The Song of Roland. Unknown

        Then says Marsile "Guenes, 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.

        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 Charles bred.

        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?

        Him with such grace hath God illumined,

        Better to die than leave his banneret."

        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.

        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;

        No such vassal goes neath the dome of heaven;

        And proof also is Oliver his henchman;

        The dozen peers, whom Charl'es holds so precious,

        These are his guards, with other thousands twenty.

        Charles is secure, he holds no man in terror."

                            AOI.

        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.

        "Fair Master Guenes," says Marsilies the King,

        "Such men are mine, fairer than tongue can sing,

        Of knights I can four hundred thousand bring

        So I may fight with Franks and with their King."

        Answers him Guenes: "Not on this journeying

        Save of pagans a great loss suffering.

        Leave you the fools, wise counsel following;

        To the Emperour such wealth of treasure give

        That every Frank at once is marvelling.

        For twenty men that you shall now send in

        To France the Douce he will repair, that King;

        In the rereward will follow after him

        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.

        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;

        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,

        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,

        Nor all your life know war again, but peace.

                            AOI.

        "Could one achieve that Rollant's life was lost,

        Charle's right arm were from his body torn;

        Though there remained his marvellous great host,

        He'ld not again assemble in such force;

        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.

        Said Marsilie—but now what more said they?—

        "No faith in words by oath unbound I lay;

        Swear me the death of Rollant on that day."

        Then answered Guene: "So be it, as you say."

        On