CCLXXII.

The Emperor is once more at Aix. There stands Amid the city 'fore the palace gate, In iron chains, the traitor Ganelon. His hands are fastened to a stake with thongs Of deer-skin by the sergeants who then beat His body well with staves and heavy cords. Such treatment was his true desert. He waits His coming doom, in agony of soul. Aoi.

CCLXXIII.

Written it is in ancient Geste of France That Carle then summoned men from all his lands, Who met at Aix's Chapelle. A solemn feast It was; some say the Baron Saint Silvestre's. This day began the plea and history Of Ganelon who wove the treason's plot. The Emperor bade them drag him to his bar. Aoi.