Roland hath mounted his charger on; Sir Olivier to his side hath gone; Gerein and his fellow in arms, Gerier; Otho the Count, and Berengier, Samson, and with him Anseis old, Gerard of Roussillon, the bold.

Thither the Gascon Engelier sped; "I go," said Turpin, "I pledge my head;"

"And I with thee," Count Walter said; "I am Roland's man, to his service bound."

So twenty thousand knights were found.

LXVII

Roland beckoned Count Walter then.

"Take of our Franks a thousand men; Sweep the heights and the pa.s.ses clear, That the Emperor's host may have nought to fear."

"I go," said Walter, "at your behest,"

And a thousand Franks around him pressed.

They ranged the heights and pa.s.ses through, Nor for evil tidings backward drew, Until seven hundred swords outflew.

The Lord of Belferna's land, that day, King Almaris met him in deadly fray.

LXVIII

Through Roncesvalles the march began; Ogier, the baron, led the van; For them was neither doubt nor fear, Since Roland rested to guard the rear, With twenty thousand in full array: Theirs the battle--be G.o.d their stay.

Gan knows all; in his felon heart Scarce hath he courage to play his part.

LXIX

High were the peaks, and the valleys deep, The mountains wondrous dark and steep; Sadly the Franks through the pa.s.ses wound, Full fifteen leagues did their tread resound.

To their own great land they are drawing nigh, And they look on the fields of Gascony.

They think of their homes and their manors there, Their gentle spouses and damsels fair.

Is none but for pity the tear lets fall; But the anguish of Karl is beyond them all.

His sister's son at the gates of Spain Smites on his heart, and he weeps amain.

LXX

On the Spanish marches the twelve abide, With twice ten thousand Franks beside.

Fear to die have they none, nor care: But Karl returns into France the fair; Beneath his mantle his face he hides.

Naimes, the duke, at his bridle rides.

"Say, sire, what grief doth your heart oppress?"

"To ask," he said, "brings worse distress; I cannot but weep for heaviness.

By Gan the ruin of France is wrought.

In an angel's vision, last night, methought He wrested forth from my hand the spear: 'Twas he gave Roland to guard the rear.

G.o.d! should I lose him, my nephew dear, Whom I left on a foreign soil behind, His peer on earth I shall never find!"

LXXI

Karl the Great cannot choose but weep, For him hath his host compa.s.sion deep; And for Roland, a marvellous boding dread.

It was Gan, the felon, this treason bred; He hath heathen gifts of silver and gold, Costly raiment, and silken fold, Horses and camels, and mules and steeds.-- But lo! King Marsil the mandate speeds, To his dukes, his counts, and his va.s.sals all, To each almasour and amiral.

And so, before three suns had set, Four hundred thousand in muster met.

Through Saragossa the tabors sound; On the loftiest turret they raise Mahound: Before him the Pagans bend and pray, Then mount and fiercely ride away, Across Cerdagna, by vale and height, Till stream the banners of France in sight, Where the peers of Carlemaine proudly stand, And the shock of battle is hard at hand.

LXXII

Up to King Marsil his nephew rode, With a mule for steed, and a staff for goad: Free and joyous his accents fell, "Fair Sir King, I have served you well.

So let my toils and my perils tell.

I have fought and vanquished for you in field.

One good boon for my service yield,-- Be it mine on Roland to strike the blow; At point of lance will I lay him low; And so Mohammed to aid me deign, Free will I sweep the soil of Spain, From the gorge of Aspra to Dourestan, Till Karl grows weary such wars to plan.

Then for your life have you won repose."

King Marsil on him his glove bestows.

LXXIII

His nephew, while the glove he pressed, Proudly once more the king addressed.

"Sire, you have crowned my dearest vow; Name me eleven of your barons now, In battle against the twelve to bide."

Falsaron first to the call replied; Brother to Marsil, the king, was he; "Fair Sir nephew, I go with thee; In mortal combat we front, to-day, The rear-guard of the grand array.

Foredoomed to die by our spears are they."

LXXIV

King Corsablis the next drew nigh, Miscreant Monarch of Barbary; Yet he spake like va.s.sal staunch and bold-- Blench would he not for all G.o.d's gold.

The third, Malprimis, of Brigal's breed, More fleet of foot than the fleetest steed, Before King Marsil he raised his cry, "On unto Roncesvalles I: In mine encounter shall Roland die."

LXXV

An Emir of Balaguet came in place, Proud of body, and fair of face; Since first he sprang on steed to ride, To wear his harness was all his pride; For feats of prowess great laud he won; Were he Christian, n.o.bler baron none.

To Marsil came he, and cried aloud, "Unto Roncesvalles mine arm is vowed; May I meet with Roland and Olivier, Or the twelve together, their doom is near.

The Franks shall perish in scathe and scorn; Karl the Great, who is old and worn, Weary shall grow his hosts to lead, And the land of Spain be for ever freed."

King Marsil's thanks were his gracious meed.

LXXVI

A Mauritanian Almasour (Breathed not in Spain such a felon Moor) Stepped unto Marsil, with braggart boast: "Unto Roncesvalles I lead my host, Full twenty thousand, with lance and shield.

Let me meet with Roland upon the field, Lifelong tears for him Karl shall yield."

LXXVII

Turgis, Count of Tortosa came.

Lord of the city, he bears its name.

Scathe to the Christian to him is best, And in Marsil's presence he joined the rest.

To the king he said, "Be fearless found; Peter of Rome cannot mate Mahound.

If we serve him truly, we win this day; Unto Roncesvalles I ride straightway.

No power shall Roland from slaughter save: See the length of my peerless glaive, That with Durindana to cross I go, And who the victor, ye then shall know.

Sorrow and shame old Karl shall share, Crown on earth never more shall wear."