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"I wager that one of them will be enough to kill the bear as truly as my name is Spatachair." "Come, tie the bear to one of the beams, old mountebank, and let us begin." "I told you, if your beast is killed, I shall pay whatever sum you may say, royally and without chaffering." "Illustrious King, have pity on a poor man." "Enough, enough chain up the bear to one of the beams, and be done."
The three dear friends of Chram, still dearer friends of pillage, of murder and of rape, accompany the royal personage, do you not hear? Their names are Imnachair, Spatachair, and the "Lion of Poitiers," the renegade Gaul, who, like so many others of his stripe, rallied to the conquering Franks.
"My friends!" cried Chram in his turn but without being able to make himself heard, "it is folly, it is stupidity to slay one another in this wise. Imnachair! Spatachair! calm our men; and you, Neroweg, calm yours instead of exciting them!" Vain words; they dropped unheard; neither Neroweg nor the rest of the leudes did or cared to listen to words of conciliation.
At the Prince's right rode the "Lion of Poitiers," the hardened criminal who, together with Imnachair and Spatachair, both of whom rode close behind him in the second rank, constituted a trinity of perdition ample enough to damn Chram, had not Chram been damned in his very mother's womb, as the priests express it.
Grumbling and blaspheming between his teeth, Chram finally and slowly alighted from his horse and motioned his two favorites Imnachair and Spatachair, both of whom took the hint, to do as he did, and drop down upon their knees.
"Accompanied by his worthy friend Spatachair the Lion of Poitiers, the renegade Gaul of whom mention is made in the written narrative that I delivered to you, died insane Chram proceeded to Kando's camp and proposed to him that he join his Breton troops to the Franks in order to make head against his father, Clotaire.
He filled his cup and drained it at one draught, looking askance at the royal favorite. "Come, Count Neroweg," said Spatachair, "there is mercy for every sin; some other day you will treat us to a choicer feast and you will promise your wife to preside at the banquet." "And by the faith of the Lion of Poitiers, I promise not to chuckle her under the chin too freely."
You will have the Vagre led out of the ergastula after dark, and taken to Spatachair, one of my favorites. Leave the rest to me. To-morrow we shall say to the bishop: 'The Vagre has fled' why do you laugh, Count Neroweg?" "At that Vagre who will be thinking that he is to gain twenty gold sous, and who will receive instead a hundred blows with an iron bar, and then be quartered."
"My favorite, Spatachair, who holds that language to you, Neroweg, is also of a humorous disposition." "Prince, meseems you select very gay, and perhaps too bold a set of friends." "Neroweg, you hide your wife from us it is your right. We shall hunt her up in her nest that is our right. There is no lock or key safe against a good thief. The hunt is up."
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