5 As is well known, before swords were made with shell and stool hilts, the two guards combined with the handle and blade formed a cross.  Bayard, when dying, raised his sword to gaze upon this cross, and numerous instances, similar to that mentioned above by Queen Margaret, may be found in the old Chansons de Geste.—­M.

The gentleman called John, seeing that his master’s life was ebbing away as he uttered these words, thought to aid him, and took him into his arms, together with the sword which he was holding.  But a Turk who was behind them cut through both his thighs, whereupon he cried out, “Come, Captain, let us away to Paradise to see Him for whose sake we die,” and in this wise he shared the poor Captain’s death even as he had shared his life.

The Turk, seeing that he could be of no service to either of them, and being himself wounded by arrows in fifteen places, made off towards the ships, and requested to be taken on board.  But although of all the eighty he was the only one who had escaped, the Captain’s traitorous comrade refused his prayer.  Nevertheless, being an exceeding good swimmer, he threw himself into the sea, and exerted himself so well that he was at last received on board a small vessel, where in a short time he was cured of his wounds.  And it was by means of this poor foreigner that the truth became fully known, to the honour of the Captain and the shame of his comrade, whom the King and all the honourable people who heard the tidings deemed guilty of such wickedness toward God and man that there was no death howsoever cruel which he did not deserve.  But when he returned he told so many lies, and gave so many gifts, that not only did he escape punishment, but even received the office of the man whose unworthy servant he had been.

When the pitiful tidings reached the Court, the Lady-Regent, who held the Captain in high esteem, mourned for him exceedingly, as did the King and all the honourable people who had known him.  And when the lady whom he had loved the best heard of his strange, sad, and Christian death, she changed the chiding she had resolved to give him into tears and lamentations, in which her husband kept her company, all hopes of their journey to Jerusalem being now frustrated.

I must not forget to say that on the very day when the two gentlemen were killed, a damsel in the lady’s service, who loved the gentleman called John better than herself, came and told her mistress that she had seen her lover ir a dream; he had appeared to her clad in white, and had bidden her farewell, telling her that he was going to Paradise with his Captain.  And when the damsel heard that her dream had come true, she made such lamentation that her mistress had enough to do to comfort her. (6)