So hold your ground, we be not overborne!"

Then say the Franks "Shame take him that goes off: If we must die, then perish one and all."

AOI.

Lx.x.xIII

Says Oliver: "Pagans in force abound, While of us Franks but very few I count; Comrade Rollanz, your horn I pray you sound!

If Charles hear, he'll turn his armies round."

Answers Rollanz: "A fool I should be found; In France the Douce would perish my renown.

With Durendal I'll lay on thick and stout, In blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I'll drown.

Felon pagans to th' pa.s.s shall not come down; I pledge you now, to death they all are bound.

AOI.

Lx.x.xIV

"Comrade Rollanz, sound the olifant, I pray; If Charles hear, the host he'll turn again; Will succour us our King and baronage."

Answers Rollanz: "Never, by G.o.d, I say, For my misdeed shall kinsmen hear the blame, Nor France the Douce fall into evil fame!

Rather stout blows with Durendal I'll lay, With my good sword that by my side doth 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."

Lx.x.xV

"Comrade Rollanz, once sound your olifant!

If Charles hear, where in the pa.s.s he stands, I pledge you now, they'll turn again, the Franks."

"Never, by G.o.d," then answers him Rollanz, "Shall it be said by any living man, 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.

Franks are good men; like va.s.sals brave they'll stand; Nay, Spanish men from death have no warrant."

Lx.x.xVI

Says Oliver: "In this I see no blame; I have beheld the Sarrazins of Spain; Covered with them, the mountains and the vales, The wastes I saw, and all 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 G.o.d His Angels and His Saints, 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."

Lx.x.xVII

Pride hath Rollanz, wisdom Olivier hath; And both of them shew marvellous courage; Once they are horsed, once they have donned their arms, Rather they'd die than from the battle pa.s.s.

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 Pa.s.s 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 a.s.sault."

AOI.

Lx.x.xVIII

When Rollant sees that now must be combat, More fierce he's found than lion or leopard; The Franks he calls, and Oliver commands: "Now say no more, my friends, nor thou, comrade.

That Emperour, who left us Franks on guard, A thousand score stout men he set apart, And well he knows, not one will prove coward.

Man for his lord should suffer with 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 with Durendal, With my good sword that was the King's reward.

So, if I die, who has it afterward n.o.ble va.s.sal's he well may say it was."

Lx.x.xIX

From the other part is the Archbishop Turpin, He p.r.i.c.ks 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 him: To Christendom good service offering.

Battle you'll have, you all are bound to it, For with your eyes you see the Sarrazins.

Pray for G.o.d's grace, confessing Him your sins!

For your souls' health, I'll absolution give So, though you die, blest martyrs shall you live, Thrones you shall win in the great Paradis."

The Franks dismount, upon the ground are lit.

That Archbishop G.o.d's Benediction gives, For their penance, good blows to strike he bids.

XC

The Franks arise, and stand upon their feet, They're well absolved, and from their sins made clean, And the Archbishop has signed them with G.o.d'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.

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 wealth is his to keep; That Emperour vengeance for us must wreak.

King Marsilies hath bargained for us cheap; At the sword's point he yet shall pay our meed."

AOI.

XCI

To Spanish pa.s.s is Rollanz now going On Veillantif, his good steed, galloping; He is well armed, pride is in his bearing, 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 hand flutters the golden fringe: n.o.ble his limbs, his face clear and smiling.

His companion goes after, following, The men of France their warrant find in him.

Proudly he looks towards the Sarrazins, And to the Franks sweetly, himself humbling; And courteously has said to them this thing: "My lords barons, go now your pace holding!

Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking; n.o.ble and fair reward this day shall bring, Was never won by any Frankish King."

Upon these words the hosts are come touching.

AOI.

XCII

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.

So canter on, with what prowess you may!

Lords and barons, firmly your ground maintain!

Be minded well, I pray you in G.o.d's Name, Stout blows to strike, to give as you shall take.

Forget the cry of Charles we never may."

Upon this word the Franks cry out amain.

Who then had heard them all "Monjoie!" acclaim Of va.s.salage might well recall the tale.

They canter forth, G.o.d! with what proud parade, p.r.i.c.king their spurs, the better speed to gain; 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.