‘The good King of Aragon, on his good charger, is come to Muret, and has raised his banner and laid siege to the town with many rich vassals whom he has called from their fiefs. He has brought with him the flower of Catalonia, and many great knights from Aragon. They think that no one will offer resistance to them, or dare to attack them. He sends a message to the husband of his sister at Toulouse to join him with his barons and his army and his warlike men. He (the king) is ready to restore their fiefs to the Count of Cominges and all his relations; after that he will go to Beziers, and from Montpelier to Rocamador he will not leave a single crusader in castle or tower. All shall die a miserable death. The brave Count, when he hears the message, is well pleased, and goes straight to the Capitol.’ The next tirade[28] relates to the deliberations of the Count of Toulouse with the chief magistrates of his city, whom, in accordance with the freedom enjoyed by the burgesses of Provence, he has to consult on this important occasion. It further describes the departure of the army, and winds up with a truly epical prognostication of their tragic fate. ‘They arrive before Muret, where they were to lose all their own; so much beautiful armour and so many valiant men. Great pity it was, so help me God, and the whole world felt the loss.’ ‘The whole world felt the loss, believe me I speak truth. Paradise itself was shaken and damaged and all Christendom shamed and downcast. But listen, sirs, how the thing came to pass. Assembled are at Muret the good King of Aragon and the Count of St. Giles, with his barons, and all the citizens and commonalty of Toulouse. They mount their stone-throwing machines, and batter the walls of Muret on all sides. They enter the new town all together, and the French who are there are so hard pressed that they have all to seek shelter in the castle. At once a messenger is sent to the king. “Sir King of Aragon, know for true that the men of Toulouse have done so well that, by your leave, they have taken the city. They have destroyed the houses, and driven the French into the castle.” When the king hears this he is not well pleased. He goes to the consuls of Toulouse and admonishes them to leave the men of Muret in peace. “We should be foolish,” he says, “in taking the town, for I have had a letter—a sealed message—to say that Simon de Montfort will to-morrow enter the town, and when he is once enclosed in it, and when my cousin Nunos has arrived, we will attack the town on all sides, and take all the French and crusaders captive.”’ The troops vacate Muret accordingly, and retire to their tents. They have hardly sat down to dinner when Simon, with a band of chosen knights, appears and at once enters the city. ‘The river was shining with their helmets and their blades as if it were made of crystal. Never, by St. Martial, were so many brave vassals seen among so small a band.’