and
blew; the water ran through the joints of his hauberk, and wetted his
ermine pelisse beneath. His beard swayed, whiter than flax, his long
moustache quivered; until dawn he lamented his nephew, and the twelve
peers, and all his next-of-kin who were dead. From the gate at morn a
Saxon, King Dyalas, defies the old man, swearing that he will wear his
crown in Paris. The Emperor has the gate opened, and sallies forth
to meet him. They engage in single combat; the old Emperor kills the
Saxon's horse, disarms him, and only spares his life on condition of his
embracing Christianity and yielding himself prisoner.

"The rest of the poem has comparatively little interest. Old Naymes in
turn kills his man--a brother of Guiteclin--in single combat, Dyalas,
the Emperor's new vassal, 'armed in French fashion,' performs wonders
in honour of his new allegiance. Finally the Herupese come up, and of
course overthrow the Saxons. An abbey is founded on the field of battle,
which Sebile enters; Dyalas, baptized as 'Guiteclin the convert,'
receives charge of the kingdom, and the Emperor returns, bearing with
him the bodies of Baldwin and Berard; after which 'well was France in
peace many a year and many a day; the Emperor found not any who should
make him wroth.'"

Fastrada: a Legend of Aix-la-Chapelle

Fastrada, we are told, was the fourth wife of the Emperor Charlemagne
and the best beloved. Historians have judged that the lady was by no
means worthy of the extraordinary affection bestowed upon her by her
husband, some maintaining that she practised the arts of sorcery,
others crediting her with political intrigues, and still others roundly
asserting that she was not so virtuous as she should have been.

History failing to account for Charlemagne's devotion to his fourth
wife, the task has devolved upon tradition. Once upon a time (so runs
the tale), when Charlemagne dwelt at Zurich, he had a pillar erected
before his house, and on the top of the pillar a bell was placed, so
that any one desiring justice had but to ring it to be immediately
conducted before the Emperor, there to have his case considered.

One day, just as Charlemagne was about to dine, the bell was rung
loudly. He at once dispatched his attendants to bring the importunate
claimant into his presence. A moment later they re-entered with the
assurance that no one waited outside. Even as they spoke the bell rang
again, and again the attendants withdrew at the bidding