“It is now that the truly tragical part of the poem commences.  Charles and his host depart, the Emperor warning his nephew to be courteous, loyal, and generous, to keep true faith to his wife, yet not to spend too much time in her arms, but to beware of the Saxons.  The caution is needed, for already the two sons of Guiteclin, with one hundred thousand Russians and Bulgarians, and the giant Ferabras of Russia, a personage twelve feet high, with light hair plaited together, reddish beard, and flattened face, are within a day and a half’s journey of ‘Tremoigne,’ burning to avenge Guiteclin.  One Thursday morning their invasion is announced to the young king, who has but fifteen thousand men to oppose to them.  Sebile embraces her husband’s knees, and entreats him to send at once for help to his uncle; the barons whom he has called to counsel favour her advice.  ‘Barons,’ said Baldwin, ’I should fear the dishonour of it.  It is too soon to seek and pray for succour.  We have not yet unhorsed knights, cut arms from bodies, made bowels trail; we are fifteen thousand young men untried, who should buy our praise and our honour, and seize and acquire strange lands, and kill and shame and grieve our enemies, cleave the bright helmets, pierce the shields, break and tear the hauberks of mail, shed blood and make brains to fly.  To me a pleasure it seems to put on hauberk, watch long nights, fast long days.  Let us go strike upon them without more delay, that we may be able to govern this kingdom.’  The barons listen with an ill-will to this speech; Baldwin himself, on viewing the paynim host, is staggered at their numbers, and lets Sebile persuade him to send a messenger to his uncle.  However, with five thousand men he makes a vigorous attack on the vanguard of the Saxons, consisting of twenty thousand, and ends by putting them to flight.  On the news of this repulse the two sons of Guiteclin come out, apparently with the bulk of the army.  The French urge the young king to re-enter the city, but he refuses—­Sebile would hold him for a sleepy coward.  He kills Ferabras, unhorses one of Guiteclin’s sons.  But the disparity of numbers is too great; the French are obliged to retreat, and shut themselves up in the city.

“Meanwhile the messenger had reached Charlemagne at Cologne with the news of the renewal of the war.  Whilst all his barons are summoned, the Emperor starts in haste himself for Saxony with ten thousand men.  Baldwin was seated in his tower, looking out upon a league of hostile tents, complaining to Sebile, who ‘comforts him as a worthy lady,’ bidding him trust in his uncle’s succour.  She is the first to descry the French host and to point it out to her husband.  ‘Ah, God!’ said Charles’s nephew, ’fair Father Creator, yet will I avenge me of the pagan people.’  He goes down from his palace, and cries to his men, ’Arm ye, knights!  Charles is returned.’