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Updated: June 2, 2025
A double row of rounded oak trunks, a sort of rustic colonnade, divides the spacious hall into three compartments along its full length, reaching at one end the door of the mahl, and at the other to the count's chamber, which, in turn communicates with the apartments of Godegisele and her women. Between the two rows of pillars stands the table of the count and of the leudes, his peers.
And looking at Godegisele he added: "You look pale you seem troubled my dove. Why so pale?"
The count's terror increased amain while Morise ran out for the clerk, and Godegisele, more dead than alive with fear, clung on her knees to the beam as she felt her strength wholly leaving her. The count noticed not her distress, but also dropping on his knees smote his chest and cried: "Lord, God! Have mercy upon a miserable sinner!
Godegisele wore the costume of the Frankish women of high condition a long decolleté robe with open and flowing sleeves, and held by a scarf around her now unshapely waist.
He threw himself upon me; I tried to resist; he struck me in the face with his fist; my face was bathed in blood; pain and fright rendered me senseless, and the seigneur count violated me. I was afterwards locked up with other female slaves in the apartment of his wife Godegisele; a very gentle woman for so wicked a man. To-night, one of the leudes came for me and brought me hither on his horse.
The "Lion of Poitiers" earned his name by reason of his carnivorous taste for rapine and flesh dripping blood. Seigneur count! Seigneur count Neroweg! Will you not wake up? Wake up also your wife Godegisele, who spent the night dreaming of strangled wives. Be up and doing. Let Godegisele array herself in the most resplendent jewels of your fourth wife Wisigarde! Hurry, hurry, seigneur count!
"Yes, madam, it is his step." "Oh, I am afraid remain near me!" It was Neroweg. His latest libations had thrown him into a state of almost complete intoxication. He stepped into his wife's apartment with a drunken man's unsteady foot. At the sight of their master, all the slaves rose timidly. As to Godegisele, she was in such a tremor that she was hardly able to rise from her stool.
"Justin, a cook-slave of our seigneur, the count, happened to be alone in the kitchen; on the kitchen table lay a small silver dish used by dame Godegisele, the noble spouse of our master. Peter, this other slave, entered the kitchen bringing in some kindling wood. Immediately after his departure, Justin noticed that the silver dish had disappeared.
Finally, he held her throat so tight in both his large hands that her face became violet and she was strangled. After she lay dead, he went to bed with Martine." "Morise, I fear me the same fate for myself, some day. That terrible count will yet kill me." And shuddering over her whole frame, Godegisele dropped her head upon her bosom, and her distaff fell down at her feet.
Let Godegisele don her most attractive raiment! She may be to the taste of Chram or of his favorites. He is a gracious king, an accommodating king. There is none more so. Is a woman, whether free or slave, pleasing to the eye of any friend of his, he forthwith equips his favorite with a royal diploma, by virtue of which he takes the woman that he covets. Quick, quick, seigneur count!
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