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A
.
THE SONG OF ROLAND
,
THE
SONG OF ROLAND
Done into English, in the original Ineasure
by
CHARLES SCOTT MONCRIEFF
With an Introduction
by
G. K. CHESTERTON
and a Note on Technique
by
GEORGE SAINTSBUR Y
Ma io senti' sonare un alto corno,
Tanto ch' avrebbe ogni tuon fatto fioco,
Che, contra sè la sua via seguitando,
Dirizzò gli occhi miei tutti ad un loco :
Dopo la dolorosa rotta, quando
Carlo Magno perdè la santa gesta,
Non sonò sì terribilmente Orlando.
Inferno: xxxi, 12-18.
LONDON:
CHAPMAN & HALL, LTD.
MCMXIX
I
I \.
1
.
Printed in England at
The Westminster PreSi
411a Harrow Road
London
TO THREE MEN
SCHOLARS, POETS, SOLDIERS
WHO CAME TO THEIR RENCESVALS
IN SEPTEMBER, OCTOBER, AND NOVEMBER
NINETEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN
I DEDICATE MY PART IN A BOOK
OF WHICH THEIR FRIENDSHIP
QUICKENED THE BEGINNING
THEIR EXAMPLE HAS
JUSTIFIED THE CONTINUING
PHILIP BAINBRIGGE.
WILFRED OWEN.
IAN MACKENZIE.
U Mare fustes, seignurs.
Tutes voz anmes ait Deus Ii glorius.
En Parèis les metet en seintes flurs. u
I
To P. G. B.
P HILIP, here, at the end of a year that, ending,
Spares for mankind a world that has not
spared thee ;
O'er the sole fathom of earth that may know thee,
bending
Dry-eyed, bitterly smiling, I now regard thee.
Friend-nay, friend were a name too common,
rather
Mind of my intimate mind, I may claim thee lover:
Thoughts of thy mind blown fresh from the void
I gather ;
Half of my limbs, head, heart in thy grave I cover:
I who, the soldier first, had at first designed thee
Heir, now health, strength, life itself would I give
thee.
More than all that has journeyed hither to find thee,
Half a life from the wreckage saved to survive thee.
. . * . .
Fare thee well then hence; for the scrutinous Devil
Finds no gain in the faults of thy past behaviour,
Seeing good flower everywhere forth from evil :
Christ be at once thy Judge, who is still thy Saviour,
Who too suffered death for thy soul's possession;
Pardoned then thine offences, nor weighed the
merit :
God the Father, hearing His intercession,
Calls thee home to Him. God the Holy Spirit
Grant thee rest therefore: a quiet crossing
From here to the further side, and a safe landing
There, no shore-waves breaking nor breeze tossing,
In the Peace of God, which passeth our under-
standing.
Christmas, 1918.
VI
II
To W. E. S. O.
W HEN, in the centuries of time to come,
Men shall be happy and rehearse thy
fame,
Shall I be spoken of then, or they grow dumb,
Recall these numbers and forget this name ?
Part of thy praise, shall my dull verses live
In thee, themselves-as life without thee-
vain ?
So should I halt, oblivion's fugitive,
Turn, stand, smile, know myself a man again.
I care not: not the glorious boasts of men
Could wake my pride, were I in Heaven with
thee ;
Nor any breath of envy touch me, when,
Swept from the embrace of mortal memory
Beyond the stars' light, in the eternal day,
Our two contented ghosts together stay.
19 18 .
..
Vll
Az
III
To I. H. T. M.
L IKE fire I saw thee
Smiling, ru
ning, leaping, glancing and
consuming ;
Like fire thine ardent body moving ;
Scorching and scouring the mind's waste places
Like fire: like fire extinguished.
Now in my hands
Holding thy book, these ashes of thee ;
Still fire I know thee
Gloriously somewhere burning,
Who wast so ke
n, more keenly;
Who wast so pure, more purely;
Beyond my vision,
Somewhere before God's Face,
Eternal.
.october, 1919.
Vill
Introduction
M OST of us remember reading, in the
school histories of our childhood, that
at the Battle of Hastings, Taillefer the
Jongleur went in front of the Norman Army
throwing his sword in the air and singing the
Song of Roland. They were naturally histories
of a very Victorian sort, which passed lightly over
the Roman Empire and the Crusades on the way
to serious things, such as the genealogy of George I
or the administration of Addington. But that one
image emerged in the imagination as something
alive in its dead surroundings; like finding a
familiar face in a faded tapestry. The song he sang,
it is needless to say, was presumably not the noble
and rugged epic which Captain Scott Moncrieff
has done so solid and even historic a service to
letters in rendering in its entirety. The jongleur
must at least have selected extracts or favourite
passages, or the battle would have been unduly
delayed. But the tale has the same moral as the
translation; since both have the same inspiration.
The value of the tale was that it did suggest to
the childish mind, through all the deadening
effects of distance and indifference, that a man
does not make such a gesture with a sword unless
he feels something, and that a man does not sing
unless he has something to sing about. Dull
avarice and an appetite for feudal lands do not
inspire such jugglery. In short, the value of the
tale ,vas that it hinted that there is a heart in
history, even remote history. And the value of
the translation is that if we are really to learn his-
tory we must, in a double sense of the word, learn
it by heart. We must learn it at length and as it
were at large; lingering over chance spaces of
IX
contemporary work, for love of its detail and one
might almost say for love of its dulness. Even a
random reader like myself, only dipping here and
there into such things, so long as they are really
things of the period, can often learn more from
them than from the most careful constitutional
digests or political summaries, by modern men
more learned than himself. I admire the abnega-
tion of the translator, who is himself a very brilliant
and individual writer, in having really translated
the Song of Roland. It would have been easy for
a man of his poetic gift to make out of it a modern
poem. It might easily have been a temptation to
him to deal with Roland rather as Tennyson dealt
with Arthur. But the value of his vivid and very
laborious service to literature is precisely that a
modern man, educated on the modern histories,
may find here the things he does not expect. I
have here only space for one example, out of many
that I could give to show \vhat I mean. Most of
the stock histories tell the young student some-
thing of what Feudalism was in legal form and
custom; that the subordinates were called vas-
sals, that they did homage and so on. But they do
it somehow in such a way as to suggest a savage
and sullen obedience; as if a vassal were no more
than a serf. What is left out is the fact that the
homage really \vas homage; a thing worthy of a
man. The first feudal feeling had something ideal
and even impersonal like patriotism. The nations
were not yet born; and these smaller groups had
almost the souls of nations. Now in this trans-
lation, merely because it is an honest translation,
the reader will find the word " vassalage " used
again and again, on a note which is not only heroic
but even haughty. The vassal is obviously as proud
of being a vassal as anybody could be of being a
lord. Indeed the feudal poet uses the word " vas-
salage " where a modern poet would use the word
" chivalry." The Paladins charging the Paynims
x
are spurred on by vassalage. Turpin the Arch-
bishop hacks the Moslem chieftain rib from rib ;
and the Christians, beholding his triumph, cry
aloud in their pride that he has shown great vassal-
age; and that with such an Archbishop the Cross
is safe. There were no Conscientious Objections
in their Christianity.
This a type of the truths that historical literature
ought to make us feel; but which mere histories
very seldom do. The one example I have already
given, of the Jongleur at Hastings, is a com-
plexity of curious truths that might be conveyed
and which very seldom are. We might have
learned, for instance, what a Jongleur was; and
realised that this one may have had feelings as
deep or fantastic as the Jongleur celebrated in the
twelfth century poem, who died gloriously of
dancing and turning somersaults before the image
of Our Lady; that he was of the trade taken as a
type by the mystical mirth of St. Francis, who
called his monks the Jugglers of God. A man must
read at least a little of the contemporary work
itself, before he thus finds the human heart inside
the armour and the monastic gown; the men who
write the philosophy of history seldom give us
the philosophy, still less the religion, of the his-
torical characters. And the final example of this
is something which is also illustrated by the
obscure minstrel who threw up his sword as he
sang the Song of Roland, as well as by the Song
of Roland itself. Modern history, mainly ethno-
logical or economic, ah,vays talks of a thing like
the Norman adventure in the somewhat vulgar
language of success . For these it is well to note, in
the real Norman story, that the very bard in front
of their battle line was shouting the glorification
of failure. It testifies to a truth in the very heart
of Christendom, that even the court poet of
William the Conqueror was celebrating Roland
the conquered.
XI
That high note of the forlorn hope, of a host at
bay and a battle against odds without end, is the
note on which the great French epic ends. I know
nothing more moving in poetry than that strange
and unexpected ending; that splendidly incon-
clusive conclusion. Charlemagne the Christian
emperor has at last established his empire in quiet;
has done justice almost in the manner of a day of
judgement, and sleeps as it were upon his throne
with a peace almost like that of Paradise. And
there appears to him the angel of God crying
aloud that his arms are needed in a new and distant
land, and that he must take up again the endless
march of his days. And the great king tears his
long white beard and cries out against his restless
life. The poem ends, as it were with a vision and
vista of wars against the barbarians ; and the vision
is true. For that war is never ended, which defends
the sanity of the world against all the stark anar-
chies and rending negations which rage against it
for ever. That war is never finished in this world ;
and the grass has hardly grown on the graves of
our own friends who fell in it.
G. K. CHESTERTON.
xu
Translator's Note
W HAT follows is not a work of scholarship,
nor yet of imagination: it is an attempt
to reproduce line for line, and, so far as
is possible, word for word, the Old French epic
poem which lay dormant for centuries in the
Bodleian Library at Oxford.
My part in it began almost by accident when,
on a hot afternoon in the summer of 1918, turning
into the coolness of Hatchard's, I found lying
there a copy of M. Petit de JullevilIe's edition of
La Chanson de Roland.*' Amid the distractions of
that summer in London, where the sound of the
olifant came so often and so direfully across the
Channel, Roland was a constant solace, and in the
leisure hours of that summer the first fourteen
laisses were translated, copied, and circulated
in manuscript. Afterwards the original went with
me during winter and spring through France and
Belgium, and returned with me to London where,
in the summer months of 1919, the translation
was begun again.
M. Petit de Julleville's is the only edition I
have used or even seen: of Mr. Masefield's and
other translations I know only by hearsay. M. de
J ulleville's text, with which his translation was
interleaved,t is in the main that of the Oxford
MS., with some emendations by Muller and him-
self. In the Oxford MS. there are 3,998 lines; to
these Muller added four, as follows :-
· cc La Chanson de Roland." Traduction Nouvelle Rhythmée
et Assonancée. Avec une Introduction et des Notes par L.
Petit de Julleville. Paris. Alphonse Lemerre, Editeur 27-31,
Passage Choiseul, M DCCC LXXVIII.
t cc La Chanson de Roland," berichtigt und mit einem
Glossar versehen, nebst Beitragen zur Geschichte der franz-
ösischen Sprache, von Th. Muller. Göttingen, 185I.
. . .
XUl
.
Line 1615 from the Venice
3 1 4 6 Versailles
3390 Paris
3494 Venice
MS.
"
"
"
I have added a fifth, which I number 1777a, from
the Venice and Paris MSS. This line is quoted in
a note by M. de Julleville. I have also followed
Muller's arrangement of the lines 1466-1670,
which are displaced in the Oxford, but not in
other MSS. The comparative result is as follows:
Laisses.
Muller, de J ulleville, }
d th e d O t " 113-122 ; 12 3, 12 4, 12 5, 126
an IS e I Ion.
Oxford Manuscript. 115-124; 126, 125,113,114
With these precautions, my translation may, I
hope, be used as a " Companion to the Study"
of the Oxford MS.
I do not propose to discuss the operation of
the Law of Assonance on our language, beyond
suggesting that it is an operation under local
anæsthetics, which some degree of painfulness
may accompany. For variety, there are twenty-
two different vowel-endings in the original poem,
of which half are feminine or double endings.
This number I have not attempted to match.
For consonance, I know that in the old language
the predominance of vowel over consonant sounds
makes it almost always rhyme; and in this belief
I have indulged in sequences of rhyme to which
the professors of assonance may easily take ex-
ception. I claim only that my translation is literal:
if it cannot be read with enjoyment, there is no
more to be said.
Proper names I have spelt mostly as in the
original, anglicising such words as England and
Spain-as also Rhone (1583), Toledan (1568),
and some others; some I have further varied to
improve my assonances. I claim also the privilege
XIV
of making one or two syllables, as the metre may
require, of Charles, Neimes and Guenes; and
of similarly treating past participles. The vowels
of" to," "the" and some other words I have treated
as elided before initial vowels: "The Arch-
bishop" and "The Emperour" are invariably
three syllables; "That Archbishop " and " That
Emperour " are four.
The light thrown by Prosody, a science that
once heard my vows of lifelong service is, I find
after five years spent in reading Routine Orders
and writing on Army Forms, dazzling rather than
illuminant. I. have therefore asked the Historian
-of Prosody, of French and of English Literature,
and (incidentally) of Criticism, to review my work
in its relation to the original, asperging both with
the blessings of his unexhausted pen.
Scottish Presbyterian readers may, meanwhile,
like to be reminded that the whole poem can be
'Sung, both in French and English, to the favourite
tune of their metrical Psalm :
" Now Israel*may say, and that truly."
And, as of Prosody, so of Chivalry I can, after
this war, speak with no certain voice. But Mr.
Chesterton has shewn, as I think he only is now
qualified to shew, that my work is not a mere
exercise in a dead dialect, but may be read in the
light of many of the aspirations, the intentions,
even the despairs of to-day.
I am indebted also to some who have let them-
selves be charged with my manuscript at different
stages of its progress; namely, Lord Howard de
Walden, Mr. C. E. Montague, Mr. J. C. Squire,
Mr. Robert Graves, and Mr. Alec Waugh.
To three others, on whose sympathy I can still
rely, I have dedicated this book; and, when the
time comes, I will thank them.
CHARLES SCOTT MONCRIEFF.
xv
.
\
Note on T echniq ue
Carles Ii reis, nostre emperere magne
Set anz tus pleins ad ested en Espaigne,
Tresqu' en la mer cunquist la tere altaigne ;
N'i ad castel ki devant lui remaigne,
Mur ni citet n'i est remés à fraindre,
Fors Sarraguce, k'est en une muntaigne.
Li reis Marsilie la tient, ki Deu n'enaimet,
Mahummet sert e Apollin reclaimet;
Ne s'poet guarder que mals ne Ii ataignet.
I T is considerably more than forty years since
the present writer first read the Chanson de
Roland in the original, of which the above
lines form the first section, and, up to a few
months ago, he \vould have said, though in the
interval he has read it often in various forms, that
a satisfactory modernisation or translation of it
was so difficult as to be nearly impossible, and
that such an enterprise in English was the darkest
tower of all. Among the considerations which
determined this opinion we have nothing, in this
particular place, to do with those affecting the
spirit of the poem. It is with the language to some,
though the least extent, \vith the prosodic char-
acter mainly, that it is proposed here to deal.
The above specimen of the original itself should
make it tolerably easy for anyone who can get
rid of that singular terror of the unknown which
still seems to beset Englishmen as to Old English
and even Frenchmen as to Old French, to see
what has to be done. There is a language, some-
what rough and uncut, but with the grandeur of
uncut precious stones about it, and of a remark-
able sonority. There is a measure, very exact and
possessed of more definitely metrical rhythm
than modern French poetry usually aims at. And
..
XVl1
\
.
lastly, there is the pre-eminent characteristic of
the lines of this measure, each of which is strikingly
" single-moulded" as the word has been used
of English-that is to say, held up at the end, and
constructed all through so as to run to that end
and stop. This arrangement is neither" blank"
-that is to say disregardful of, and in fact shunn-
ing, any agreement of vowel sound at the end;
nor rhymed-that is' to say, constructed with
.couplet or some other arrangement so as to effect
consonance of sound ending; nor stanzaed-
that is to say, shaped in corresponding sets of
rhymed or even unrhymed verses. It consists of
bundles-to use the least flattering term-of lines
-bundles quite arbitrary in size or number, but
closely connected by assonance-that is to say,
identity of vowel sound in the last syllable, but
independent of the agreement in consonantal
clothing which rhyme requires.
Now, the difficulty of competition under the
first of these heads-that of language-rests upon
all competitors in modernising or translating,
and indeed is only an intense form of the general
difficulty of translation itself. I do not propose to
say much about it, though I think Captain Scott
Moncrieff has wrestled well with it. I t is the
metrical and generally prosodic character ,vhich
is so specially hard to retain. Translators have,
naturally enough, tried all sorts of outflankings in
their attack; but the worst point of these is that
the adventure is not achieved, only evaded. If
you do not convey the steady, fearless, ruthless
tramp of the single line repeating itself; if you
fail to reproduce the dropping fire of the assonance
,vith its strangely combined advantage of repeti-
tion in the individual laisse or bundle, and free-
dom from monotony both in character and in
quantity of sound in the several laisses-you do
not give the effect of the Chanson de Roland to
those who do know it, while you give something
xv 11 I
else to those who do not. Prose, even rhythmed
prose is a flat refusal; blank verse loses half, and
the most characteristic half, of the effect; couplet
substitutes something foreign and very difficultly
reconcilable; regular stanza something more of
the same kind; while rhyme in any form alters,
and in the case of the longer laisses has a terrible
tendency, both in French and English, to " over-
draw its account." The very latest French version)
M. Henri Clamard's (of which a notice by the
present writer appeared in the Athenæum for
September 5th, 1919) tries different rhymes,
some of them rather free according to orthodox
standards, in the same laisse. But this not merely
alters, but actually destroys, the music of the
single assonance throughout.
In his directer grapple with the problem Captain
Scott Moncrieff has had advantages in regard to
the single line which few Frenchmen, except
Agrippa d'Aubigné and Victor Hugo, have ever
been able to reach. Our earlier Elizabethans gave
us the single-moulded line in perfection: and the
thud of the iamb (Marlowe trochaically scanned
provokes a mixture of laugh and shudder) rises
to the final assonance note with perfect effect.
But, of course, it is in the attaining and retaining
of that assonance note itself that the work, and
the labour, and the crown of both lie.
I confess that, as I hinted at the beginning of
this paper, I was, until very recently, under the
impression that the attainment was difficult and
the retainment impossible-first, owing to the
peculiar obstacles to assonance in English, and
secondly, because of its doubtfully agreeable
effect even when obtained. If I say that Captain
Scott Moncriefi' has not wholly converted me, I
shall only, I hope, be speaking with the frankness
allowable between old professor and old student ;
if I add that he has brought me a long way to-
wards conversion I am sure I use that other
XIX
,
frankness which befits the scholar whether old or
young. It seems to me that this is not merely
in detail but in general effect, the most faithful
version I have ever seen of the great Song that
Turoldus did something absolutely uncertain
wi th. *
The obstacles to assonance in English, and its
probable disagreeables, are many and various.
In the first place (and no wise person will mini-
mise or misunderstand this) we " have not proved
it "; it has never been an accepted and familiar
form with us. In the second, we know it best as
a failure of something else-a slovenly or careless
substitute for rhyme. Thirdly, there are certain
stumbling-blocks hard to get over or avoid in the
sound-habits (I never use the word phonetic if I
can possibly help it) of English as a language.
We are so fond of throwing back the accent that
we have comparatively few words sounding fully
on the ultimate. The habit of slurring vowel-
sound, though not so usual \vith well educated
and well-bred people as phoneticians seem to
think, does to too great an extent deprive us of
the sharp, full ringing effect that assonance re-
quires, and that Old French, and Spanish of all
times, afford. Lastly, there is the multiplicity,-
valuable in itself and not to be sacrificed to any
simplifying simpleton,-of our sound-values for
the same vowel. All these are dangerous lions in
the path (to vary the comparison), and some of them
are disagreeable beasts as well as dangerous ones.
Captain Scott Moncrieff has, I think, managed
the stumbling blocks, and met the beasts, with a
most creditable amount of skill and courage and
with a very considerable success. He has had, of
course, to avail himself of some licenses, none of
them, however, unjustified by good precedent.
* Turoldus declinet. The Colophon of the Poem is a
hopeless puzzle.
xx
He has availed himself of the accenting of finals
like 'ing and 'eth which was common from Chaucer
to Wyatt, and did not quite cease with Surrey as
well as though not too often of Chaucerian
"French accentuation" generally. Some slight
archaisms in language pay a double debt, and
therefore justify their own borrowing doubly.
Nor does he always require these. I take for in-
stance a sors of the honestest kind and light upon
Stanza XC :-
"The Franks arise and stand upon their feet,"
in which no liberty of any kind is taken with
rhythm, vocabulary or vowel-sound, and the effect
of which is excellent.
One feature only I do not like, and that is fur-
nished by the laisses in which the assonance is sup-
plied by the penultimate: for instance, CXXX,
where the end words are "battle," "Charlès," "vas-
sal's " " wrathf I " " dama g e" "arm y " "here-
, u , , ,
after," " AIde," " clasp you." English is a very
queer language-one of the fe\v points in which
foreigners are perhaps nearer the truth about it
than some of its own children-and there are all
sorts of perhaps unexpected and perhaps inex-
plicable things that it will not bear-a fact of
which some students of its prosody seem specially
ignorant. In this matter of assonance it is like
some thoroughbreds. It is suspicious of the single
.assonance, and has to be carefully familiarised,
whilst it simply bucks and lashes out at the double.
At least so it seems to me.
But it also seems to me, if I may borrow the
phrase by which, actually borrowing from Seneca,
poor Ben Jonson got himself into such complicated
trouble, that there is more-very much more-
in this version to be praised than to be pardoned.
I t is quite certainly nearer to the original than any
Qther version that I have read, and though this of
XXI
.
\
itself would cover a multitude of sins there appear
to me to be, in that region of technique with which
it has been my privilege to deal, no multitude of
sins at all and a good deal of virtue.
GEORGE SAINTSBURY..
xx 11
The Song of Roland
I
Charlès the King, our Lord and Sovereign,
Full seven years hath sojournèd in Spain,
Conquered the land, and won the western main,
Now no fortress against him doth remain,
No city walls are left for him to gain,
Save Sarraguce, that sits on high mountain.
Marsile its King, who feareth not God's name,
Mahumet's man, he invokes Apollin's aid,
Nor wards off ills that shall to him attain.
AOI.
II
King Marsilies he lay at Sarraguce,
Went he his way into an orchard cool ;
There on a throne he sate, of marble blue,
Round him his men, full t\venty thousand, stood.
Called he forth then his counts, also his dukes:
" My Lords, give ear to our impending doom:
That Emperour, Charlès of France the Douce,
Into this land is come, us to confuse.
I have no host in battle him to prove,
Nor have I strength his forces to undo.
Counsel me then, ye that are wise and true;
Can ye ward off this present death and dule ? "
What word to say no pagan of them knew,
Save Blancandrin, of th' Castle of Val Funde.
III
Blancandrins was a pagan very wise,
In vassalage he was a gallant knight,
First in prowess, he stood his lord beside.
And thus he spoke: "Do not yourself affright !
Yield to Carlun, that is so big with pride,
Faithful service, his friend and his ally;
Lions and bears and hounds for him provide,
Thousand mewed hawks, sev'n hundred camelry;
Silver and gold, four hundred mules load high;
I B
35
4 0
45
.5 0
'55
60
65
Fifty wagons his wrights will need supply,
Till with that wealth he pays his soldiery.
War hath he waged in Spain too long a time,
To Aix, in France, homeward he will him hie.
Follow him there before Saint Michael's tide,
You shall receive and hold the Christian rite;
Stand honour bound, and do him fealty.
Send hostages, should he demand surety,
Ten or a score, our loyal oath to bind;
Send him our sons, the first-born of our wives;-
An he be slain, I'll surely furnish mine.
Better by far they go, though doomed to die,
Than that we lose honour and dignity,
And be ourselves brought down to beggary."
AOI.
IV
Says Blancandrins: "By my right hand, I say,
And by this beard, that in the wind doth sway,
The Frankish host you'll see them all away;
Franks will retire to France their own terrain.
When they are gone, to each his fair domain,
In his Chapelle at Aix will Charlès stay,
High festival will hold for Saint Michael.
Time will go by, and pass the appointed day ;
Tidings of us no Frank will hear or say.
Proud is that King, and cruel his courage;
From th' hostages he'll slice their heads away.
Better by far their heads be shorn away,
Than that ourselves lose this clear land of Spain,
Than that ourselves do suffer grief and pain."
" That is well said. So be it." the pagans say.
V
The council ends, and that King Marsilie
Calleth aside Clarun of Balaguee,
Estramarin and Eudropin his peer,
And Priamun and Guarlan of the beard,
And Machiner and his uncle Mahee,
With Joüner, Malbien from over sea,
2
And Blancandrin, good reason to decree:
Ten hath he called, were first in felony.
70 " Gentle Barons, to Charlemagne go ye ;
He is in siege of Cordres the city.
In your right hands bear olive-branches green
Which signify Peace and Humility.
If you by craft contrive to set me free,
7S Silver and gold, you'll have your fill of me,
Manors and fiefs, I'll give you all your need."
"We have enough," the pagans straight agree.
VI
King Marsilies, his council finishing,
Says to his men: "Go now, my lords, to him,
o Olive-branches in your right hands bearing;
Bid ye for me that Charlemagne, the King,
In his God's name to shew me his mercy;
Ere this new moon wanes, I shall be with him ;
One thousand men shall be my following ;
85 I will receive the rite of christening,
Will be his man, my love and faith swearing ;
Hostages too, he'll have, if so he will."
Says Blancandrins: "Much good will come
of this." AOI.
VII
Ten snow-white mules then ordered Marsilie,
9 0 Gifts of a I{ing, the King of Suatilie.
Bridled with gold, saddled in silver clear;
Mounted them those that should the message
speak,
In their right hands were olive-branches green.
Came they to Charle, that holds all France in
fee,
95 Yet cannot guard himself from treachery.
AOI.
VIII
Merry and bold is now that Emperour,
Cordres he holds, the walls are tumbled down,
3
His catapults have battered town and tow'r.
Great good treasure his knights have placed in
pound,
100 Silver and gold and many a jewelled gown.
In that city there is no pagan now
But he been slain, or takes the Christian vow.
The Emperour is in a great orchard ground
Where Oliver and Rollant stand around,
J 05 Sansun the Duke and Anséis the proud,
Gefreid d'Anjou, that bears his gonfaloun ;
There too Gerin and Geriers are found.
Where they are found, is seen a mighty crov;d,
Fifteen thousand, come out of France the Douce.
I loOn white carpets those knights have sate them
down,
At the game-boards to pass an idle hour ;-
Chequers the old, for wisdom most renowned,
While fence the young and lusty bachelours.
Beneath a pine, in eglantine embow'red,
115 Stands a fald-stool, fashioned of gold throughout;
There sits the King, that holds Douce France in
pow'r;
White is his beard, and blossoming-white his
crown,
Shapely his limbs, his countenance is proud.
Should any seek, no need to point him out.
J 20 The messengers, on foot they get them down,
And in salute full courteously they lout.
IX
The foremost word of all Blancandrin spake,
And to the King: "May God preserve you safe,
The All Glorious, to Whom ye're bound to pray!
J 25 Proud Marsilies this message bids me say :
Much hath he sought to find salvation's way;
Out of his wealth meet presents would he make,
Lions and bears, and greyhounds leashed on
chain,
Thousand mewed hawks, sev'n hundred drome-
drays,
4
13 0
135
14 0
145
15 0
ISS
160
Four hundred mules his silver shall convey,
Fifty wagons you'll need to bear away
Golden besants, such store of proved assay,
Wherewith full tale your soldiers you can pay.
Now in this land you've been too long a day;
Hie you to France, return again to Aix ;
Thus saith my Lord, he'll follow too that way."
That Emperour t'wards God his arms he raised
Lowered his head, began to meditate.
AOI.
X
That Emperour inclined his head full low ;
Hasty in speech he never was, but slow:
His custom was, at his leisure he spoke.
When he looks up, his face is very bold,
He says to them: "Good tidings have you told.
King Marsilies hath ever been my foe.
These very words you have before me told,
In what measure of faith am I to hold ? "
That Sarrazin says, " Hostages he'll show;
Ten shall you take, or fifteen or a score.
Though he be slain, a son of mine shall go,
Any there be you'll have more nobly born.
To your palace seigneurial when you go,
At Michael's Feast, called in periculo ,-
My Lord hath said, thither will he follow
Ev'n to your baths, that God for you hath
wrought ;
There is he fain the Christian faith to know."
Answers him Charles: "Still may he heal his
soul."
AOI.
XI
Clear shone the sun in a fair even-tide;
Those ten men's mules in stall he bade them tie.
Also a tent in the orchard raise on high,
Those messengers had lodging for the night;
Dozen serjeants served after them aright.
Darkling they lie till comes the clear daylight.
S
That Emperour does with the morning rise ;
Matins and Mass are said then in his sight.
165 Forth goes that King, and stays beneath a pine;
Barons he calls, good counsel to define,
For with his Franks he's ever of a mind.
AOI.
XII
That Emperour, beneath a pine he sits,
Calls his barons, his council to begin:
170 Oger the Duke, that Archbishop Turpin,
Richard the old, and his nephew Henry,
From Gascony the proof Count Acolin,
Tedbald of Reims and Milun his cousin:
With him there were Gerers, also Gerin,
175 And among them the Count Rollant came in,
And Oliver, so proof and so gentil.
Franks out of France, a thousand chivalry ;
Guenès came there, that wrought the treachery.
The Council then began, which ended ill.
AOI.
XIII
180 " My Lords Barons," says the Emperour then,
Charlès,
U King Marsilies hath sent me his messages;
Out of his wealth he'll give me weighty masses.
Greyhounds on leash and bears and lions also,
Thousand mewed hawks and seven hundred
camels,
185 Four hundred mules with gold Arabian chargèd,
Fifty wagons, yea more than fifty drawing.
But into France demands he my departure;
He'll follow me to Aix, where is my Castle;
There he'll receive the law of our Salvation :
190 Christian he'll be, and hold from me his marches.
But I know not what purpose in his heart is."
Then say the Franks: "Beseems us act with
caution! " AO I.
6
XIV
That Emperour hath ended now his speech.
The Count Rollanz, he never will agree,
95 Quick to reply, he springs upon his feet;
And to the King, " Believe not Marsilie.
Seven years since, when into Spain came we,
I conquer'd you Noples also Commibles,
And took Valterne, and all the land of Pine,
00 And Balaguet, and Tuele, and Sezilie.
Traitor in all his ways was Marsilies ;
Of his pagans he sent you then fifteen,
Bearing in hand their olive-branches green;
Who, ev'n as now, these very words did speak.
'0 5 You of your Franks a Council did decree,
Praised they your words that foolish were in deed.
Two of your Counts did to the pagan speed,
Basan was one, and the other Basilie :
Their heads he took on th' hill by Haltilie.
no War have you waged, so on to war proceed,
To Sarraguce lead forth your great army.
All your life long, if need be, lie in siege,
Vengeance for those the felon slew to wreak."
AOI.
XV
That Emperour he sits with lowering front,
lIS He clasps his chin, his beard his fingers tug,
Good word nor bad, his nephew hears not one.
Franks hold their peace, but only Guenelun
Springs to his feet, and comes before Carlun ;
Right haughtily his reason he's begun,
220 And to the King: "Believe not anyone,
My word nor theirs, save whence your good shall
come.
Since he sends word, that King Marsiliun,
Homage he'll do, by finger and by thumb;
Throughout all Spain your writ alone shall run ;
225 Next he'll receive our rule of Christendom;
Who shall advise, this bidding be not done,
7
,
Deserves not death, since all to death must come.
Counsel of pride is wrong: we've fought enough.
Leave we the fools, and with the wise be one."
AOI.
XVI
23 0 And after him came Neimès out, the third,
Better vassal there was not in the world ;
And to the King: "Now rightly have you heard
Guenès the Count, what answer he returned.
Wisdom was there, but let it well be heard.
235 King Marsilies in war is overturned,
His castles all in ruin have you hurled,
With catapults his ramparts have you burst,
Vanquished his men, and all his cities burned;
Him who entreats your pity do not spurn,
24 0 Sinners were they that would to war return;
With hostages his faith he would secure ;
Let this great ,var no longer now endure."
" Well said the Duke." Franks utter in their turn.
AOI.
XVII
" My lords barons, say \vhom shall we send up
245 To Sarraguce, to King Marsiliun ? "
Answers Duke Neimes : " I'll go there for your
love ;
Give me therefore the wand, also the glove."
Answers the King: "Old man of wisdom pruff ;
By this white beard, and as these cheeks are rough,
25 0 You'll not this year so far from me remove;
Go sit you down, for none hath called you up."
XVIII
" My lords barons, say whom now can we send
To th' Sarrazin that Sarraguce defends? "
Answers Rollanz: "I might go very well."
255 " Certes, you'll not," says Oliver his friend,
" For your courage is fierce unto the end,
I am afraid you would misapprehend.
8
60
65
I
:7 0
75
280
28 5
If the King wills it I might go there well."
Answers the King: "Be silent both on bench;
Your feet nor his, I say, shall that way wend.
Nay, by this beard, that you have seen grow
blench,
The dozen peers by that would stand condemned.
Franks hold their peace; you'd seen them all
silent.
XIX
Turpins of Reins is risen from his rank,
Says to the King: "In peace now leave your
Franks.
For seven years you've lingered in this land;
They have endured much pain and sufferance.
Give, Sire, to me the glove, also the wand,
I will seek out the Spanish Sarazand,
For I believe his thoughts I understand."
That Emperour answers intolerant :
" Go, sit you down on yonder silken mat;
And speak no more, until that I command."
AOI.
xx
" Franks, chevaliers," says the Emperour then,
Charlès,
" Choose ye me out a baron from my marches,
To Marsilie shall carry back my answer."
Then says Rollanz : " There's Guenès, my good-
father."
Answer the Franks: "For he can wisely man-
age;
So let him go, there's none you should send
rather. "
And that count Guenes is very full of anguish ;
Off from his neck he flings the pelts of marten,
And on his feet stands clear in silken garment.
Proud face he had, his eyes with colour sparkled;
Fine limbs he had, his ribs were broadly archèd ;
So fair he seemed that all the court regarded.
9
.
\
Says to Rollant: U Fool, wherefore art so wrath-
ful?
All men know well that I am thy good-father;
Thou hast decreed, to Marsiliun I travel.
Then if God grant that I return hereafter,
29 0 I'll follow thee with such a force of passion
That will endure so long as life may last thee. u
Answers Rollanz: "Thou'rt full of pride and
madness.
All men know well, I take no thought for slander;
But some wise man, surely, should bear the
answer ;
295 If the King will, I'm ready to go rather."
AOI.
XXI
Answers him Guene: "Thou shalt not go for
me.
Thou'rt not my man, nor am I lord of thee.
Charlès commands that I do his decree,
To Sarraguce going to Marsilie ;
3 00 There I will work a little trickery,
This mighty wrath of mine I'll thus let free."
When Rollanz heard, began to laugh for glee.
AOI.
XXII
When Guenès sees that Ro11ant laughs at it,
Such grief he has, for rage he's like to split,
3 0 5 A little more, and he has lost his wit:
Says to that count: " I love you not a bit;
A false judgement you bore me when you chid.
Right Emperour, you see me where you sit,
I will your word accomplish, as you bid.
AOI.
XXIII
310 U To Sarraguce I must repair, ' tis plain;
Whence who goes there returns no more again.
10
Your sister's hand in marriage have I ta'en;
And I've a son, there is no prettier swain:
Baldwin, men say he shews the knightly strain.
[s To him I leave my honours and domain.
Care well for him; he'll look for me in vain."
Answers him Charles: " Your heart is too
humane.
When I command, time is to start amain."
AOI.
XXIV
Then says the King: "Guenès, before me
stand ;
20 And take from me the glove, also the wand.
For you have heard, you're chosen by the Franks,
"Sire," answers Guenes, "all this is from
Rollanz ;
I'll not love him, so long as I'm a man,
Nor Oliver, who goes at his right hand;
25 The dozen peers, for they are of his band,
All I defy, as in your sight I stand."
Then says the King: " Over intolerant.
Now certainly you go when I command."
" And go I can; yet have I no warrant;
,3 0 Basile had none nor his brother Basant."
XXV
His right hand glove that Emperour holds out ;
But the count Guenes elsewhere would fain be
found ;
When he should take, it falls upon the ground.
Murmur the Franks: "God! \Vhat may that
mean now ?
335 By this message great loss shall come about.
"Lordings," says Guene, " You'll soon have
news enow."
XXVI
u N " G ' d " d
ow, :Juenes sai, give me your or ers,
Sire ;
I I
Since I must go, why need I linger, I ? "
Then said the King: "In Jesu's Name and
mine ! "
34 0 With his right hand he has absolved and signed,
Then to his care the wand and brief confides.
XXVII
Guenès the count goes to his hostelry,
Finds for the road his garments and his gear,
All of the best he takes that may appear :
345 Spurs of fine gold he fastens on his feet,
And to his side Murglès his sword of steel.
On Tachebrun, his charger, next he leaps,
His uncle holds the stirrup, Guinemere.
Then you had seen so many knights to weep,
35 0 Who all exclaim: "Unlucky lord, indeed!
In the King's court these many years you've
been,
Noble vassal, they say that have you seen.
He that for you this journey has decreed
King Charlemagne will never hold him dear.
355 The Count Rollant, he should not so have deemed,
Knowing you were born of very noble breed."
After they say: "Us too, Sire, shall he lead."
Then answers Guenes: "Not so, the Lord be
pleased !
Far better one than many knights should bleed.
3 60 To France the Douce, my lords, you soon shall
speed,
On my behalf my gentle wife you'll greet,
And Pinabel, who is my friend and peer,
And Baldëwin, my son, whom you have seen ;
His rights accord and help him in his need."
3 6 5 -Rides down the road, and on his way goes he.
AOI.
XXVIII
Guenes canters on, and halts beneath a tree ;
Where Sarrazins assembled he may see,
With Blancandrins, who abides his company.
12
Cunning and keen they speak then, each to each,
70 Says Blancandrins: "Charles, what a man is he,
Who conquered Puille and th'whole of Calabrie ;
Into England he crossed the bitter sea,
To th' holy Pope restored again his fee.
What seeks he now of us in our country ? "
75 Then answers Guene: U So great courage hath
he ;
Never was man against him might succeed."
AOI.
XXIX
Says Blancandrins: "Gentle the Franks are
found ;
Yet a great wrong these dukes do and these
counts
Unto their lord, being in counsel proud;
80 Him and themselves they harry and confound."
Guenes replies: "There is none such, without
Only Rollanz, whom shame \vill yet find out.
Once in the shade the King had sate him down ;
His nephew came, in sark of iron brown,
,85 Spoils he had won, beyond by Carcasoune,
Held in his hand an apple red and round.
" Behold, fair Sire," said Rollanz as he bowed,
" Of all earth's kings I bring you here the crowns."
His cruel pride must shortly him confound,
390 Each day t'wards death he goes a little down,
When he be slain, shall peace once more abound."
AOI.
XXX
Says Blancandrins : "A cruel man, Rollant,
That would bring down to bondage every man,
And challenges the peace of every land.
395 With what people takes he this task in hand ? "
And answers Guene: "The people of the
Franks;
They love him so, for men he'll never want.
Silver and gold he show'rs upon his band,
Chargers and mules, garments and silken mats.
13
4 00 The King himself holds all by his command;
From hence to the East he'll conquer sea and
land."
AOI.
XXXI
Cantered so far then Blancandrins and Guene
Till each by each a covenant had made
And sought a plan, how Rollant might be slain.
405 Cantered so far by valley and by plain
To Sarraguce beneath a cliff they came.
There a fald-stool stood in a pine-tree's shade,
Enveloped all in Alexandrin veils ;
There was the King that held the whole of
Espain,
410 Twenty thousand of Sarrazins his train ;
Nor was there one but did his speech contain,
Eager for news, till they might hear the tale.
Haste into sight then Blancandrins and Guene.
XXXII
Blancandrin comes before Marsiliun,
415 Holding the hand of county Guenelun ;
Says to the King: " Lord save you, Sire, Mahum
And Apollin, whose holy laws here run! "
Your message we delivered to Chari un,
Both his two hands he raised against the sun,
420 Praising his God, but answer made he none.
He sends you here his noblest born barun,
Greatest in wealth, that out of France is come;
From him you'll hear if peace shall be, or none."
" Speak," said Marsile: "We'll hear him, every
one. "
AOI.
XXXIII
425 But the count Guenes did deeply meditate;
Cunning and keen began at length, and spake
Even as one that knoweth well the way;
And to the King: "May God preserve you safe,
The All Glorious, to whom we're bound to pray
14
o Proud Charlemagne this message bids me say:
You must receive the holy Christian Faith,
And yield in fee one half the lands of Spain.
If to accord this tribute you disdain,
Taken by force and bound in iron chain
5 You will be brought before his throne at Aix ;
Judged and condemned you'll be, and shortly
slain,
Yes, you will die in misery and shame."
King Marsilies was very sore afraid,
Snatching a dart, with golden feathers gay,
o He made to strike: they turned aside his aim.
AOI.
XXXIV
King Marsilies is turnèd white with rage,
His feathered dart he brandishes and shakes.
Guenes beholds: his sword in hand he takes,
Two fingers' width from scabbard bares the
blade;
5 And says to it: "0 clear and fair and brave ;
Before this King in court we'll so behave,
That the Emperour of France shall never say
In a strange land I'd thrown my life a\vay
Before these chiefs thy temper had essayed."
50 " Let us prevent this fight:" the pagans say.
XXXV
Then Sarrazins implored him so, the chiefs,
On the faldstoel Marsillies took his seat.
" Greatly you harm our cause," says the alcaliph :
" When on this Frank your vengeance you would
,vreak ;
55 Rather you should listen to hear him speak."
" Sire," Guenès says, " to suffer I am meek.
I will not fail, for all the gold God keeps,
Nay, should this land its treasure pile in heaps,
But I ,vill tell, so long as I be free,
60 What Charlemagne, that Royal Majesty,
Bids me inform his mortal enemy."
* * * *
15
Guenès had on a cloke of sable skin,
And over it a veil Alexandrin ;
These he throws down, they're held by Blan-
candrin;
4 6 5 But not his sword.. he'll not leave hold of it,
In his right hanJ he grasps the golden hilt.
The pagans say. "A noble baron, this."
AOI.
XXXVI
Before the King's face Guenès drawing near
Says to him: "Sire, wherefore this rage and
fear ?
47 0 Seeing you are, by Charles, of Franks the chief,.
Bidden to hold the Christians' right belief.
One half of Spain he'll render as your fief,
The rest Rollanz, his nephew, shall receive,
Proud parcener in him you'll have indeed.
475 If you will not to Charles this tribute cede,
To you he'll come, and Sarraguce besiege;
Take you by force, and bind you hands and feet,
Bear you outright ev'n unto Aix his seat.
You will not then on palfrey nor on steed,
4 80 Jennet nor mule, come cantering in your speed;
Flung you will be on a vile sumpter-beast;
Tried there and judged, your head you will not
keep.
Our Emperour has sent you here this brief."
He's given it into the pagan's nief.
XXXVII
485 Now Marsilies is turnèd white with ire,
He breaks the seal and casts the wax aside,
Looks in the brief, sees what the King did write:
"Charlès commands, who holds all France by
might,
I bear in mind his bitter grief and ire;
4 9 0 'Tis of Basan and's brother Basilye,
Whose heads I took on th' hill by Haltilye.
If I would save my body now alive,
16
I must despatch my uncle the alcalyph,
Charles will not love me ever otherwise."
I i Mter, there speaks his son to Marsilye,
Says to the King: "In madness spoke this
wight.
So wrong he was, to spare him were not right ;
Leave him to me, I will that wrong requite."
When Guenès hears, he draws his sword out-
right,
) Against the trunk he stands, beneath that pine.
XXXVIII
The King is gone into that orchard then ;
With him he takes the best among his men ;
And Blancandrins there shews his snowy hair,
And Jursalet, was the King's son and heir,
5 And the alcaliph, his uncle and his friend.
Says Blancandrins: "Summon the Frank again,
In our service his faith to me he's pledged."
Then says the King: "So let him now be
fetched. "
He's taken Guenes by his right finger-ends,
o And through the orchard straight to the King
they wend.
Of treason there make lawless parliament.
AOI.
XXXIX
" Fair Master Guenes," says then King Marsilie,
" I did you now a little trickery,
Making to strike, I shewed my great fury.
[5 These sable skins take as amends from me,
Five hundred pounds would not their worth
redeem.
To-morrow night the gift shall ready be."
Guene answers him: "I'll not refuse it, me.
May God be pleased to shew you His mercy."
AOI.
17
c
\
XL
5 20 Then says Marsile: "Guenès, the truth to ken,
Minded I am to love you very welL
Of Charlemagne I wish to hear you tell,
He's very old, his time is nearly spent,
Two hundred years he's lived now, as 'tis said.
5 2 5 Through many lands his armies he has led,
So many blows his buckled shield has shed,
And so rich kings he's brought to beg their
bread;
What time from war will he draw back instead ?"
And answers Guenes : " Not so was Charlès bred.
53 0 There is no man that sees and knows him well
But will proclaim the Emperour's hardihead.
Praise him as best I may, when all is said,
Remain untold, honour and goodness yet.
His great valour how can it be counted ?
535 Him with such grace hath God illuminèd,
Better to die than leave his banneret.
XLI
The pagan says: " You make me marvel sore
At Charlemagne, who is so old and hoar;
Two hundred years, they say, he's lived and more.
540 So many lands he's led his armies o'er,
So many blows from spears and lances borne,
And so rich kings brought down to beg and sorn,
When will time come that he draws back from
war ? "
* * * *
"Never," says Guenes, "so long as lives his
nephew ;
545 No such vassal goes neath the dome of heaven;
And proof also is Oliver his henchman;
The dozen peers, whom Charlès holds so precious,
These are his guards, with other thousands
twenty.
Charles is secure, he holds no man in terror."
AOI.
18
XLII
Says Sarrazin: "My wonder yet is grand
At Charlemagne, who hoary is and blanched.
Two hundred years and more, I understand,
He has gone forth and conquered many a land,
Such blows hath borne from many a trenchant
lance,
Vanquished and slain of kings so rich a band,
When will time come that he from war draws
back ? "
" Never," says Guene, " so long as lives Rollanz,
From hence to the East there is no such vassal ;
And proof also, Oliver his comrade;
) The dozen peers he cherishes at hand,
These are his guard, with twenty thousand
Franks.
Charles is secure, he fears no living man."
AOI.
XLIII
" Fair Master Guenes," says Marsilies the King,
Such men are mine, fairer than tongue can sing,
5 Of knights I can four hundred thousand bring
So I may fight with Franks and with their King."
Answers him Guenes: "Not on this journey-
ing!
Save of pagans a great loss suffering.
Leave you the fools, ,vise counsel following ;
o To the Emperour such wealth of treasure give
That every Frank at once is marvelling.
For twenty men that you shall no,v send in
To France the Douce he will repair, that King;
In the rereward will follow after him
5 Both his nephew, count Rollant, as I think,
And Oliver, that courteous paladin;
Dead are the counts, believe me if you will.
Charles will behold his great pride perishing,
For battle then he'll have no more the skill.
AOI.
19
.
XLIV
5 80 " Fair Master Guene," says then King Marsilie,
Shew the device, how Rollant slain may be."
Answers him Guenes : " That will I soon make
clear:
The King will cross by the good pass of Size,
A guard he'll set behind him, in the rear;
5 8 5 His nephew there, count Rollant, that rich peer,
And Oliver, in whom he well believes;
Twenty thousand Franks in their company.
Five score thousand pagans upon them lead,
Franks unawares in battle you shall meet,
59 0 Bruised and bled white the race of Franks shall
be ;
I do not say, but yours shall also bleed.
Battle again deliver, and with speed.
So, first or last, from Rollant you'll be freed.
You will have wrought a high chivalrous deed,
595 Nor all your life know war again, but peace.
AOI.
XLV
" Could one achieve that Rollant's life was lost,
Charlè's right arm were from his body torn;
Though there remained his marvellous great
host,
He'ld not again assemble in such force;
600 Terra Major would languish in repose."
Marsile has heard, he's kissed him on the throat;
Next he begins to undo his treasure-store.
AOI.
XLVI
Said Marsilie-but now what more said they ?-
" No faith in words by oath unbound I lay;
60S Swear me the death of RoHant on that day."
Then answered Guene: "So be it, as you say."
On the relics, are in his sword Murglès,
Treason he's sworn, forsworn his faith away.
AOI.
20
XLVII
Was a fald-stool there, made of olifant.
10 A book thereon Marsilies bade them plant,
In it their laws, Mahum's and Tervagant's.
He's sworn thereby, the Spanish Sarazand,
In the rereward if he shall find Rollant,
Battle to give, himself and all his band,
IS And verily he'll stay him if he can.
And answered Guenes: "So be it, as you com-
mand ! " AOI.
XLVIII
In haste there came a pagan, Valdabrun,
Warden had been to King Marsiliun,
Smiling and clear, he's said to Guenelun,
20 '" Take now this sword, and better sword has
none;
Into the hilt a thousand coins are run.
To you, fair sir, I offer it in love;
Give us your aid from Rollant the barun,
That in rereward against him we may come."
)25 Guenès the count answers: " It shall be done."
Then, cheek and chin, kissed each the other one.
XLIX
After there came a pagan, Climorins,
Smiling and clear to Guenelun begins:
" Take now my helm, better is none than this;
53 0 But give us aid, on Rollant the marquis,
By what device we may dishonour bring."
"It shall be done." Count Guenès answered
him;
On mouth and cheek then each the other kissed.
AOI.
L
In haste there came the Queen forth, Brami-
mound ;
635 " I love you well, sir," said she to the count,
" For prize you dear my lord and all around;
21
\
Here for you \vife I have two brooches found,
Amethysts and jacynths in golden mount;
More worth are they than all the wealth of Roum;
64 0 Your Emperour has none such, I'll be bound."
He's taken them, and in his hosen pouched.
AOI.
LI
The King now calls Malduiz, that guards his
treasure.
U Tribute for Charles, say, is it now made ready?"
He answers him: U Ay, Sire, for here is plenty:
645 Silver and gold on hundred camels seven,
And twenty men, the gentlest under heaven."
AOI.
LII
Marsilie's arm Guene's shoulder cloth enfold;
He's said to him: " You are both wise and bold.
Now, by the law that you most sacred hold,
65 0 Let not your heart in our behalf grow cold !
Out of my store I'll give you wealth untold,
Charging ten mules with fine Arabian gold ;
I'll do the same for you, new year and old.
*
*
*
*
Take then the keys of this city so large,
655 This great tribute present you first to Charles,
Then get me placed Rollanz in the rereward.
If him I find in valley or in pass,
Battle I'll give him that shall be the last."
Answers him Guenes: U lVly time is nearly
past."
660 His charger mounts, and on his journey starts.
AOI.
LIII
That Emperour draws near to his domain,
He is come down unto the city Gailne.
The Count Rollanz had broken it and ta'en,
An hundred years its ruins shall remain.
22
) Of Guenelun the King for news is fain,
And for tribute from the great land of Spain.
At dawn of day, just as the light grows plain,
Into their camp is come the county Guene.
AOI.
LIV
In morning time is risen the Emperere,
f 0 Mattins and Mass he's heard, and made his prayer;
On the green grass before the tent his chair,
Where Rollant stood and that bold Oliver,
Neimès the Duke, and many others there.
Guenès arrived, the felon perjurer,
5 Begins to speak, with very cunning air,
Says to the King: Ie God keep you, Sire, I
swear!
Of Sarraguce the keys to you I bear,
Tribute I bring you, very great and rare,
And twenty men; look after them \vith care.
:0 Proud Marsilies bade me this word declare :
That alcaliph, his uncle, you must spare.
My own eyes saw four hundred thousand there,
In hauberks dressed, closed helms that gleamed
in the air,
And golden hilts upon their swords they bare.
5 They followed him, right to the sea they'ld fare;
Marsile they left, that would their faith forswear,
For Christendom they've neither wish nor care.
But the fourth league they had not compassed,
ere
Brake. from the North tempest and storm in the
air;
9 0 Then were they drowned, they will no more
appear.
Were he alive, I should have brought him here.
The pagan king, in truth, Sire, bids you hear,
Ere you have seen one month pass of this year
He'll follow you to France, to your Empire,
95 He will accept the laws you hold and fear;
Joining his hands, will do you homage there,
23
,
Kingdom of Spain will hold as you declare."
Then says the King: "Now God be praised, I
swear !
Well have you wrought, and rich reward shall
wear. "
7 00 Bids through the host a thousand trumpets blare.
Franks leave their lines; the sumpter-beasts
are yare ;
T'wards France the Douce all on their way
repair. AOI.
LV
Charlès the Great that land of Spain had wasted,
Her castles ta'en, her cities violated.
7 0 5 Then said the King, his war was now abated.
Towards Douce France that Emperour has hasted.
Upon a lance Rollant his ensign raisèd,
High on a cliff against the sky 'twas placèd ;
The Franks in camp through all that country
baited.
7 10 Cantered pagans, through those wide valleys
racèd,
Hauberks they wore and sarks with iron plated,
Swords to their sides were girt, their helms \vere
lacèd,
Lances made sharp, escutcheons newly painted:
There in the mists beyond the peaks remainèd,
7 1 5 The day of doom four hundred thousand waited.
God! what a grief. Franks know not what is
fated. .A.OI.
LVI
Passes the day, the darkness is grown deep.
That Emperour, rich Charlès, lies asleep ;
Dreams that he stands in the great pass of Size,
720 In his two hands his ashen spear he sees;
Guenè
the count that spear from him doth
seize,
Brandishes it and twists it with such ease,
That flown into the sky the flinders seem.
Charlès sleeps on nor wakens from his dream.
24
LVII
2 S And after this another vision saw,
In France, at Aix, in his Chapelle once more,
That his fight arm an evil bear did gnaw ;
Out of Ardennes he saw a leopard stalk,
His body dear did savagely assault ;
'30 But then there dashed a harrier from the hall,
Leaping in the air he sped to Charlè's call,
First the right ear of that grim bear he caught,
And furiously the leopard next he fought.
Of battle great the Franks then seemed to talk,
735 Yet which might win they knew not, in his
thought.
Charles sleeps on, nor wakens he for aught.
AOI.
LVIII
Passes the night and opens the clear day ;
That Emperour canters in brave array,
Looks through the host often and everyway ;
740 " My lords barons," at length doth Charlès say,
Ye see the pass along these valleys strait,
Judge for me now, who shall in rereward wait."
" There's my good-son, Rollanz," then answers
Guenes,
" You've no baron whose valour is as great."
745 When the King hears, he looks upon him straight,
And says to him: " You devil incarnate ;
Into your heart is come a mortal hate.
And who shall go before me in the gate ? "
" Oger is here, of Denmark; " answers Guenes,
75 0 " You've no baron were better in that place."
AOI.
LIX
The count Rollanz hath heard himself decreed ;
Speaks then to Guenes by rule of courtesy :
" Good-father, Sir, I ought to hold you dear,
Since the rereward you have for me decreed.
755 Charlès the King will never lose by me,
As I know well, nor charger nor palfrey,
25
,
Jennet nor mule that canter can with speed,
Nor sumpter-horse will lose, nor any steed;
But my sword's point shall first exact their meed."
7 60 Answers him Guenes: "I know; 'tis true in-
deed." AOI.
LX
When Rollant heard that he should be rerewarden
Furiously he spoke to his good-father:
" Aha! culvert; begotten of a bastard.
Thinkest the glove will slip from me hereafter,
765 As then from thee the wand fell before Charlès ?"
AOI.
LXI
" Right Emperour," says the baron Rollanz,
II Give me the bow you carry in your hand;
Ne'er in reproach, I know, will any man
Say that it fell and lay upon the land,
77 0 As Guenes let fall, when he received the wand."
That Emperour with lowered front cloth stand,
He tugs his beard, his chin is in his hand ;
Tears fill his eyes, he cannot them command.
LXII
And after that is come duke Neimès furth,
775 (Better vassal there was not upon earth)
Says to the King: "Right well now have you
heard ;
The count Rollanz to bitter wrath is stirred,
For that on him the rere\vard is conferred;
No baron else have you, would do that work.
780 Give him the bow your hands have bent, at first;
Then find him men, his company are worth."
Gives it, the King, and Rollant bears it furth.
LXIII
That Emperour, Rollanz then calleth he :
" Fair nephew mine, know this in verity;
785 Half of my host I leave you presently;
26
Retain you them; your safeguard this shall be."
Then says the count: " I will not have them, me !
Confound me God, if I fail in the deed !
Good valiant Franks, a thousand score I'll keep.
JO Go through the pass in all security,
While I'm alive there's no man you need fear."
AOI.
LXIV
The count Rollanz has mounted his charger.
Beside him came his comrade Oliver,
Also Gerins and the proud count Geriers,
)5 And Otès came, and also Berengiers,
Old Anséis, and Sansun too came there;
Gerart also of Rossillon the fierce,
And there is come the Gascon Engeliers.
" Now by my head I'll go! " the Archbishop
swears.
)0 " And I'm with you," says then the count Gual-
tiers,
" I'm Rollant's man, I may not leave him there."
A thousand score they choose of chevaliers.
AOI.
LXV
Gualter del Hum he calls, that Count Rollanz ;
" A thousand Franks take, out of France our
land ;
05 Dispose them so, among ravines and crags,
That the Emperour lose not a single man."
Gualter replies: "I'll do as you command."
A thousand Franks, come out of France their
land,
At Gualter's word they scour ravines and crags;
10 Thev'll not come down, howe'er the news be bad,
Ere of from their sheaths swords seven hundred
flash.
King Almaris, Belserne for kingdom had,
On the evil day he met them in combat.
AOI.
27
,
LXVI
High are the peaks, the valleys shado\vful,
8 I 5 Swarthy the rocks, the narrows wonderful.
Franks passed that day all very sorrowful,
Fifteen leagues round the rumour of them grew.
When they were come, and Terra Major knew,
Saw Gascony their land and their seigneur's,
820 Remembering their fiefs and their honours,
Their little maids, their gentle wives and true;
There was not one that shed not tears for rue.
Beyond the rest Charles was of anguish full,
In Spanish Pass he'd left his dear nephew;
82 5 Pity him seized; he could but weep for rue.
AOI.
LXVII
The dozen peers are left behind in Spain,
Franks in their band a thousand score remain,
No fear have these, death hold they in disdain.
That Emperour goes into France apace;
83 0 Under his cloke he fain would hide his face.
Up to his side comes cantering Duke Neimes,
Says to the King: "What grief upon you
weighs ? "
Charles answers him: "He's wrong that quest-
ion makes.
So great mv grief I cannot but complain.
835 France is destroyed, by the device of Guene :
This night I saw, by an angel's vision plain,
Between my hands he brake my spear in twain ;
Great fear I have, since Rollant must remain:
I've left him there, upon a border strange.
84 0 God! If he's lost, I'll not outlive that shame."
AOI.
l"XVIII
Charlès the great, he cannot but deplore.
And with him Franks an hundred thousand
mourn,
Who for Rollanz have marvellous remorse.
28
\
5
o
;5
60
65
70
875
The felon Guenes had treacherously wrought ;
From pagan king has had his rich reward,
Silver and gold, and veils and silken cloths,
Camels, lions, with many a mule and horse.
Barons from Spain King lVlarsilies hath called,
Counts and viscounts and dukes and almacours,
And the admirals, and cadets nobly born;
Within three days come hundred thousands four.
In Sarraguce they sound the drums of war ;
Mahum they raise upon their highest tow'r,
Pagan is none, that does not him adore.
They canter then with great contention
Through Certeine land, valleys and mountains,
on,
Till of the Franks they see the gonfalons,
Being in rereward those dozen companions ;
They will not fail battle to do anon.
LXIX
Marsile's nephew is come before the band,
Riding a mule, he goads it with a wand,
Smiling and clear, his uncle's ear demands:
" Fair Lord and King, since, in your service, glad,
I have endured sorrow and sufferance,
Have fought in field, and victories have had.
Give me a fee: the right to smite Rollanz !
I'll slay him clean with my good trenchant lance,
If Mahumet will be my sure warrant ;
Spain I'll set free, deliver all her land
From Pass of Aspre even unto Durestant.
Charles will grow faint, and recreant the Franks;
There'll be no war while you're a living man."
Marsilie gives the glove into his hand.
AOI.
LXX
Marsile's nephew, holding in hand the glove,
His uncle calls, with reason proud enough:
" Fair Lord and King, great gift from you I've
won.
29
\
Choose now for me eleven more barons,
So I may fight those dozen companions."
First before all there answers Falfarun ;
880 -Brother he was to King Marsiliun-
" Fair sir nephew, go you and I at once
Then verily this battle shall be done ;
The rereward of the great host of Carlun,
It is decreed we deal them now their doom."
AOI.
LXXI
885 King Corsablis is come from the other part,
Barbarian, and steeped in evil art.
He's spoken then as fits a good vassal,
For all God's gold he would not seem coward.
Hastes into view Malprimis of Brigal,
89 0 Faster than a horse, upon his feet can dart,
Before Marsile he cries with all his heart :
" My body I will shew at Rencesvals ;
Find I Rollanz, I'll slay him without fault."
LXXI!
An admiral is there of Balaguet ;
895 Clear face and proud, and body nobly bred;
Since first he was upon his horse mounted,
His arms to bear has shewn great lustihead ;
In vassalage he is well famousèd ;
Christian were he, he'd shewn good baronhead.
900 Before Marsile aloud has he shouted:
" To Rencesvals my body shall be led;
Find I Rollanz, then is he surely dead,
And Oliver, and all the other twelve;
Franks shall be slain in grief and wretchedness.
90 5 Charles the great is old now and doted,
Weary will be and make no war again ;
Spain shall be ours, in peace and quietness."
King Marsilies has heard and thanks him well.
AOI.
3 0
o
LXXII!
...Þ\n almacour is there of Moriane,
More felon none in all the land of Spain.
Before Marsile his vaunting boast hath made :
" To Rencesvals my company I'll take,
A thousand score, \vith shields and lances brave.
Find I Rollanz, with death I'll him acquaint;
Day shall not dawn but Charles will make his
plaint."
[S
AOI.
20
LXXIV
From the other part, Turgis of Turtelose,
He was a count, that city was his own ;
Christians he would them massacre, every one.
Before Marsile among the rest is gone,
Says to the King: "Let not dismay be shewn!
Mahum's more worth than Saint Peter of Rome;
Serve we him well, then fame in field we'll own.
To Rencesvals, to meet Rollanz I'll go,
From death he'll find his warranty in none.
See here my sword, that is both good and long
With Durendal I'll lay it well across;
Ye'll hear betimes to which the prize is gone.
Franks shall be slain, whom we descend upon,
Charlès the old will suffer grief and wrong,
No more on earth his crown will he put on."
2S
3 0
t3S
LXXV
From the other part, Escremiz of Valtrenne,
A Sarrazin, that land was his as well.
Before Marsi]e he cries amid the press:
To Rencesvals I go, pride to make less;
Find I Rollanz, he'll not bear thence his head,
Nor Oliver that hath the others led,
The dozen peers condemnèd are to death ;
Franks shall be slain, and France lie deserted.
Of good vassals will Charles be richly bled."
AOI.
3 1
\
.
LXXVI
940 From the other part, a pagan Esturganz ;
Estramariz also, was his comrade;
Felons were these, and traitors miscreant.
Then said Marsile: "My Lords, before me
stand !
Into the pass ye'll go to Rencesvals,
945 Give me your aid, and thither lead my band."
They answer him: "Sire, even as you com-
mand.
We will assault Olivier and Rollant,
The dozen peers from death have no warrant ;
For these our swords are trusty and trenchant,
950 In scalding blood we'll dye their blades scarlat.
Franks shall be slain, and Charlès be fight sad.
Terra Major we'll give into your hand;
Come there, Sir King, truly you'll see all that;
Yea, the Emperour we'll give into your hand."
LXXVII
955 Running there came Margariz of Sibile,
Who holds the land by Cadiz, to the sea.
For his beauty the ladies hold him dear;
Who looks on him, with him her heart is pleased)
When she beholds, she can but smile for glee.
960 Was no pagan of such high chivalry.
Comes through the press, above them all cries he,
" Be not at all dismayed, King Marsilie !
To Rencesvals I go, and Rollanz, he
Nor Oliver may scape alive from me ;
965 The dozen peers are doomed to martyry.
See here the sword, whose hilt is gold indeed,
I got in gift from the admiral of Primes ;
In scarlat blood I pledge it shall be steeped.
Franks shall be slain, and France abasèd be.
970 To Charles the old, with his great blossoming
beard,
Day shall not dawn but brings him rage and grief,
Ere a year pass, all France we shall have seized,
3 2
Till we can lie in th' burgh of Saint Denise."
The pagan king has bowed his head down deep.
AOI.
LXXVIII
7S From the other part, Chemublès of Muneigre.
Right to the ground his hair swept either way ;
He for a jest viould bear a heavier weight
Than four yoked mules, beneath their load that
strain.
That land he had, God's curse on it was plain.
80 No sun shone there, nor grew there any grain,
No dew fell there, nor any shower of rain,
The very stones were black upon that plain ;
And many say that devils there remain.
Says Chernublès: U My sword is in its place,
85 At Rencesvals scarlat I will it stain ;
Find I Rollanz the proud upon my way,
I'll fall on him, or trust me not again,
And Durendal I'll conquer with this blade,
Franks shall be slain, and France a desert made."
9 0 The dozen peers are, at this word, away,
Five score thousand of Sarrazins they take ;
Who keenly press, and on to battle haste;
In a fir-wood their gear they ready make.
LXXIX
Ready they make hauberks Sarrazinese,
9S That folded are, the greater part, in three;
And they lace on good helms Sarragucese ;
Gird on their swords of tried steel Viennese ;
Fine shields they have, and spears Valentinese,
And white, blue, red, their ensigns take the
breeze,
:)00 They've left their mules behind, and their pal-
freys,
Their chargers mount, and canter knee by knee.
Fair shines the sun, the day is bright and clear,
Light burns again from all their polished gear.
33 D .
A thousand horns they sound, more proud to
seem ;
100 5 Great is the noise, the Franks its echo hear.
Says Oliver: "Companion, I believe,
Sarrazins now in battle must we meet."
Answers Rollanz: "God grant us then the fee !
For our King's sake well must we quit us here;
1010 Man for his lord should suffer great disease,
Most bitter cold endure, and burning heat,
His hair and skin should offer up at need.
Now must we each lay on most hardily,
So evil songs ne'er sung of us shall be.
10 15 Pagans are wrong: Christians are right indeed.
Evil example will never come of me."
AOI.
LXXX
Oliver mounts upon a lofty peak,
Looks to his right along the valley green,
The pagan tribes approaching there appear ;
1020 He calls RoIIanz, his companion, to see:
" What sound is this, come out of Spain, we hear,
What hauberks bright, what helmets these that
gleam ?
They'll smite our Franks with fury past belief,
He knew it, Guenes, the traitor and the thief,
1025 Who chose us out before the King our chief."
Answers the count Rollanz: "Olivier, cease.
That man is my good-father; hold thy peace."
LXXXI
Upon a peak is Oliver n1ounted,
Kingdom of Spain he sees before him spread,
1030 And Sarrazins, so many gatherèd.
Their helmets gleam, with gold are jewellèd,
Also their shields, their hauberks orfreyèd,
Also their swords, ensigns on spears fixèd.
Rank beyond rank could not be numberèd,
1035 So maný there, no measure could he set.
In his own heart he's sore astonishèd,
34
Fast as he could, down from the peak hath sped,
Comes to the Franks, to them his tale hath said.
LXXXII
Says Oliver: "Pagans from there I saw;
040 Never on earth did any man see more.
Gainst us their shields an hundred thousand
bore,
That lacèd helms and shining hauberks wore ;
And, bolt upright, their bright brown spearheads
shone.
Battle we'll have as never was before.
[045 Lords of the Franks, God keep you in valour [
So hold your ground, we be not overborne 1 "
Then say the Franks: "Shame take him that
goes off :
If we must die, then perish one and all."
AOI.
LXXXIII
Says Oliver: "Pagans in force abound,
10 so While of us Franks but very few I count;
Comrade Rollanz, your horn I pray you sound!
If Charlès hear, he'll turn his armies round."
Ans\vers Rollanz: "A fool I should be found;
In France the Douce would perish my renown.
10 55 With Durendal I'll lay on thick and stout,
In blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I'll drown.
Felon pagans to th' pass shall not come down;
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound.
AOI.
LXXXIV
" Comrade Rollanz, sound the olifant, I pray;
1060 If Charlès hear, the host he'11 turn again ;
Will succour us our King and baronage."
Answers Rollanz: "Never, by God, I say,
For my misdeed shall kinsmen hear the blame,
Nor France the Douce fall into evil fame!
106 5 Rather stout blows with Durendal I'll lay,
35
,
With my good sword that by my side cloth sway ;
Till bloodied o'er you shall behold the blade.
Felon pagans are gathered to their shame;
I pledge you now, to death they're doomed to-
day."
LXXXV
10 7 0 " Comrade Rollanz, once sound your olifant !
If Charlès hear, where in the pass he stands,
I pledge you now, they'll turn again, the Franks."
" Never, by God," then answers him Rollanz,
U Shall it be said by any living man,
10 75 That for pagans I took my horn in hand!
Never by me shall men reproach my clan.
When I am come into the battle grand,
And blows lay on, by hundred, by thousand,
Of Durendal bloodied you'll see the brand.
1080 Franks are good men; like vassals brave they'll
stand ;
Nay, Spanish men from death have no warrant."
LXXXVI
Says Oliver: U In this I see no blame;
I have beheld the Sarrazins of Spain ;
Covered \vith them, the mountains and the vales,
108 5 The wastes I saw, and an the farthest plains.
A muster great they've made, this people strange;
We have of men a very little tale."
Answers Rollanz: "My anger is inflamed.
Never, please God His Angels and His Saints,
10 9 0 Never by me shall Frankish valour fail!
Rather I'll die than shame shall me attain.
Therefore strike on, the Emperour's love to
gain. "
LXXXVII
Pride hath Rollanz, wisdom Olivier hath;
And both of them shew marvellous courage ;
10 95 Once they are horsed, once they have donned
their arms,
3 6
1100
110 5
1110
IllS
1120
112 5
Rather they'ld die than from the battle pass.
Good are the counts, and lofty their language.
Felon pagans come cantering in their wrath.
Says Oliver: "Behold and see, Rollanz,
These are right near, but Charles is very far.
On the olifant deign now to sound a blast ;
Were the King here, we should not fear damage.
Only look up towards the Pass of Aspre,
In sorrow there you'll see the whole rereward.
Who does this deed, does no more afterward."
Answers Rollanz: "Utter not such outrage!
Evil his heart that is in thought coward !
We shall remain firm in our place installed ;
From us the blows shall come, from us the assault."
AOI.
LXXXVIII
When Rollant sees that now must be combat,
l\1ore fierce he's found than lion or leopard;
The Franks he calls, and Oliver commands:
" Now say no more, my friends, nor thou, com-
rade.
That Emperour, who left us Franks on guard,
A thousand score stout men he set apart,
And well he knows, not one will prove co\vard.
Man for his lord should suffer \vith good heart,
Of bitter cold and great heat bear the smart,
His blood let drain, and all his flesh be scarred..
Strike with thy lance, and I \vith Durendal,
With my good sword that was the King's reward.
So, if I die, \vho has it afterward
Noble vassal's he well may say it was."
LXLXIX
From the other part is the Archbishop Turpin,
I-Ie pricks his horse and mounts upon a hill ;
Calling the Franks, sermon to them begins:
" My lords barons, Charles left us here for this;
He is our King, well may we die for hin1 :
To Christendom good service offering.
37
.
I 130 Battle you'll have, you all are bound to it,
For with your eyes you see the Sarrazins.
Pray for God's grace, confessing Him your sins!
For your souls' health, I'll absolution give;
So, though you die, blest martyrs shall you live,
I 135 Thrones you shall win in the great Paradis."
The Franks dismount, upon the ground are lit.
That Archbishop God's Benediction gives,
For their penance, good blows to strike he bids.
XC
The Franks arise, and stand upon their feet,
1 1 40 They're well absolved, and from their sins made
clean,
And the Archbishop has signed them with God's
seal ;
And next they mount upon their chargers keen;
By rule of knights they have put on their gear,
For battle all apparelled as is meet.
1145 The count Rollant calls Oliver, and speaks:
"Comrade and friend, now clearly have you
seen
That Guenelun hath got us by deceit ;
Gold hath he ta'en; much wea]th is his to keep;
That Emperour vengeance for us must wreak.
1 ISO King Marsilies hath bargained for us cheap;
At the sword's point he yet shall pay our meed."
AOI.
XCI
To Spanish pass is Rollanz now going
On V eillantif, his good steed, galloping ;
He is well armed, pride is in his bearing,
1 155 He goes, so brave, his spear in hand holding,
He goes, its point against the sky turning;
A gonfalon all white thereon he's pinned,
Down to his hanG r1utters the gOlden fringe :
Noble his limbs, his face clear and smiling.
1160 His companion goes after, following,
The men of France their warrant find in him.
3 8
Proudly he looks towards the Sarrazins,
And to the Franks sweetly, himself humbling;
And courteously has said to them this thing :
I 165 u My lords barons, go now your pace holding!
Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking;
Noble and fair reward this day shall bring,
Was never won by any Frankish King."
Upon these words the hosts are come touching
AOI.
XCII
1170 Speaks Oliver: No more now will I say.
Your olifant, to sound it do not deign,
Since from Carlun you'll never more have aid.
He has not heard; no fault of his, so brave.
Those with him there are never to be blamed.
I 175 So canter on, with what prowess you may!
Lords and barons, firmly your ground maintain!
Be minded well, I pray you in God's Name,
Stout blows to strike, to give as you shall take.
Forget the cry of Charles we never may."
1180 Upon this word the Franks cry out amain.
Who then had heard them all "Monjoie!"
acclaim
Of vassalage might well recall the tale.
They canter forth, God ! with what proud parade,
Pricking their spurs, the better speed to gain;
I 185 They go to strike,-what other thing could they?-
But Sarrazins are not at all afraid.
Pagans and Franks, you'ld see them now engaged.
XCIII
Marsile's nephew, his name is Aëlroth,
First of them all canters before the host,
I 190 Says of our Franks these ill words as he goes:
U Felons of France, so here on us you close!
Betrayed you has he that to guard you ought ;
Mad is the King who left you in this post.
So shall the fame of France the Douce be lost,
I I9S And the right arm from Charlè's body torn."
39
When Rollant hears, what rage he has, by God!
His steed he spurs, gallops with great effort ;
He goes, that count, to strike with all his force,
The shield he breaks, the hauberk's seam unsews,
1200 Slices the heart, and shatters up the bones,
All of the spine he severs with that blow,
And with his spear the soul from body throws
So well he's pinned, he shakes in the air that
corse,
On his spear's hilt he's flung it from the horse:
120 5 So in two halves Aëlroth's neck he broke,
Nor left him yet, they say, but rather spoke:
" Avaunt, culvert! A madman Charles is not,
No treachery was ever in his thought.
Proudly he did, who left us in this post;
1210 The fame of France the Douce shall not be lost.
Strike on, the Franks! Ours are the foremost
blows.
For we are right, but these gluttons are wrong."
AOI.
XCIV
A duke there was, his name was Falfarun,
Brother was he to King Marsiliun,
121 5 He held their land, Dathan's and Abirun's;
Beneath the sky no more encrimed felun ;
Between his eyes so broad was he in front
A great half-foot you'ld measure there in full.
His nephew dead he's seen with grief enough,
1220 Comes through the press and wildly forth he
runs,
Aloud he shouts their cry the pagans use ;
And to the Franks is right contrarious :
" Honour of France the Douce shall fall to us ! u
Hears Oliver, he's very furious,
1225 His horse he pricks with both his golden spurs,
And goes to strike, ev'n as a baron doth ;
The shield he breaks and through the hauberk
cuts,
His ensign's fringe into the carcass thrusts,
4 0
3 0
35
24 0
245
[25 0
12 55
1260
On his spear's hilt he's flung it dead in dust.
Looks on the ground, sees glutton lying thus,
And says to him, with reason proud enough:
"From threatening, culvert, your mouth I've
shut.
Strike on, the Franks! Right well we'll over-
come. "
" Monjoie," he shouts, 'twas the ensign of Carl un.
AOI.
xcv
A king there was, his name was Corsablix,
Barbarian, and of a strange country,
He's called aloud to the other Sarrazins :
" Well may we join battle upon this field,
For of the Franks but very few are here;
And those are here, we should account them
cheap,
From Charles not one has any warranty.
This is the day when they their death shall meet."
Has heard him well that Archbishop Turpin,
No man he'ld hate so much the sky beneath;
Spurs of fine gold he pricks into his steed,
To strike that king by virtue great goes he,
The hauberk all unfastens, breaks the shield,
Thrusts his great spear in through the carcass
clean,
Pins it so well he shakes it in its seat,
Dead in the road he's flung it from his spear.
Looks on the ground, that glutton lying sees,
Nor leaves him yet, they say, but rather speaks:
" Culvert pagan, you lied now in your teeth,
Charlès my lord our warrant is indeed ;
None of our Franks hath any mind to flee.
Your companions all on this spot we'll keep,
I tell you news; death shall ye suffer here.
Strike on, the Franks! Fail none of you at need!
Ours the first blow, to God the glory be ! "
" Monjoie ! " he cries, for all the camp to hear.
4 1
,
XCVI
And Gerins strikes Malprimis of Brigal
So his good shield is nothing worth at all,
Shatters the boss, ,vas fashioned of crystal,
One half of it do,vnward to earth flies off ;
126 5 Right to the flesh has through his hauberk torn,
On his good spear he has the carcass caught.
And with one blow that pagan downward falls ;
The soul of him Satan away hath borne.
AOI.
XCVII
And his comrade Gerers strikes the admiral,
12 7 0 The shield he breaks, the hauberk unmetals,
And his good spear drives into his vitals,
So well he's pinned him, clean through the
carcass,
Dead on the field he's flung him from his hand.
Says Oliver: "Now is our battle grand."
XCVIII
12 75 Sansun the Duke goes strike that almacour,
The shield he breaks, with golden flowers tooled,
That good hauberk for him is nothing proof,
He's sliced the heart, the lungs and liver through,
And flung him dead, as well or ill may prove.
1280 Says the Archbishop: "A baron's stroke, in
truth."
XCIX
And Anséis has let his charger run ;
He goes to strike Turgis of Turtelus,
The shield he breaks, its golden boss above,
The hauberk too, its doubled mail undoes,
1285 His good spear's point into the carcass runs,
So well he's thrust, clean through the whole steel
comes,
And from the hilt he's thrown him dead in dust.
Then says Rollant: "Great prowess in that
thrust."
4 2
C
And Engelers the Gascoin of Burdele
Spurs on his horse, lets fall the reins as well,
He goes to strike Escremiz of Valtrene,
The shield he breaks and shatters on his neck,
The hauberk too, he has its chinguard rent,
Between the arm-pits has pierced him through
the breast,
9S On his spear's hilt from saddle throws him dead;
Mter he says: " So are you turned to helL)'
AOI.
CI
And Otès strikes a pagan Estorgant
Upon the shield, before its leathern band,
Slices it through, the white with the scarlat ;
3 00 The hauberk too, has torn its folds apart,
And his good spear thrusts clean through the
carcass,
And flings it dead, ev'n as the horse goes past;
He says: "You have no warrant afterward."
CII
And Berenger, he strikes Estramariz,
3 0 5 The shield he breaks, the hauberk tears and
splits,
Thrusts his stout spear through's middle, and
him flings
Down dead among a thousand Sarrazins.
Of their dozen peers ten have no\v been killed,
No more than two remain alive and quick,
[3 10 Being Chernuble, and the count Margariz.
CIII
Margariz is a very gallant knight,
Both fair and strong, and s\vift he is and light;
He spurs his horse, goes Oliver to strike,
And breaks his shield, by th'golden buckle
bright ;
43
13 I 5 Along his ribs the pagan's spear doth glide ;
God's his warrant, his body has respite,
The shaft breaks off, Oliver stays upright;
That other goes, naught stays him in his flight,
His trumpet sounds, rallies his tribe to fight.
CIV
13 20 Common the fight is now and marvellous.
The count Rollanz no way. himself secures,
Strikes with his spear, long as the shaft endures,
By fifteen blows it is clean broken through ;
Then Durendal he bares, his sabre good
I 325 Spurs on his horse, is gone to strike Chernuble,
The helmet breaks, where bright carbuncles
grew,
Slices the cap and shears the locks in two,
Slices also the eyes and the features,
The hauberk white, whose mail was close of woof,
1330 Down to the groin cuts all his body through
To the saddle; with beaten gold 'twas tooled.
Upon the horse that sword a moment stood,
Then sliced its spine, no join there any knew,
Dead in the field among thick grass them threw.
1335 After he said: "Culvert, false step you moved,
From Mahumet your help will not come soon.
No victory for gluttons such as you."
CV
The count Rollanz, he canters through the field,
Holds Durendal, he well can thrust and wield,
1340 Right great damage he's done the Sarrazines
You'd seen them, one on other, dead in heaps,
Through all that place their blood was flowing
clear 1
In blood his arms were and his hauberk steeped,
And bloodied o'er, shoulders and neck, his steed.
1345 And Oliver goes on to strike with speed;
No blame that way deserve the dozen peers,
For all the Franks they strike and slay with heat,
44
Pagans are slain, some swoon there in their seats,
Says the Archbishop: " Good baronage indeed ! "
o " Monjoie " he cries, the call of Charles repeats.
AOI.
CVI
And Oliver has cantered through the crush;
Broken his spear, the truncheon still he thrusts ;
Going to strike a pagan Malsarun ;
Flowers and gold, are on the shield, he cuts,
5 Out of the head both the two eyes have burst,
And all the brains are fallen in the dust ;
He flings him dead, sev'n hundred else amongst.
Then has he slain Turgin and Esturgus ;
Right to the hilt, his spear in flinders flew.
)0 Then says Rollant: "Companion, what do you?
In such a fight, there's little strength in wood,
Iron and steel should here their valour prove.
Where is your sword, that Halteclere I knew?
Golden its hilt, whereon a crystal grew."
S 5 Says Oliver: "I had not, if I drew,
Time left to strike enough good blows and true."
AOI.
eVIl
Then Oliver has drawn his mighty sword
As his comrade had bidden and implored,
In knightly wise the blade to him has shewed ;
7 0 Justin he strikes, that Iron Valley's lord,
All of his head has down the middle shorn,
The carcass sliced, the broidered sark has torn,
The good saddle that was with gold adorned,
And through the spine has sliced that pagan's
horse ;
75 Dead in the field before his feet they fall.
Says Rollant: "Now my brother I you call ;
He'll love us for such blows, our Emperor."
On every side "Monjoie" you'Id hear them
roar.
AOI.
45
\
CVIII
That count Gerins sate on his horse Sorel,
1380 On Passe-Cerf was Gerers there, his friend;
They've loosed their reins, together spurred
and sped,
And go to strike a pagan Timozel ;
One on the shield, on hauberk the other fell ;
And their two spears went through the carcass
well ,
1385 A fallow field amidst they've thrown him dead.
I do not know, I never heard it said
Which of the two was nimbler as they went.
Esperveris was there, son of Borel,
And him there slew Engelers of Burdel.
139 0 And the Archbishop, he slew them Siglorel,
The enchanter, who before had been in hell,
Where Jupiter bore him by a magic spelL
Then Turpin says: "To us he's forfeited."
Answers Rollanz: "The culvert is bested.
1395 Such blows, brother Olivier, I like well."
CIX
The battle grows more hard and harder yet,
Franks and pagans, with marvellous onset,
Each other strike and each himself defends.
So many shafts bloodstained and shatterèd,
14 00 So many flags and ensigns tatterèd ;
So many Franks lose their young lustihead,
Who'll see no more their mothers nor their
friends,
Nor hosts of France, that in the pass attend.
Charlès the Great weeps therefor with regret.
14 0 5 What profits that? No succour shall they get.
Evil service, that day, Guenes rendered them,
To Sarraguce going, his own to sell.
After he lost his members and his head,
In court, at Aix, to gallows-tree condemned ;
14 10 And thirty more with him, of his kindred,
Were hanged, a thing they never did expect.
AOI.
4 6
ex
Now marvellous and weighty the combat,
Right well they strike, Olivier and Rollant,
A thousand blows come from the Archbishop's
hand,
5 The dozen peers are nothing short of that,
With one accord join battle all the Franks.
Pagans are slain by hundred, by thousand,
Who flies not then, from death has no warrant,
Will he or niB, foregoes the allotted span.
,0 The Franks have lost the foremost of their band,
They'll see no more their fathers nor their clans,
Nor Charlemagne, where in the pass he stands.
Torment arose, right marvellous, in France,
Tempest there was, of wind and thunder black,
: 5 With rain and hail, so much could not be spanned;
Fell thunderbolts often on every hand,
And verily the earth quaked in answer back
From Saint Michael of Peril unto Sanz,
From Besençun to the harbour of Guitsand ;
o No house stood there but straight its walls must
crack :
In full mid-day the darkness was so grand,
Save the sky split, no light was in the land.
Beheld these things with terror every man,
And many said: "We in the Judgement stand;
35 The end of time is presently at hand."
They spake no truth; they did not understand ;
'Twas the great day of mourning for Rollant.
4 0
eXI
The Franks strike on; their hearts are good and
stout.
Pagans are slain, a thousandfold, in cro\vds,
Left of five score are not two thousands now.
Says the Archbishop: " Our men are very proud,
No man on earth has more nor better found.
In Chronicles of Franks is written down,
What vassalage he had, our Emperour."
47
..
1..5 Then through the field they go, their friends
seek out,
And their eyes weep with grief and pain profound
For kinsmen dear, by hearty friendship bound.
King Marsilies and his great host draw round.
AOI.
eXII
King Marsilies along a valley led
1450 The mighty host that he had gatherèd.
Twenty columns that king had numberèd.
With gleaming gold their helms were jewellèd.
Shone too their shields and sarks embroiderèd.
Sounded the charge seven thousand trumpets,
1455 Great was the noise through all that country
went.
Then said Rollanz: "Olivier, brother, friend,
That felon Guenes hath sworn to achieve our
death ;
For his treason no longer is secret.
Right great vengeance our Emperour will get.
1460 Battle we'll have, both long and keenly set,
Never has man beheld such armies met.
With Durendal my sword I'll strike again,
And, comrade, you shall strike with Halteclere.
These swords in lands so many have we held,
14 6 5 Battles with them so many brought to end,
No evil song shall e'er be sung or said."
AOI.
CXIII
When the Franks see so many there, pagans,
On every side covering all the land,
Often they call Olivier and Rollant,
147 0 The dozen peers, to be their safe warrant.
And the Archbishop speaks to them, as he can :
" My lords barons, go thinking nothing bad!
For God I pray you fly not hence but stand,
Lest evil songs of our valour men chant !
1475 Far better 't were to perish in the van.
Certain it is) our end is near at hand,
48
Beyond this day shall no more live one man ;
But of one thing I give you good warrant :
Blest Paradise to you now open stands,
80 By the Innocents your thrones you there shall
have. "
Upon these words grow bold again the Franks;
There is not one but he " Monjoie " demands.
AOI.
CXIV
A Sarrazin was there, of Sarraguce,
Of that city one half was his by use,
.85 'Twas Climborins, a man ,vas nothing proof;
By Guenelun the count an oath he took,
And kissed his mouth in amity and truth,
Gave him his sword and his carbuncle too.
Terra Major, he said, to shame he'ld put,
90 From the Emperour his crown he would remove.
He sate his horse, which he called Barbamusche,
Never so swift sparrow nor swallow flew,
He spurred him well, and down the reins he
threw,
Going to strike Engelier of Gascune ;
9S Nor shield nor sark him any warrant proved,
The pagan spear's point did his body wound,
He pinned him well, and all the steel sent through,
From the hilt flung him dead beneath his foot.
After he said: "Good are they to confuse.
5 00 Pagans, strike on, and so this press set loose! "
" God! " say the Franks, " Grief, such a man
to lose! " AOI.
CXV
The count Rollanz called upon Oliver:
" Sir companion, dead now is Engeler ;
Than whom we'd no more valiant chevalier."
5 0 S Ans\vered that count: "God, let me him
avenge ! "
Spurs of fine gold into his horse drove then,
49 E
Held Halteclere, with blood its steel was red,
By virtue great to strike that pagan went,
Brandished his blade, the Sarrazin upset;
IS 10 The Adversaries of God his soul bare thence.
Next he has slain the duke Alphaïen,
And sliced away Escababi his head,
And has unhorsed some seven Arabs else ;
No good for those to go to war again.
ISIS Then said Rollanz: "My comrade shews anger,
So in my sight he makes me prize him well ;
More dear by Charles for such blows are we
held."
Aloud he's cried: "Strike on, the chevaliers !"
AOI.
CXVI
From the other part a pagan Valdabron.
15 20 Warden he'd been to king Marsilion,
And lord, by sea, of four hundred dromonds ;
No sailor was but calíed his name upon;
Jerusalem he'd taken by treason,
Violated the Temple of Salomon,
.I 525 The Partiarch had slain before the fonts.
He'd pledged his oath by county Guenelon,
Gave him his sword, a thousand coins thereon.
He sate his horse, which he called Gramimond,
Never so swift flew in the air falcon;
1530 He's pricked him well, with sharp spurs he had
on,
Going to strike e'en that rich Duke, Sanson;
His shield has split, his hauberk has undone,
The ensign's folds have through his body gone,
Dead from the hilt out of his seat he's dropt :
1535 " Pagans, strike on, for well we'll overcome! "
" God!" say the Franks, " Grief for a brave
baron! " AOI.
CXVII
The count Rollanz, when Sansun dead he saw,
You may believe, great grief he had therefor.
50
His horse he spurs, gallops with great effort,
I 0 Wields Durendal, was worth fine gold and more,
Goes as he may to strike that baron bold
Above the helm, that was embossed with gold,
Slices the head, the sark, and all the corse,
The good saddle, that was embossed with gold,
I 5 And cuts deep through the backbone of his
horse ;
He's slain them both, blame him for that or laud.
The pagans say : " 'Twas hard on us, that blow."
Answers Rollanz: "Nay, love you I can not,
For on your side is arrogance and wrong."
AOI.
CXVII!
] ;0 Out of Affrike an Affrican was come,
'Twas Malquiant, the son of king Malcud ;
With beaten gold was all his arffiour done,
Fore all men's else it shone beneath the sun.
He sate his horse, which he called Salt-Perdut,
] 55 Never so swift was any beast could run.
And Anséis upon the shield he struck,
The scarlat with the blue he sliced it up,
Of his hauberk he's torn the folds and cut,
The steel and stock has through his body thrust.
60 Dead is that count, he's no more time to run.
Then say the Franks: "Baron, an evil luck! "
CXIX
Swift through the field Turpin the Archbishop
passed ;
Such shaven-cro\vn has never else sung Mass
Who with his limbs such prowess might com-
pass ;
65 To th'pagan said: "God send thee all that's
bad!
One thou hast slain for whom my heart is sad."
So his good horse forth at his bidding ran,
lIe's struck him then on his shield Toledan,
Until he flings him dead on the green grass.
51
\
CXX
1570 From the other part was a pagan Grandones,
Son of Capuel, the king of Capadoce.
He sate his horse, the which he called Marmore,
Never so swift was any bird in course;
He's loosed the reins, and spurring on that horse
1575 He's gone to strike Gerin with all his force;
The scarlat shield from's neck he's broken off,
And all his sark thereafter has he torn,
The ensign blue clean through his body's gone,
Until he flings him dead, on a high rock;
1580 His companion Gerer he's slain also,
And Berenger, and Guiun of Santone;
Next a rich duke he's gone to strike, Austore,
That held Valence and the Honour of the Rhone;
He's flung him dead; great joy the pagans shew.
1585 Then say the Franks : "Of ours how many fall."
CXXI
The count Rollanz, his sword with blood is
stained,
Well has he heard what way the Franks com-
plained ;
Such grief he has, his heart would split in twain:
To the pagan says: "God send thee every
shame !
1 590 One hast thou slain that dearly thou'lt repay."
He spurs his horse, that on with speed doth strain;
Which should forfeit, they both together came.
CXXII
Grandonie was both proof and valiant,
And virtuous, a vassal combatant.
1595 Upon the way there, he has met Rollant ;
He'd never seen, yet knew him at a glance,
By the proud face and those fine limbs he had,
By his regard, and by his contenance ;
He could not help but he grew faint thereat,
52
] >0 He would escape, nothing avail he can.
Struck him the count, with so great virtue, that
To the nose-plate he's all the helmet cracked,
Sliced through the nose and mouth and teeth he
has,
Hauberk close-mailed, and all the whole carcass,
] ) 5 Saddle of gold, with plates of silver flanked,
And of his horse has deeply scarred the back ;
He's slain them both, they'll make no more
attack:
The Spanish men in sorrow cry, " Alack! "
Then say the Franks: "He strikes well, our
warrant."
CXXIII
10 Marvellous is the battle in its speed,
The Franks there strike with vigour and with
heat,
Cutting through wrists and ribs and chines in-
deed,
Through garments to the lively flesh beneath ;
On the green grass the clear blood runs in
streams.
15 The pagans say: "No more we'll suffer, we.
Terra Major, Mahummet's curse on thee!
Beyond all men thy people are hardy ! "
There was not one but cried then: "Marsilie,
Canter, 0 king, thy succour now we need! "
CXXIV
)20 Marvellous is the battle now and grand,
The Franks there strike, their good brown spears
in hand.
Then had you seen such sorrowing of clans,
So many a slain, shattered and bleeding man !
Biting the earth, or piled there on their backs!
:> 25 The Sarrazins cannot such loss withstand.
Will they or nill, from off the field draw back;
By lively force chase them away the Franks.
AOI.
53
CXXV
Their martyrdom, his men's, Marsile has seen,
So he bids sound his horns and his buccines ;
1630 Then canters forth with all his great army.
Canters before a Sarrazin, Abisme,
More felon none was in that company ;
Cankered with guile and every felony ,
He fears not God, the Son of Saint Mary ;
1635 Black is that man as molten pitch that seethes;
Better he loves murder and treachery
Than to have all the gold of Galicie ;
Never has man beheld him sport for glee;
Yet vassalage he's shown, and great folly,
1640 So is he dear to th' felon king Marsile ;
Dragon he bears, to which his tribe rally.
That Archbishop could never love him, he ;
Seeing him there, to strike he's very keen,
Within himself he says all quietly:
1645 " This Sarrazin great heretick meseems,
Rather I'ld die, than not slay him clean,
Ne'er did I love coward nor cowardice."
AOI.
CXXVI
That Archbishop begins the fight again,
Sitting the horse which he took from Grossaille ;
I 650 -That was a king he had in Denmark slain ;-
That charger is swift and of noble race ;
Fine are his hooves, his legs are smooth and
straight,
Short are his thighs, broad crupper he displays,
Long are his ribs, aloft his spine is raised,
16 55 White is his tail and yellow is his mane,
Little his ears, and tawny all his face;
No beast is there, can match him in a race.
That Archbishop spurs on by vassalage,
He will not pause ere Abisme he assail ;
1660 So strikes that shield, is wonderfully arrayed,
Whereon are stones, amethyst and topaze,
Esterminals and carbuncles that blaze ;
54
A devil's gift it was, in Val Metase,
Who handed it to the admiral Galafes ;
,65 So Turpin strikes, spares him not anyway;
After that blow, he's worth no penny wage;
The carcass he's sliced, rib from rib away,
So flings him down dead in an empty place.
Then say the Franks: "He has great vassal-
age,
)70 With the Archbishop, surely the Cross is safe."
CXXVII
The count RolIanz calls upon Oliver:
" Sir companion, witness you'll freely bear,
The Archbishop is a right good chevalier,
None better is neath Heaven anywhere;
67 5 Well can he strike with lance and well with spear."
Ans,vers that count: "Support to him we'll
bear ! "
Upon that word the Franks again make yare;
Hard are the blows, slaughter and suffering
there,
For Christians too, most bitter grief and care.
680 Who could had seen Rollanz and Oliver
With their good swords to strike and to slaughter !
And the Archbishop lays on there with his spear.
Those that are dead, men well may hold them
dear.
In charters and in briefs is written clear,
( 68 5 Four thousand fell, and more, the tales declare.
Gainst four assaults easily did they fare,
But then the fifth brought heavy griefs to bear.
They all are slain, those Frankish chevaliers;
Only three-score, whom God was pleased to
spare,
16 9 0 Before these die, they'll sell them very dear.
AOI.
CXXVII!
The count Rollant great loss of his men sees,
His companion Olivier calls, and speaks:
S5
\
" Sir and comrade, in God's Name, That you
keeps,
Such good vassals you see lie here in heaps ;
1695 For France the Douce, fair country, may we
weep,
Of such barons long desolate she'll be.
Ah! King and friend, wherefore are you not
here ?
How, Oliver, brother, can we achieve?
And by what means our news to him repeat ? "
17 00 Says Oliver: "I know not how to seek;
Rather I'ld die than shame come of this feat."
AOI.
CXXIX
Then says Rollanz: "I'll wind this olifant,
If Charlès hear, where in the pass he stands,
I pledge you now they will return, the Franks."
17 0 5 Says Oliver: "Great shame would come of
that ;
And a reproach on every one, your clan,
That shall endure while each lives in the land,
When I implored, you would not do this act ;
Doing it now, no praise from me you'll have:
17 10 So wind your horn, but not by courage rash,
Seeing that both your arms with blood are
splashed."
Answers that count: "Fine blows I've struck
them back." AOI.
CXXX
Then says Rollant : " Strong it is now, our battle;
I'll wind my horn, so the King hears it, Charlès."
I 7 I 5 Says Oliver: "That act were not a vassal's.
When I implored you, comrade, you were wrath-
ful.
Were the King here, we had not borne such
damage.
Nor should we blame those \vith him there, his
army."
56
Says Oliver: "No"T by my beard, hereafter
20 If I may see my gentle sister Aide,
She in her arms, I swear, shall never clasp you."
AOI.
CXXXI
Then says Rollanz: "Wherefore so wroth with
me ? "
He answers him: "Comrade, it was your deed :
Vassalage comes by sense, and not folly;
25 Prudence more worth is than stupidity.
Here are Franks dead, all for your trickery ;
No more service to Carlun may we yield.
My lord were here now, had you trusted me,
And fought and won this battle then had we,
30 Taken or slain were the king Marsilie.
In your prowess, Rollanz, no good we've seen!
Charlès the great in vain your aid will seek-
None such as he till God His Judgement speak;-
Here must you die, and France in shame be
steeped;
'35 Here perishes our loyal company,
Before this night great severance and grief."
AOI.
CXXXII
That Archbishop has heard them, how they spoke,
His horse he pricks with his fine spurs of gold,
Coming to them he takes up his reproach:
74 0 " Sir Oliver, and you, Sir Rollant, both,
For God I pray, do not each other scold!
No help it were to us, the horn to blow,
But, none the less, it may be better so ;
The King will come, with vengeance that he
owes ;
745 These Spanish men never a\vay shall go.
Our Franks here, each descending from his
horse,
Will find us dead, and limb from body torn;
They'll take us hence, on biers and litters borne;
With pity and with grief for us they'll mourn;
57
1750 They'll bury each in some old minster-close;
No wolf nor swine nor dog shall gnaw our bones.'
Answers Rollant: "Sir, very well you spoke.'
AOI.
CXXXIII
Rollant hath set the olifant to his mouth,
He grasps it well, and with great virtue sounds.
1755 High are those peaks, afar it rings and loud,
Thirty great leagues they hear its echoes mount.
So Charlès heard, and all his comrades round;
Then said that King: "Battle they do, our
counts
And Guenelun answered, contrarious :
17 60 " That were a lie, in any other mouth."
AOI.
CXXXIV
The Count Rollanz, with sorrow and with pangs
And with great pain sounded his olifant :
Out of his mouth the clear blood leaped and ran,
About his brain the very temples cracked.
1765 Loud is its voice, that horn he holds in hand;
Charlès hath heard, where in the pass he stands,
And Neimès hears, and listen all the Franks.
Then says the King: " I hear his horn, Rollant's;
He'ld never sound, but he were in combat."
1770 Answers him Guenes: "It is no battle, that.
Now are you old, blossoming white and blanched,
Yet by such words you still appear infant.
You know full well the great pride of Rollant ;
Marvel it is, God stays so tolerant.
1775 Noples he took, not waiting your command;
Thence issued forth the Sarrazins, a band
With vassalage had fought against Rollant ;
1777A He slew them first, with Durendal his brand,
Then washed their blood with water from the
land;
So what he'd done might not be seen of man.
17 80 He for a hare goes all day, horn in hand ;
Before his peers in foolish jest he brags.
58
No race neath heav'n in field him dare attack.
So canter on! Nay, wherefore hold we back?
Terra Major is far away, our land." AOI.
CXXXV
785 The count Rollanz, though blood his mouth doth
stain,
And burst are both the temples of his brain,
His olifant he sounds with grief and pain;
Charlès hath heard, listen the Franks again.
"That horn," the King says, " hath a mighty
strain ! "
790 Answers Duke Neimes: "A baron blows with
pain !
Battle is there, indeed I see it plain,
He is betrayed, by one that still doth feign.
Equip you, sir, cry out your old refrain,
That noble band, go succour them amain!
795 Enough you've heard how Rollant doth complain."
CXXXVI
That Emperour hath bid them sound their horns.
The Franks dismount, and dress themselves for
war,
Put hauberks on, helmets and golden swords ;
Fine shields they have, and spears of length and
force
(800 Scarlat and blue and white their ensigns float.
His charger mounts each baron of the host ;
They spur with haste as through the pass they
go.
Nor was there one but thus to's neighbour
spoke :
" Now, ere he die, may we see Rollant, so
180 5 Ranged by his side we'll give some goodly blows."
But what avail? They've stayed too long below.
CXXXVII
That even-tide is light as was the day;
Their arffiour shines beneath the sun's clear ray,
59
Hauberks and helms throw off a dazzling flame,
18 10 And blazoned shields, flowered in bright array,
Also their spears, with golden ensigns gay.
That Emperour, he canters on with rage,
And all the Franks with wonder and dismay ;
There is not one can bitter tears restrain,
181 5 And for Rollant they're very sore afraid.
The King has bid them seize that county Guene,
And charged with him the scullions of his train ;
The master-cook he's called, Besgun by name:
" Guard me him well, his felony is plain,
1820 Who in my house vile treachery has made."
He holds him, and a hundred others takes
From the kitchen, both good and evil knaves;
Then Guenè's beard and both his cheeks they
shaved,
And four blows each with their closed fists they
gave,
182 5 They trounced him well with cudgels and with
staves,
And on his neck they clasped an iron chain ;
So like a bear enchained they held him safe,
On a pack-mule they set him in his shame:
Kept him till Charles should call for him again.
AOI.
CXXXVIII
1830 High were the peaks and shadowy and grand,
The valleys deep, the rivers swiftly ran.
Trumpets they blew in rear and in the van,
Till all again answered that olifant.
That Emperour canters ,vith fury mad,
18 35 And all the Franks dismay and wonder have;
There is not one but weeps and waxes sad
And all pray God that He will guard Rollant
Till in the field together they may stand;
There by his side they'll strike as well they can.
18 4 0 But what avail ? No good there is in that;
They're not in time; too long have they held
back. AOI.
60
CXXXIX
In his great rage on canters Charlemagne ;
Over his sark his beard is flowing plain.
Barons of France, in haste they spur and strain;
45 There is not one that can his wrath contain
That they are not with Rollant the Captain,
Whereas he fights the Sarrazins of Spain.
If he be struck, will not one soul remain.
-God! Sixty men are all now in his train !
Jso Never a king had better Capitains. AOI.
CXL
Rollant regards the barren mountain-sides;
Dead men of France, he sees so many lie,
And weeps for them as fits a gentle knight :
" Lords and barons, may God to you be kind!
g 55 And all your souls redeem for Paradise !
And let you there mid holy flowers lie !
Better vassals than you saw never I.
Ever you've served me, and so long a time,
By you Carlon hath conquered kingdoms wide ;
860 That Emperour reared you for evil plight!
Douce land of France, 0 very precious clime,
Laid desolate by such a sour exile !
Barons of France, for me I've seen you die,
And no support, no warrant could I find;
865 God be your aid, Who never yet hath lied!
I must not fail now, brother, by your side ;
Save I be slain, for sorrow shall I die.
Sir companion, let us again go strike! "
CXLI
The count Rollanz, back to the field then hieing
87 0 Holds Durendal, and like a vassal striking
Faldrun of Pui has through the middle slicèd,
With twenty-four of all they rated highest;
Was never man, for vengeance shewed such
liking.
Even as a stag before the hounds goes flying,
61
1875 Before Rollanz the pagans scatter, frightened.
Says the Archbishop: " You deal now very
wisely!
Such valour should he she\v that is bred knightly,
And beareth arms, and a good charger rideth ;
In battle should be strong and proud and
sprightly;
1880 Or otherwise he is not worth a shilling,
Should be a monk in one of those old minsters,
Where, day by day, he'ld pray for us poor
sinners. "
Answers Rollant: "Strike on; no quarter give
them ! "
Upon these words Franks are again beginning;
188 5 Very great loss they suffer then, the Christians.
CXLII
The man who knows, for him there's no prison,
In such a fight with keen defence lays on ;
Wherefore the Franks are fiercer than lions.
Marsile you'd seen go as a brave baron,
1890 Sitting his horse, the which he calls Gaignon ;
He spurs it well, going to strike Bevon,
That was the lord of Beaune and of Dijon,
His shield he breaks, his hauberk has undone,
So flings him dead, without condition ;
1895 Next he hath slain Yvoerie and Ivan,
Also with them Gerard of Russillon.
The count Rollanz, being not far him from,
To th'pagan says: "Confound thee our Lord
God!
So wrongfully you've slain my companions,
19 00 A blow you'll take, ere we apart be gone,
And of my sword the name I'll bid you con."
He goes to strike him, as a brave baron,
And his right hand the count clean slices off;
Then takes the head of J ursaleu the blond ;
19 0 5 That was the son of king Marsilion.
Pagans cry out: "Assist us now, Mahom !
God of our race, avenge us on Carlon !
62
Into this land he's sent us such felons
That will not leave the fight before they drop."
] 10 Says each to each: "Nay let us fly I" Upon
That word, they're fled, an hundred thousand
gone ;
Call them who may, they'll never more come on.
AOI.
CXLIII
But what avail? Though fled be Marsilies,
He's left behind his uncle, the alcaliph
. I S Who holds Alferne, Kartagene, Garmalie,
And Ethiope, a cursèd land indeed;
The blackamoors from there are in his keep,
Broad in the nose they are and flat in the ear,
Fifty thousand and more in company.
20 These canter forth with arrogance and heat,
Then they cry out the pagans' rallying-cheer;
And Rollant says: "Martyrdom we'll receive;
Not long to live, I know it well, have we ;
Felon he's named that sells his body cheap I
2S Strike on, my lords, with burnished swords and
keen ;
Contest each inch your life and death between,
That ne'er by us Douce France in shame be
steeped.
When Charles my lord shall come into this field,
Such discipline of Sarrazins he'll see,
13 0 For one of ours he'll find them dead fifteen;
He will not fail, but bless us all in peace."
AOI.
CXLIV
When Rollant sees those misbegotten men,
Who are more black than ink is on the pen
With no part white, only their teeth except,
35 1'hen says that count: "I know now very well
That here to die we're bound, as I can tell.
Strike on, the Franks! For so I recommend."
Says Oliver: "Who holds back, is condemnedl"
