Gan was received with great honor by Marsilius.  The king, attended by his lords, came fifteen miles out of Saragossa to meet him, and then conducted him into the city with acclamations.  There was nothing for several days but balls, games, and exhibitions of chivalry, the ladies throwing flowers on the heads of the French knights, and the people shouting, “France!  Mountjoy and St. Denis!”

After the ceremonies of the first reception the king and the ambassador began to understand one another.  One day they sat together in a garden on the border of a fountain.  The water was so clear and smooth it reflected every object around, and the spot was encircled with fruit-trees which quivered with the fresh air.  As they sat and talked, as if without restraint, Gan, without looking the king in the face, was enabled to see the expression of his countenance in the water, and governed his speech accordingly.  Marsilius was equally adroit, and watched the face of Gan while he addressed him.  Marsilius began by lamenting, not as to the ambassador, but as to the friend, the injuries which Charles had done him by invading his dominions, charging him with wishing to take his kingdom from him and give it to Orlando; till at length he plainly uttered his belief that if that ambitious paladin were but dead good men would get their rights.

Gan heaved a sigh, as if he was unwillingly compelled to allow the force of what the king said; but unable to contain himself long he lifted up his face, radiant with triumphant wickedness, and exclaimed:  “Every word you utter is truth; die he must, and die also must Oliver, who struck me that foul blow at court.  Is it treachery to punish affronts like these?  I have planned everything,—­I have settled everything already with their besotted master.  Orlando will come to your borders—­to Roncesvalles—­for the purpose of receiving the tribute.  Charles will await him at the foot of the mountains.  Orlando will bring but a small band with him:  you, when you meet him, will have secretly your whole army at your back.  You surround him, and who receives tribute then?”

The new Judas had scarcely uttered these words when his exultation was interrupted by a change in the face of nature.  The sky was suddenly overcast, there was thunder and lightning, a laurel was split in two from head to foot, and the Carob-tree under which Gan was sitting, which is said to be the species of tree on which Judas Iscariot hung himself, dropped one of its pods on his head.

Marsilius, as well as Gan, was appalled at this omen; but on assembling his soothsayers they came to the conclusion that the laurel-tree turned the omen against the Emperor, the successor of the Caesars, though one of them renewed the consternation of Gan by saying that he did not understand the meaning of the tree of Judas, and intimating that perhaps the ambassador could explain it.  Gan relieved his vexation by anger; the habit of wickedness prevailed over all other considerations; and the king prepared to march to Roncesvalles at the head of all his forces.