat him with staves and cordage strong;
     Nor hath he earned a better fee. 
     And there in pain awaits his plea.

     CCXXVIII

     ’Tis written in the ancient geste,
     How Karl hath summoned east and west. 
     At La Chapelle assembled they;
     High was the feast and great the day—­
     Saint Sylvester’s, the legend ran. 
     The plea and judgment then began
     Of Ganelon, who the treason wrought,
     Now face to face with his Emperor brought.

     CCXXIX

     “Lords, my barons,” said Karl the king,
     “On Gan be righteous reckoning: 
     He followed in my host to Spain;
     Through him ten thousand Franks lie slain
     And slain was he, my sister’s son,
     Whom never more ye look upon,
     With Olivier the sage and bold,
     And all my peers, betrayed for gold.” 
     “Shame befall me,” said Gan, “if I
     Now or ever the deed deny;
     Foully he wronged me in wealth and land,
     And I his death and ruin planned: 
     Therein, I say, was treason none.” 
     They said, “We will advise thereon.”

     CCXXX

     Count Gan to the Emperor’s presence came,
     Fresh of hue and lithe of frame,
     With a baron’s mien, were his heart but true. 
     On his judges round his glance he threw,
     And on thirty kinsmen by his side,
     And thus, with mighty voice, he cried: 
     “Hear me, barons, for love of God. 
     In the Emperor’s host was I abroad—­
     Well I served him, and loyally,
     But his nephew, Roland, hated me: 
     He doomed my doom of death and woe,
     That I to Marsil’s court should go. 
     My craft, the danger put aside,
     But Roland loudly I defied,
     With Olivier, and all their crew,
     As Karl, and these his barons, knew. 
     Vengeance, not treason, have I wrought.” 
     “Thereon,” they answered, “take we thought.”

     CCXXXI

     When Ganelon saw the plea begin,
     He mustered thirty of his kin,
     With one revered by all the rest—­
     Pinabel of Sorrence’s crest. 
     Well can his tongue his cause unfold,
     And a vassal brave his arms to hold. 
     “Thine aid,” said Ganelon, “I claim;
     To rescue me from death and shame.” 
     Said Pinabel, “Rescued shalt thou be. 
     Let any Frank thy death decree,
     And, wheresoe’er the king deems meet,
     I will him body to body greet,
     Give him the lie with my brand of steel.” 
     Ganelon sank at his feet to kneel.

     CCXXXII