Are not the conceits and turns of men beyond compare? This chauncy lord sent back to England a Cocodrillus, an evil quadruped flourishing in rivers of the East that like a duck or goose lays eggs not in water but on land. It sports a jagged tail, weak claws, and has a stiff neck so it cannot look behind. No tongue does it have, but three rows of teeth and spiteful red eyes. When prepared to eat some animal or person who approaches the stream it opens wide its mouth to roar. The Cocodrillus that Richard consigned to England escaped its warden and vanished up the river Thames, so we are told. A marvelous queer tale.
Richard surrendered his soul to God not in combat with a Saracen host but through arrogance and sloth. At Chalus castle a peasant tilling the field unearthed a hoard of gold coins with a Roman shield from centuries past and Richard being overlord of Aquitaine would have it. The petty lord would not let go. Then came Richard Lionheart to subdue and punish such insolence. Now as he went riding back and forth to inspect Chalus castle, bereft of armor except shield and helmet because the day was hot, a bolt from an arbalest struck him at the bend of the right shoulder. Physicians drew out the iron and when they had searched the wound they said he need have no concern if he looked to himself. They cautioned him to rest, to eat little.
Once the castle had been taken every defender was hanged save Bertran de Gourdon who drew the mortal shot. Being hailed before the stricken king this vassal spoke defiantly. You slew my father and you have slain my two brothers. I will endure such torment as you devise.
Richard pardoned this upstart and gave him a handful of shillings on account of the wondrous shot. They say that Bertran, as he cocked the bow, shielded himself from English archers with a frying pan. Concerning the truth of that, I have no knowledge.
Richard ignored the wisdom of his leeches. He ate or drank as usual and lay with women. From the meritorious Consolation of Philosophy we learn that he is not master of himself who binds himself with shackles of lust. Accordingly the wound commenced to wax and burn. And now his mother, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, hurried to his bedside and held him in her arms. Thus it came about in the year of our gracious Lord 1199, less than seven years after quitting the Holy Land, Richard Lionheart gave up the ghost. His body they laid in Fontevrault Abbey next to the body of his father. His heart they buried in the cathedral at Rouen. His entrails lie buried at Charroux in Poitou.
As for his love, Queen Berengaria, why she did not hasten to visit while he lay dying, God knows. Long afterward, having taken the veil, she herself expired in the abbey of L’Espan.
Through the lawful covenant of things Saladin preceded King Richard in death. Beha al-Din, who understood him well, found him one day seated on a bench in the palace garden, his young children playing nearby. Saladin asked if there might be visitors outside expecting an audience. And being told of Frankish envoys, he ordered them admitted. But at sight of these foreigners with cropped hair and unfamiliar clothes one of his children began to cry. Saladin promptly dismissed the Franks, not waiting to hear what they wished to say. Next, writes Beha al-Din, he turned to me in his courteous fashion and inquired if I would eat, gesturing toward the food. As for Saladin himself, attendants brought milk-rice but he ate little, without pleasure, like one absorbed in a dream.
Bilious fever seized him. Day by day he weakened, complained of a bad memory and lassitude. On the fourth day his physicians drew blood, but the humors of his body were failing. On the sixth day Beha al-Din helped to lift him and place him on a chair with a cushion at his back. He was given some emollient to drink followed by a cup of warm water. He thought the water too hot so they prepared another, which he thought too cold. Great God, he said, does no one understand how to fix warm water? Yet he did not throw his cup at the slave who brought it.
At news of his illness the people of Damascus became alarmed. Merchants hid their property, not knowing what to expect when he should die.
On the ninth day he was unable to swallow. On the tenth day his limbs perspired copiously, seeping through mats. Twice the physicians administered enema, which seemed to relieve him and he sipped barley water. This news caused rejoicing. But when the physicians touched his body and felt it parched, withered, they gave up hope. The violence of his thirst surpassed belief. Now and again he would lose his wits. Sheikh Abu Jiafer, who remained at his bedside reading from the Koran, read aloud this passage.
He is a God beside whom there is no God. He knows both what is visible and what is invisible.
Saladin heard these words. It is truth, he answered.
He died at the hour of morning prayer, leaving one daughter and seventeen sons. Al-Daulai, a theologian, washed the corpse. Beha al-Din was invited to observe the ceremony but had not strength enough. Many citizens of Damascus came
