AN ALPINE CLIMB

ANOTHER

THIS King Peter of Aragon1, was a man of magnificent heart and a strong man armed and skilled in war . . . as may be seen also from this example which I here subjoin. On the confines of Provence and Spain rises an exceeding high mountain called by the men of those parts Mont Canigou [Canigosus], and which we may call Mount Murky [Caligino­sus]. This is the first mountain which seafarers mark at their coming, and the last which they see at their departure, after which they see no more land. On this mountain no man dwells, nor had any son of man dared to climb it on account of its enormous height and the difficulty and travail of the way; but around its roots men dwell. When therefore Peter of Aragon had purposed to climb this mountain, wishing to learn by the sight of his own eyes what was on its summit, he called two knights who were his familiar friends, and whom he loved with all his heart; to whom he expounded that which he proposed to do. They rejoiced and promised him not only to keep his purpose secret, but also never to leave him. Where­fore they took provisions and all fit weapons, and (leaving their horses at the foot of the mountain, where are the dwell­ings of men) they began to climb little by little on foot. When, therefore, they had climbed far higher, there they began to hear horrible and most dreadful thunderclaps: moreover, flashes of lightning burst forth, and tempests of hail came down, whereat they were all dismayed and, falling to the ground, were as it were bereft of life for fear and expectation of what had come upon them. But Peter, who was brave and more vigorous than they, and who wished to fulfil the desire of his heart, comforted them, lest they should faint amid those afflictions and terrors, saying that this labour should yet redound to their honour and glory. So he gave them to eat, and himself ate with them; and, after this rest from the weariness and travail of the way, he exhorted them again to go up valiantly with him. Thus he said, and thus they did, many times over. But at last these two companions of King Peter began to faint, so that they could scarce breathe for utter weariness of the way and for fear of the thunderbolts. Then Peter asked them to await him there until the morrow at eventide; and then, if he came not back, to descend the mountain and go whithersoever they would. So Peter went up alone with great travail of body; and, having come to the top of the mountain, he found there a lake, into which he cast a stone. Then a monstrous dragon of loathly aspect issued therefrom, hovering round in the air until the face of heaven was darkened with the vapour of his breath; after which Peter came down to his companions and told them fully of all that he had seen and done. And, as they went down from that mountain, he bade them publish this abroad to whomsoever they would. Methinks that this achievement of Peter of Aragon may be reckoned with those of Alexander, who would exercise himself in many fearful deeds and works, that he might earn the praise of posterity.

1 Pedro III, of Aragon, died in rz85. He was the rival of Charles of Anjou, and is placed by Dante in the Valley of Flowers (Purg. vii, 112-­125).

(Coulton II, p.5-6)