The Emperor homeward hath turned his face, To Gailne city he marched apace, (By Roland erst in ruins strown-- Deserted thence it lay and lone, Until a hundred years had flown).

Here waits he, word of Gan to gain With tribute of the land of Spain; And here, at earliest break of day, Came Gan where the encampment lay.

LV

The Emperor rose with the day dawn clear, Failed not Matins and Ma.s.s to hear, Sate at his tent on the fair green sward, Roland and Olivier nigh their lord, Duke Naimes and all his peers of fame.

Gan the felon, the perjured, came-- False was the treacherous tale he gave,-- And these his words, "May G.o.d you save!

I bear you Saragossa's keys, Vast the treasure I bring with these, And twenty hostages; guard them well, The n.o.ble Marsil bids me tell-- Not on him shall your anger fall, If I fetch not the Algalif here withal; For mine eyes beheld, beneath their ken, Three hundred thousand armed men, With sword and casque and coat of mail, Put forth with him on the sea to sail, All for hate of the Christian creed, Which they would neither hold nor heed.

They had not floated a league but four, When a tempest down on their galleys bore Drowned they lie to be seen no more.

If the Algalif were but living wight, He had stood this morn before your sight.

Sire, for the Saracen king I say, Ere ever a month shall pa.s.s away, On into France he will follow free, Bend to our Christian law the knee, Homage swear for his Spanish land, And hold the realm at your command."

"Now praise to G.o.d," the Emperor said, "And thanks, my Ganelon, well you sped."

A thousand clarions then resound, The sumpter-mules are girt on ground, For France, for France the Franks are bound.

LVI

Karl the Great hath wasted Spain, Her cities sacked, her castles ta'en; But now "My wars are done," he cried, "And home to gentle France we ride."

Count Roland plants his standard high Upon a peak against the sky; The Franks around encamping lie.

Alas! the heathen host the while, Through valley deep and dark defile, Are riding on the Chistians' track, All armed in steel from breast to back; Their lances poised, their helmets laced, Their falchions glittering from the waist, Their bucklers from the shoulder swung, And so they ride the steeps among, Till, in a forest on the height, They rest to wait the morning light, Four hundred thousand crouching there.

O G.o.d! the Franks are unaware.

LVII

The day declined, night darkling crept, And Karl, the mighty Emperor, slept.

He dreamt a dream: he seemed to stand In Cizra's pa.s.s, with lance in hand.

Count Ganelon came athwart, and lo, He wrenched the aspen spear him fro, Brandished and shook it aloft with might, Till it brake in pieces before his sight; High towards heaven the splinters flew; Karl awoke not, he dreamed anew.

LVIII

In his second dream he seemed to dwell In his palace of Aix, at his own Chapelle.

A bear seized grimly his right arm on, And bit the flesh to the very bone.

Anon a leopard from Arden wood, Fiercely flew at him where he stood.

When lo! from his hall, with leap and bound, Sprang to the rescue a gallant hound.

First from the bear the ear he tore, Then on the leopard his fangs he bore.

The Franks exclaim, "'Tis a stirring fray, But who the victor none may say."

Karl awoke not--he slept alway.

LIX

The night wore by, the day dawn glowed, Proudly the Emperor rose and rode, Keenly and oft his host he scanned.

"Lords, my barons, survey this land, See the pa.s.ses so straight and steep: To whom shall I trust the rear to keep?"

"To my stepson Roland:" Count Gan replied.

"Knight like him have you none beside."

The Emperor heard him with moody brow.

"A living demon," he said, "art thou; Some mortal rage hath thy soul possessed.

To head my vanguard, who then were best?"

"Ogier," he answered, "the gallant Dane, Braver baron will none remain."

LX

Roland, when thus the choice he saw, Spake, full knightly, by knightly law: "Sir Stepsire, well may I hold thee dear, That thou hast named me to guard the rear; Karl shall lose not, if I take heed, Charger, or palfrey, or mule or steed, Hackney or sumpter that groom may lead; The reason else our swords shall tell."

"It is sooth," said Gan, "and I know it well."

LXI

Fiercely once more Count Roland turned To speak the scorn that in him burned.

"Ha! deem'st thou, dastard, of dastard race, That I shall drop the glove in place, As in sight of Karl thou didst the mace?"

LXII

Then of his uncle he made demand: "Yield me the bow that you hold in hand; Never of me shall the tale be told, As of Ganelon erst, that it failed my hold."

Sadly the Emperor bowed his head, With working finger his beard he spread, Tears in his own despite he shed.

LXIII

But soon Duke Naimes doth by him stand-- No better va.s.sal in all his band.

"You have seen and heard it all, O sire, Count Roland waxeth much in ire.

On him the choice for the rear-guard fell, And where is baron could speed so well?

Yield him the bow that your arm hath bent, And let good succor to him be lent."

The Emperor reached it forth, and lo!

He gave, and Roland received, the bow.

LXIV

"Fair Sir Nephew, I tell thee free.

Half of my host will I leave with thee."

"G.o.d be my judge," was the count's reply, "If ever I thus my race belie.

But twenty thousand with me shall rest, Bravest of all your Franks and best; The mountain pa.s.ses in safety tread, While I breathe in life you have nought to dread."

LXV

Count Roland sprang to a hill-top's height, And donned his peerless armor bright; Laced his helm, for a baron made; Girt Durindana, gold-hilted blade; Around his neck he hung the shield, With flowers emblazoned was the field; Nor steed but Veillantif will ride; And he grasped his lance with its pennon's pride.

White was the pennon, with rim of gold; Low to the handle the fringes rolled.

Who are his lovers men now may see; And the Franks exclaim, "We will follow thee."

LXVI