THE SCENE: Suger, the Abbot of St. Denis, recounts the horrifying murder of Guy of La Roche-Guyon and its tragic aftermath with the vividness of a modern True Crime author.
THE TEXT: At dawn one Sunday, William found his chance for treachery when he mingled with the devout people who were fathering very early in the church, which accessible from Guy’s residence at an opening in the rock. But, wearing the mail of a knight beneath his cape, he met there with a handful of traitors for a purpose altogether different from theirs. While the other were at prayer, he pretended to pray for a short time while he kept an eye on the entrance where he would force himself on Guy. And in that very doorway where Guy was hurriedly entering the church, William rushed upon him with drawn sword and raged about like a madman with his usual depravity in the company of his most despicable companions. He struck, sacrificed, and slew the unsuspecting man who was smiling as if he had not even felt the sword.
Struck dumb at seeing this, his noble spouse tore her cheek and hair with wifely fury. She ran over to her husband and, caring nothing for death, tumbled down and covered him with her body: “Me,” she said, “Behead me, you vilest of butchers, I am the miserable wretch who should die.” Having thrown herself on top of her husband, she received the blows and wounds inflicted by the swordsmen: “Dearest spouse, what wrongs did you do these men? What is this madness? You people are complete maniacs.”
Twisting her by the hair, they dragged her away struggling as best she could, for she was stabbed and wounded over nearly her whole body. While the murderers raged and roam about gnashing their teeth, the woman lay on the floor and, lifting up her piteous head, looked upon the mutilated body of her husband. In an outburst of love which her weakness hardly allowed, she slid along like a snake, dragging her own completely bloody body up beside the lifeless corpse. As if he were alive, she gave him as many sweet kisses as she could and broke out into a sorrowful song, so paying her respects to his sorrowful soul: “Why did you leave me behind, dearest husband?” she cried. “Has your wonderful fidelity towards me been so rewarded?” She said these things and collapsed in exhaustion, abandoned by her fury. And no one could pull the totally dead man away from the half-alive woman, covered all over as they were with the same blood.
– The Deeds of Louis the Fat, Suger, 12th Century AD
