CHANSON DE ROLAND

Verses 1 to 87

Charles Scott Moncrief (London, 1919)

1

Charles the King, our Lord and Sovereign,
Full seven years hath sojourned 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.

2

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 twenty thousand, stood.
Called he forth then his counts, also his dukes:
"My Lords, give ear to our impending doom:
That Emperour, Charles 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.

3

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;
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."

4

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 Charles 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' hostage 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.

5

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 Jouner, Malbien from over sea,
And Blancandrin, good reason to decree:
Ten hath he called, were first in felony.
"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,
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.

6

King Marsilies, his council finishing,
Says to his men : "Go now, my lords, to him,
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;
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."

7

Ten snow-white mules then ordered Marsilie,
Gifts of a King, 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,
Yet cannot guard himself from treachery.

8

Merry and bold is now that Emperour,
Cordres he holds, the walls are tumbled down,
His catapults have battered town and tow'r.
Great good treasure his knights have placed in pound,
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,
Sansun the Duke and Anseis the proud,
Gefreid d'Anjou, that bears his gonfaloun;
There too Gerin and Geriers are found.
Where they are found, is seen a mighty crowd,
Fifteen thousand, come out of France the Douce.
On 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,
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.
The messengers, on foot they get them down,
And in salute full courteously they lout.

9

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!
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 dromedrays,
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.

10

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."

11

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.
That Emperour does with the morning rise;
Matins and Mass are said then in his sight.
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.

12

That Emperour, beneath a pine he sits,
Calls his barons, his council to begin:
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,
And among them the Count Rollant came in,
And Oliver, so proof and so gentil.
Franks out of France, a thousand chivalry;
Guenes came there, that wrought the treachery.
The Council then began, which ended ill.

13

"My Lords Barons," says the Emperour then, Charles,
"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,
Four hundred mules with gold Arabian charged,
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:
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!"

14

That Emperour hath ended now his speech.
The Count Rollanz, he never will agree,
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,
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.
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.
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."

15

That Emperour he sits with lowering front,
He clasps his chin, his beard his fingers tug,
Good word nor bad, his nephew not one.
Franks hold their peace, but only Guenelun
Springs to his feet, and comes before Carlun;
Right haughtily his reason he's begun,
And to the King: "Believe not any one,
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
Next he'll receive our rule of Christendom
Who shall advise, this bidding be not done,
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."

16

And after him came Neimes out, the third,
Better vassal there was not in the world;
And to the King: "Now rightly have you heard
Guenes the Count, what answer he returned.
Wisdom was there, but let it well be heard.
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,
Sinners were they that would to war return;
With hostages his faith he would secure;
Let this great war no longer now endure."
"Well said the Duke." Franks utter in their turn.

17

"My lords barons, say whom shall we send up
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,
You'll not this year so far from me remove;
Go sit you down, for none hath called you up."

18

"My lords barons, say whom now can we send
To th' Sarrazin that Sarraguce defends?"
Answers Rollanz: "I might go very well."
"Certes, you'll not," says Oliver his friend,
"For your courage is fierce unto the end,
I am afraid you would misapprehend.
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.

19

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 clove, 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."

20

"Franks, chevaliers," says the Emperour then, Charles,
"Choose ye me out a baron from my marches,
To Marsilie shall carry back my answer."
Then says Rollanz: "There's Guenes, my goodfather."
Answer the Franks: "For he can wisely manage;
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 arched
So fair he seemed that all the court regarded.
Says to Rollant: "Fool, wherefore art so wrathful?
All men know well that I am thy goodfather;
Thou hast decreed, to Marsiliun I travel.
Then if God grant that I return hereafter,
I'll follow thee with such a force of passion
That will endure so long as life may last thee."
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;
If the King will, I'm ready to go rather."I.

21

Answers him Guene: "Thou shalt not go for me.
Thou'rt not my man, nor am I lord of thee.
Charles commnds that I do his decree,
To Sarraguce going to Marsilie;
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.

22

When Guenes sees that Rollant laughs at it,
Such grief he has, for rage he's like to split,
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.

23

"To Sarraguce I must repair, 'tis plain;
Whence who goes there returns no more again.
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.
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."

24

Then says the King: "Guenes, before me stand;
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;
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
Basile had none nor his brother Basant."

25

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! What may that mean now?
By this message great loss shall come about."
"Lordings," says Guene, "You'll soon have news enow."

26

"Now," Guenes said, "give me your orders, Sire;
Since I must go, why need I linger, I?"
Then said the King "In Jesu's Name and mine!"
With his right hand he has absolved and signed,
Then to his care the wand and brief confides.

27

Guenes the count goes to his hostelry,
Finds for the road his garments and his gear,
All of the best he takes that may appear:
Spurs of fine gold he fastens on his feet,
And to his side Murgles 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,
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.
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.
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 Baldewin, my son, whom you have seen;
His rights accord and help him in his need."
-- Rides down the road, and on his way goes he.

28

Guenes canters on, and halts beneath a tree;
Where Sarrazins assembled he may see,
With Blancandrins, who abides his company.
Cunning and keen they speak then, each to each,
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?"
Then answers Guene "So great courage hath he;
Never was man against him might succeed."

29

Says Blancandrins "Gentle the Franks are found;
Yet a great wrong these dukes do and these counts
Unto their lord, being in counsel proud;
Him and themselves they harry and confound."
Guenes replies: "There is none such, without
Only Rollanz, whom shame will yet find out.
Once in the shade the King had sate him down;
His nephew came, in sark of iron brown,
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,
Each day t'wards death he goes a little down,
When he be slain, shall peace once more abound."

30

Says Blancandrins: "A cruel man, Rollant,
That would bring down to bondage every man,
And challenges the peace of every land.
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.
The King himself holds all by his command;
From hence to the East he'll conquer sea and land."

31

Cantered so far then Blancandrins and Guene
Till each by each a covenant had made
And sought a plan, how Rollant might be slain.
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,
1 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.

32

Blancandrin comes before Marsiliun,
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 Charlun,
Both his two hands he raised against the sun,
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."

33

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
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
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,
He made to strike: they turned aside his aim.

34

King Marsilies is turn'ed 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;
And says to it: "O 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 away
Before these chiefs thy temper had essayed."
"Let us prevent this fight:" the pagans say.

35

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 wreak;
Rather you should listen to hear him speak."
"Sire," Guenes 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 will tell, so long as I be free,
What Charlemagne, that Royal Majesty,
Bids me inform his mortal enemy."
Guenes had on a cloke of sable skin,
And over it a veil Alexandrin;
These he throws down, they're held by Blancandrin;
But not his sword, he'll not leave hold of it,
In his right hand he grasps the golden hilt.
The pagans say. "A noble baron, this."

36

Before the King's face Guenes drawing near
Says to him "Sire, wherefore this rage and fear?
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.
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,
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.

37

Now Marsilies, is turn'ed white with ire,
He breaks the seal and casts the wax aside,
Looks in the brief, sees what the King did write:
"Charles commands, who holds all France by might,
I bear in mind his bitter grief and ire;
'Tis of Basan and 's brother Basilye,
Whose heads I took on th' hill by Haltilye.
If I would save my body now alive,
I must despatch my uncle the alcalyph,
Charles will not love me ever otherwise."
After, 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 Guenes hears, he draws his sword outright,
Against the trunk he stands, beneath that pine.

38

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,
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,
1 And through the orchard straight to the King they wend.
Of treason there make lawless parliament.

39

"Fair Master Guenes," says then King Marsilie,
"I did you now a little trickery,
Making to strike, I shewed my great fury.
1 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."

40

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."

41

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."

42

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."

43

"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.

44

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.

45

"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.

46

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 the relics, are in his sword Murgles,
Treason he's sworn, forsworn his faith away.

47

Was a fald-stool there, made of olifant.
1 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 himself and all his band,
1 And verily he'll slay him if he can.
And answered Guenes: "So be it, as you command!"

48

In haste there came a pagan Valdabrun,
Warden had been to King Marsiliun,
Smiling and clear, he's said to Guenelun,
"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."
Guenes the count answers: "It shall-be done."
Then, cheek and chin, kissed each the other one.

49

After there came a pagan, Climorins,
Smiling and clear to Guenelun begins:
"Take now my helm, better is none than this;
But give us aid, on Rollant the marquis,
By what device we may dishonour bring."
"It shall be done." Count Guenes answered him;
On mouth and cheek then each the other kissed.

50

In haste there came the Queen forth, Bramimound;
"I love you well, sir," said she to the count,
"For prize you dear my lord and all around;
Here for your wife I have two brooches found,
Amethysts and jacynths in golden mount;
More worth are they than all the wealth of Roum;
Your Emperour has none such, I'll be bound."
He's taken them, and in his hosen pouched.

51

The King now calls Malduiz, that guards his treasure.
"Tribute for Charles, say, is it now made ready?"
He answers him: "Ay, Sire, for here is plenty
Silver and gold on hundred camels seven,
And twenty men, the gentlest under heaven."

52

Marsilie's arm Guene's shoulder doth enfold;
He's said to him: "You are both wise and bold.
Now, by the law that you most sacred hold,
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,
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: "My time is nearly past."
His charger mounts, and on his journey starts.

53

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.
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.

54

In morning time is risen the Emperere,
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,
Neimes the Duke, and many others there.
Guenes arrived, the felon perjurer,
Begins to speak, with very cunning air,
Says to the King: "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 with care.
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.
They followed him, right to the sea they'll 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;
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,
He will accept the laws you hold and fear;
Joining his hands, will do you homage there,
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."
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.

55

Charles the Great that land of Spain had wasted,
Her castles ta'en, her cities violated.
Then said the King, his war was now abated.
Towards Douce France that Emperour has hasted.
Upon a lance Rollant his ensign raised,
High on a cliff against the sky 'twas placed;
The Franks in camp through all that country baited.
Cantered pagans, through those wide valleys raced,
Hauberks they wore and sarks with iron plated,
Swords to their sides were girt, their helms were laced,
Lances made sharp, escutcheons newly painted:
There in the mists beyond the peaks remained
The day of doom four hundred thousand waited.
God! what a grief. Franks know not what is fated.

56

Passes the day, the darkness is grown deep.
That Emperour, rich Charles, lies asleep;
Dreams that he stands in the great pass of Size,
In his two hands his ashen spear he sees;
Guenes the count that spear from him doth seize,
Brandishes it and twists it with such ease,
That flown into the sky the flinders seem.
Charles sleeps on nor wakens from his dream.

57

And after this another vision saw,
In France, at Aix, in his Chapelle once more,
That his right arm an evil bear did gnaw;
Out of Ardennes he saw a leopard stalk,
His body dear did savagely assault;
But then there dashed a harrier from the hall,
Leaping in the air he sped to Charles 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,
Yet which might win they knew not, in his thought.
Charles sleeps on, nor wakens he for aught.

58

Passes the night and opens the clear day;
That Emperour canters in brave array,
Looks through the host often and everyway;
"My lords barons," at length doth Charles 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."
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,
"You've no baron were better in that place."

59

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.
Charles the King will never lose by me,
As I know well, nor charger nor palfrey,
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."
Answers him Guenes: "I know; 'tis true in-deed."

60

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,
As then from thee the wand fell before Charles?"

61

"Right Emperour," says the baron Rollanz,
"Give me the bow you carry in your hand;
Neer in reproach, I know, will any man
Say that it fell and lay upon the land,
As Guenes let fall, when he received the wand."
That Emperour with lowered front doth stand,
He tugs his beard, his chin is in his hand
Tears fill his eyes, he cannot them command.

62

And after that is come duke Neimes furth,
(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 rereward is conferred;
No baron else have you, would do that work.
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.

63

That Emperour, Rollanz then calleth he:
"Fair nephew mine, know this in verity;
Half of my host I leave you presently;
Retain you them; your safeguard this shall be."
Then says the count: "I will not have them, me I
Confound me God, if I fail in the deed!
Good valiant Franks, a thousand score I'll keep.
Go through the pass in all security,
While I'm alive there's no man you need fear."

64

The count Rollanz has mounted his charger.
Beside him came his comrade Oliver,
Also Gerins and the proud count Geriers,
And Otes came, and also Berengiers,
Old Anseis, 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.
"And I'm with you," says then the count Gualtiers,
"I'm Rollant's man, I may not leave him there."
A thousand score they choose of chevaliers.

65

Gualter del Hum he calls, that Count Rollanz;
"A thousand Franks take, out of France our land;
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;
They'll not come down, howe'er the news be bad,
Ere from their sheaths swords seven hundred flash.
King Almaris, Belserne for kingdom had,
On the evil day he met them in combat.

66

High are the peaks, the valleys shadowful,
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,
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;
Pity him seized; he could but weep for rue.

67

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;
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 question makes.
So great my grief I cannot but complain.
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.
God! If he's lost, I'll not outlive that shame."

68

Charles the great, he cannot but deplore.
And with him Franks an hundred thousand mourn,
Who for Rollanz have marvellous remorse.
The felon Guenes had treacherously wrought;
From pagan kin 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 Marsilies hath called,
Counts and viscounts and dukes and almacours,
And the admirals, and cadets nobly born;
Within three days come hundreds 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.

69

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.

70

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.
Choose now for me eleven more baruns,
So I may fight those dozen companions."
First before all there answers Falfarun;
-- 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."

71

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,
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."

72

An admiral is there of Balaguet;
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 famoused;
Christian were he, he'd shewn good baronhead.
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.
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.

73

An 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, with shields and lances brave.
Find I Rollanz, with death I'll him acquaint; 
Day shall not dawn but Charles will make his plaint."

74

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,
Charles the old will suffer grief and wrong,
No more on earth his crown will he put on."

75

From the other part, Escremiz of Valtrenne,
A Sarrazin, that land was his as well.
Before Marsile 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 condemned are to death;
Franks shall be slain, and France lie deserted.
Of good vassals will Charles be richly bled."

76

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,
Give me your aid, and thither lead my band."
They answer him: "Sire, even as you command.
We will assault Olivier and Rollant,
The dozen peers from death have no warrant,
For these our swords are trusty and trenchant,
In scalding blood we'll dye their blades scarlat.
Franks shall be slain, and Chares be right 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."

77

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.
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;
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 abased be.
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,
Till we can lie in th' burgh of Saint Denise."
The pagan king has bowed his head down deep.

78

From the other part, Chemubles of Muneigre.
Right to the ground his hair swept either way;
He for a jest would bear a heavier weight
Than four yoked mules, beneath their load that strain.
That land he had, God's curse on it was plain.
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 Chemubles "My sword is in its place,
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."
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.

79

Ready they make hauberks Sarrazinese,
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,
1 They've left their mules behind, and their palfreys,
Their chargers mount, and canter knee by knee.
Fair shines the sun, the day is bright and clear,
Light bums again from all their polished gear.
A thousand horns they sound, more proud to seem;
1 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;
11 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 neer sung of us shall be.
11 Pagans are wrong: Christians are right indeed.
Evil example will never come of me."

80

Oliver mounts upon a lofty peak,
Looks to his right along the valley green,
The pagan tribes approaching there appear;
1 He calls Rollanz, 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,
1 Who chose us out before the King our chief."
Answers the count Rollanz: "Olivier, cease.
That man is my good-father; hold thy peace."

81

Upon a peak is Oliver mounted,
Kingdom of Spain he sees before him spread,
1 And Sarrazins, so many gathered.
Their helmets gleam, with gold are jewelled,
Also their shields, their hauberks orfreyed,
Also their swords, ensigns on spears fixed.
Rank beyond rank could not be numbered,
1 So many there, no measure could he set.
In his own heart he's sore astonished,
Fast as he could, down from the peak hath sped
Comes to the Franks, to them his tale hath said.

82

Says Oliver: "Pagans from there I saw;
1 Never on earth did any man see more.
Gainst us their shields an hundred thousand bore,
That laced helms and shining hauberks wore;
And, bolt upright, their bright brown spearheads shone.
Battle we'll have as never was before.
1 Lords of the Franks, God keep you in valour!
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."

83

Says Oliver: "Pagans in force abound,
1 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.
1 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.

84

"Comrade Rollanz, sound the olifant, I pray;
1 If Charles hear, the host he'll 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!
1 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."

85

"Comrade Rollanz, once sound your olifant!
If Charles hear, where in the pass he stands,
I pledge you now, they'll turn again, the Franks."
"Never, by God," 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 vassals brave they'll stand;
Nay, Spanish men from death have no warrant."

86

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 God 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."

87

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 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."

 I

Carles li reis, nostre emper[er]e magnes
Set anz tuz pleins ad estet en Espaigne:
Tresqu'en la mer cunquist la tere altaigne.
N'i ad castel ki devant lui remaigne;
Mur ne citet n'i est remes a fraindre,
Fors Sarraguce, ki est en une muntaigne.
Li reis Marsilie la tient, ki Deu nen aimet;
Mahumet sert e Apollin recleimet:
Nes poet guarder que mals ne l'i ateignet.

II

Li reis Marsilie esteit en Sarraguce.
Alez en est en un verger suz l'umbre;
Sur un perrun de marbre bloi se culchet,
Envirun lui plus de vint milie humes.
Il en apelet e ses dux e ses cuntes:
«Oëz, seignurs, quel pecchet nus encumbret:
Li emper[er]es Carles de France dulce
En cest païs nos est venuz cunfundre.
Jo nen ai ost qui bataille li dunne,
Ne n'ai tel gent ki la sue derumpet.
Cunseilez mei cume mi savie hume,
Si m(e) guarisez e de mort et de hunte.»
N'i ad paien ki un sul mot respundet,
Fors Blancandrins de Castel de Valfunde.

III

Blancandrins fut des plus saives paiens:
De vasselage fut asez chevaler,
Prozdom i out pur sun seignur aider;
E dist al rei: «Ore ne vus esmaiez!
Mandez Carlun a l'orguillus, (e) al fier,
Fedeilz servises e mult granz amistez.
Vos li durrez urs e leons e chens,
Set cenz camelz e mil hosturs muers,
D'or e d'argent .IIII.C. muls cargez,
Cinquante carre, qu'en ferat carier:
Ben en purrat luer ses soldeiers.
En ceste tere ad asez osteiet;
En France, ad Ais, s'en deit ben repairer.
Vos le sivrez a la feste seint Michel:
Si recevrez la lei de chrestiens,
Serez ses hom par honur e par ben.
S'en volt ostages, e vos l'en enveiez,
U dis u vint pur lui afiancer.
Enveiu[n]s i les filz de noz muillers:
Par nun d'ocire i enveierai le men.
Asez est melz qu'il i perdent le chefs,
Que nus perduns l'onur ne la deintet,
Ne nus seiuns cunduiz a mendeier.»

IV

Dist Blancandrins: «Pa[r] ceste meie destre
E par la barbe ki al piz me ventelet,
L'ost des Franceis verrez sempres desfere.
Francs s'en irunt en France la lur tere.
Quant cascuns ert a sun meillor repaire,
Carles serat ad Ais, a sa capele;
A seint Michel tendrat mult halte feste.
Vendrat li jurz, si passerat li termes,
N'orrat de nos paroles ne nuveles.
Li reis est fiers e sis curages pesmes:
De noz ostages ferat tre[n]cher les testes;
Asez est mielz, qu'il i perdent les testes,
Que nus perduns clere Espaigne, la bele,
Ne nus aiuns les mals ne les suffraites.»
Dient paien: «Issi poet il ben estre!»

V

Li reis Marsilie out sun cunseill finet:
Sin apelat Clarin (...) de Balaguet,
Estamarin e Eudropin, sun per,
E Priamun e Guarlan le barbet,
E Machiner e sun uncle, Maheu,
E Joüner e Malbien d'ultremer,
E Blancandrins, por la raisun cunter.
Des plus feluns dís en ad apelez:
«Seignurs baruns, a Carlemagnes irez;
Il est al siege a Cordres la citet.
Branches d'olives en voz mains porterez,
Ço senefiet pais e humilitet.
Par voz saveirs sem puez acorder,
Jo vos durrai or e argent asez,
Teres e fiéz tant cum vos en vuldrez.»
Dient paien: «De ço avun nus asez!»

VI

Li reis Marsilie out finet sun cunseill;
Dist a ses humes: «Seignurs, vos en ireiz;
Branches d'olive en voz mains portereiz,
Si me direz a Carlemagne, le rei,
Pur le soen Deu qu'il ait m(er)ercit de mei.
Ja einz ne verrat passer cest premer meis,
Que jel sivrai od mil de mes fedeilz,
Si recevrai la chrestiene lei,
[S]erai ses hom par amur e par feid;
S'il voelt ostages, il en avrat par veir.»
Dist Blancandrins: «Mult bon plait en avreiz.»

VII

Dis blanches mules fist amener Marsilies,
Que li tramist li reis de Suatilie;
Li frein sunt d'or, les seles d'argent mises.
Cil sunt muntez ki le message firent,
Enz en lur mains portent branches d'olive.
Vindrent a Charles ki France ad en baillie:
Nes poet guarder que alques ne l'engignent.

VIII

Li empereres se fait e balz e liez,
Cordres ad prise e les murs peceiez,
Od ses cadables les turs en abatied.
Mult grant eschech en unt si chevaler
D'or e d argent e de guarnemenz chers.
En la citet nen ad remes paien,
Ne seit ocis, u devient chrestien.
Li empereres est en un grant verger,
Ensembl od lui Rollant et oliver
Sansun li dux e anseis li fiers
Gefreid d anjou le rei gunfanuner,
E si i furent e gerin et gerers,
La u cist furent, des altres i out bien:
De dulce france i ad quinze milliers.
Sur palies blancs siedent cil cevaler,
As tables juent pur els esbaneier
E as eschecs li plus saive e li veill,
E escremissent cil bacheler leger.
Desuz un pin delez un eglenter
Un faldestoed i unt fait tut d or mer,
La siet li reis, ki dulce france tient.
Blanche ad la barbe e tut flurit le chef,
Gent ad le cors e le cuntenant fier,
S'est, kil demandet, ne l estoet enseigner.
E li message descendirent a pied,
Sil saluerent par amur e par bien.

IX

Blancandrins ad tut premereins parled,
E dist al rei: «Salvez seiez de Deu
Le glorius, que de[v]u[n]s aürer!
Iço vus mandet reis Marsilies, li bers:
Enquis ad mult la lei de salvetez;
De sun aveir vos voelt asez duner,
Urs e leuns e veltres enchaignez,
Set cenz cameilz e mil hosturs muez,
D'or e d'argent .IIII. cenz muls trussez,
Cinquante care, que carier en ferez;
Tant i avrat de besanz esmerez
Dunt bien purrez voz soldeiers luer.
En cest païs avez estet asez;
En France, ad Ais, devez bien repairer;
La vos sivrat, ço dit mis avoez.»
Li empereres tent (...) ses mains vers Deu,
Baisset sun chef, si cumencet a penser.

X

Li empereres en tint sun chef enclin;
De sa parole ne fut mie hastifs:
Sa custume est qu'il parolet a leisír.
Quant se redrecet, mult par out fier lu vis;
Dist as messages: «Vus avez mult ben dit.
Li reis Marsilies est mult mis enemis.
De cez paroles que vos avez ci dit,
En quel mesure en purrai estre fiz?»
- «Voet par hostages,» ço dist li Sarrazins,
«Dunt vos avrez ú dis ú quinze ú vint.
Pa[r] num de ocire i metrai un mien filz,
E sin avrez, ço quid, de plus gentilz.
Quant vus serez el palais seignurill,
A la grant feste seint Michel del Peril,
Mis avoez la vos sivrat, ço dit;
Enz en voz bainz que Deus pur vos i fist,
La vuldrat il chrestiens devenir.»
Charles respunt: «Uncore purrat guarir.»

XI

Bels fut li vespres e li soleilz fut cler.
Les dis mulez fait Char[l]es establer,
El grant verger fait li reis tendre un tref,
Les dis messages ad fait enz hosteler;
.XII. serjanz les unt ben cunreez.
La noit demurent tresque vint al jur cler.
Li empereres est par matin levet;
Messe e matines ad li reis escultet.
Desuz un pin en est li reis alez,
Ses baruns mandet pur sun cunseill finer:
Par cels de France voelt il del tut errer.

XII

Li emper[er]es s'en vait desuz un pin.
Ses baruns mandet pur sun cunseill fenir:
Le duc Oger, (e) l'arcevesque Turpin,
Richard li Vélz e sun nev[old] Henri,
E de Gascuigne li proz quens Acelin
Tedbald de Reins e Milun, sun cusin;
E si i furent e Gerers e Gerin;
Ensembl' od els li quens Rollant i vint,
E Oliver, li proz e li gentilz;
Des Francs de France en i ad plus de mil.
Guenes i vint, ki la traïsun fist.
Des ore cumencet le cunseill que mal prist.

XIII

«Seignurs barons,» dist li emperere Carles,
«Li reis Marsilie m'ad tramis ses messages;
De sun aveir me voelt duner grant masse,
Urs e leuns e veltres caeignables,
Set cenz cameilz e mil hosturs muables,
Quatre cenz mulz cargez del ór d'Arabe,
Avoec iço plus de cinquante care;
Mais il me mandet que en France m'en alge:
Il me sivrat ad Aís, a mun estage,
Si recevrat la nostre lei plus salve;
Chrestiens ert, de mei tendrat ses marches;
Mais jo ne sai quels en est sis curages.»
Dient Franceis: «Il nus i cuvent guarde!»

XIV

Li empereres out sa raisun fenie.
Li quens Rollant, ki ne l'otriet mie,
En piez se drecet, si li vint cuntredire.
Il dist al rei: «Ja mar crerez Marsilie.
Set anz [ad] pleins, que en Espaigne venimes;
Jo vos cunquis e Noples e Commibles,
Pris ai Valterne e la tere de Pine
E Balasgued e Tuele e Sezilie.
Li reis Marsilie i fist mult que traïtre:
De ses pai[ens il vus] enveiat quinze,
Cha(n)cuns portout une branche d'olive;
Nuncerent vos cez paroles meïsme.
A vos Franceis un cunseill en presistes:
Loerent vos alques de legerie.
Dous de voz cuntes al paien tramesistes,
L'un fut Basan e li altres Basilies;
Les chef en prist es puis desuz Haltilie.
Faites la guer[re] cum vos l'avez enprise:
En Sarraguce menez vostre ost banie,
Metez le sege a tute vostre vie,
Si vengez cels que li fels fist ocire!»

XV

Li empe[re]re en tint sun chef enbrunc,
Si duist sa barbe, afaitad sun gernun,
Ne ben ne mal ne respunt sun nevuld.
Franceis se taisent ne mais que Guenelun,
En piez se drecet, si vint devant Carlun,
Mult fierement cumencet sa raisun,
E dist al rei: «Ja mar crerez bricun,
Ne mei ne altre, se de vostre prod nun.
Quant ço vos mandet li reis Marsiliun,
Qu'il devendrat jointes ses mains tis hom,
E tute Espaigne tendrat par vostre dun,
Puis recevrat la lei que nus tenum,
Ki ço vos lodet que cest plait degetuns,
Ne li chalt, sire, de quel mort nus muriuns.
Cunseill d orguill n'est dreiz que a plus munt,
Laissun les fols, as sages nus tenuns.»

XVI

Apres iço i est Neimes venud;
Meillor vassal n'aveit en la curt nul,
E dist al rei: «Ben l'avez entendud,
Guenes li quens ço vus ad respondud,
Saveir i ad, mais qu'il seit entendud.
Li reis Marsilie est de guere vencud:
Vos li avez tuz ses castels toluz,
Od voz caables avez fruiset ses murs,
Ses citez arses e ses humes vencuz;
Quant il vos mandet, qu'aiez mercit de lui,
Pecchet fereit, ki dunc li fesist plus,
U par ostage vos (en) voelt faire soürs;
Ceste grant guerre ne deit munter a plus.»
Dient Franceis: «Ben ad parlet li dux.»

XVII

- «Seignurs baruns, qui i enveieruns
En Sarraguce al rei Marsiliuns?»
Respunt dux Neimes: «Jo irai par vostre dun!
Livrez m'en ore le guant e le bastun.»
Respunt li reis: «Vos estes saives hom;
Par ceste barbe e par cest men gernun,
Vos n'irez pas uan de mei si luign.
Alez sedeir, quant nuls ne vos sumunt.»

XVIII

- «Seignurs baruns, qui i purruns enveier
Al Sarrazin ki Sarraguce tient?»
Respunt Rollant: «Jo i puis aler mult ben!»
- «Nu ferez certes!» dist li quens Oliver;
«Vostre curages est mult pesmes e fiers;
Jo me crendreie, que vos vos meslisez.
Se li reis voelt, jo i puis aler ben.»
Respunt li reis: «Ambdui vos en taisez!
Ne vos ne il n'i porterez les piez.
Par ceste barbe que veez [blancheier],
Li duze per mar i serunt jugez!»
Franceis se taisent: as les vus aquisez.

XIX

Turpins de Reins en est levet del renc,
E dist al rei: «Laisez ester voz Francs!
En cest païs avez estet set anz;
Mult unt oüd e peines e ahans.
Dunez m'en, sire, le bastun e le guant,
E jo irai al Sarazin en Espaigne,
Sin vois vedeir alques de sun semblant.»
Li empereres respunt par maltalant:
«Alez sedeir desur cel palie blanc!
N'en parlez mais, se jo nel vos cumant!»

XX

- «Francs chevalers,» dist li emperere Carles,
«Car m'eslisez un barun de ma marche,
Qu'a Marsiliun me portast mun message.»
Ço dist Rollant: «Ço ert Guenes, mis parastre.»
Dient Franceis: «Car il le poet ben faire;
Se lui lessez, n'i trametrez plus saive.»
E li quens Guenes en fut mult anguisables;
De sun col getet ses grandes pels de martre,
E est remes en sun blialt de palie.
Vairs out [les oilz] e mult fier lu visage,
Gent out le cors e les costez out larges;
Tant par fut bels tuit si per l'en esguardent.
Dist a Rollant: «Tut fol, pur quei t'esrages?
Ço set hom ben que jo sui tis parastres;
Si as juget qu'a Marsiliun en alge!
Se Deus ço dunet que jo de la repaire,
Jo t'en muvra[i] un si grant contr[a]ire
Ki durerat a trestut tun edage.»
Respunt Rollant: «Orgoill ói e folage.
Ço set hom ben, n'ai cure de manace;
Mai[s] saives hom, il deit faire message:
Si li reis voelt, prez sui por vus le face.»

XXI

Guenes respunt: «Pur mei n'iras tu mie!
Tu n'ies mes hom ne jo ne sui tis sire.
Carles comandet que face sun servise:
En Sarraguce en irai a Marsilie;
Einz i f[e]rai un poi de [le]gerie,
Que jo n'esclair ceste meie grant ire.»
Quant l'ot Rollant, si cumençat a rire.

XXII

Quant ço veit Guenes que ore s'en rit Rollant,
Dunc ad tel doel pur poi d'ire ne fent,
A ben petit que il ne pert le sens;
E dit al cunte: «Jo ne vus aim nient;
Sur mei avez turnet fals jugement.
Dreiz emperere, veiz me ci en present,
Ademplir voeill vostre comandement.»

XXIII

«En Sarraguce sai ben, [qu']aler m'estoet.
Hom ki la vait, repairer ne s'en poet.
Ensurquetut si ai jo vostre soer,
Sin ai un filz, ja plus bels n'en estoet:
Ço est Baldewin,» ço dit, «ki ert prozdoem.
A lui lais jo mes honurs e mes fieus.
Gua[r]dez le ben, ja nel verrai des oilz.»
Carles respunt: «trop avez tendre coer.
Puisquel comant, aler vus en estoet.»

XXIV

Ço dist li reis: «Guenes venez avant.
Si recevez le bastun e lu guant.
Oït l'avez, sur vos le jugent Franc.»
- «Sire,» dist Guenes, «ço ad tut fait Rollant!
Ne l'amerai a trestut mun vivant,
Ne Oliver, por ço qu'il est si cumpainz;
Li duze per, por [ço] qu'il l'aiment tant,
Desfi les ci, sire, vostre veiant.»
Ço dist li reis: «Trop avez maltalant.
Or irez vos certes, quant jol cumant.»
- «Jo i puis aler, mais n'i avrai guarant:
Nu l'out Basilies ne sis freres Basant.»

XXV

Li empereres li tent sun guant le destre;
Mais li quens Guenes iloec ne volsist estre:
Quant le dut prendre, si li caït a tere.
Dient Franceis: «Deus! que purrat ço estre?
De cest message nos avendrat grant perte.»
- «Seignurs» dist Guenes, «vos en orrez noveles!»

XXVI

- «Sire,» dist Guenes, «dunez mei le cungied;
Quant aler dei, n'i ai plus que targer.»
Ço dist li reis: «Al Jhesu e al mien!»
De sa main destre l'ad asols e seignet,
Puis li livrat le bastun e le bref.

XXVII

Guenes li quens s'en vait a sun ostel,
De guarnemenz se prent a cunreer,
De ses meillors que il pout recuvrer:
Esperuns d'or ad en ses piez fermez,
Ceint Murglies, s'espee, a sun costed;
En Tachebrun, sun destrer est munted;
L'estreu li tint sun uncle Guinemer.
La veïsez tant chevaler plorer,
Ki tuit li dient «Tant mare fustes, ber!
En (la) cort al rei mult i avez ested,
Noble vassal vos i solt hom clamer.
Ki ço jugat, que doüsez aler
Par Charlemagne n'er(cs) guariz ne tensez.
Li quens Rollant nel se doüst penser,
Que estrait estes de mult grant parented.»
Enpres li dient: «Sire, car nos menez!»
Ço respunt Guenes: «Ne placet Damnedeu!
Mielz est que sul moerge que tant bon chevaler.
En dulce France, seignurs, vos en irez:
De meie part ma muiller saluez,
E Pinabel, mun ami e mun per,
E Baldewin, mun filz que vos savez,
E lui aidez e pur seignur le tenez.»
Entret en sa veie, si s'est achiminez.

XXVIII

Guenes chevalchet suz une olive halte,
Asemblet s'est as sarrazins messag[es].
Mais Blancandrins ki envers lu s'atarget;
Par grant saveir parolet li uns a l'altre.
Dist Blancandrins: «Merveilus hom est Charles,
Ki cunquist Puille e trestute Calabre;
Vers Engletere passat il la mer salse,
Ad oes seint Perre en cunquist le chevage:
Que nus requert ça en la nostre marche?»
Guenes respunt: «Itels est sis curages,
Jamais n'ert hume ki encuntre lui vaille.»

XXIX

Dist Blancandrins: «Francs sunt mult gentilz home;
Mult grant mal funt e [cil] duc e cil cunte
A lur seignur, ki tel cunseill li dunent:
Lui e altrui travaillent, e cunfundent.»
Guenes respunt: «Jo ne sai veirs nul hume,
Ne mes Rollant, ki uncore en avrat hunte.
Er matin sedeit li emperere suz l'umbre;
Vint i ses nies, out vestue sa brunie,
E out predet dejuste Carcasonie;
En sa main tint une vermeille pume:
«Tenez bel sire,» dist Rollant a sun uncle,
«De trestuz reis vos present les curunes.»
Li soens orgoilz le devreit ben cunfundre,
Kar chascun jur de mort [il] s'abandunet.
Seit, ki l'ociet, tute pais puis avriúmes.»

XXX

Dist Blancandrins: «Mult est pesmes Rollant,
Ki tute gent voelt faire recreant,
E tutes teres met en chalengement!
Par quele gent quiet il espleiter tant?»
Guenes respunt: «Par la franceise gent.
Il l'a[i]ment tant ne li faldrunt nient;
Or e argent lur met tant en present,
Muls e destrers, e palies e guarnemenz;
L'emperere meïsmes ad tut a sun talent.
Cunquerrat li les teres d'ici qu'en Orient.»

XXXI

Tant chevalcherent Guenes e Blancandrins,
Que l'un a l'altre la sue feit plevit,
Que il querreient, que Rollant fust ocis.
Tant chevalcherent e veies e chemins,
Que en Sarraguce descendent suz un if.
Un faldestoet out suz l'umbre d'un pin;
Esvolupet fut d'un palie alexandrin:
La fut li reis ki tute Espaigne tint;
Tut entur lui vint milie Sarrazins.
N'i ad celoi ki mot sunt ne mot tint,
Pur les nuveles qu'il vuldreient oïr.
Atant as vos Guenes e Blanchandrins.

XXXII

Blancandrins vint devant l'empereür;
Par le puig[n] tint le cunte Guenelun,
E dist al rei: «Salvez seiez de Mahun
E d'Apollin, qui seintes leis tenuns!
Vostre message fesime[s] a Charlun.
Ambes ses mains en levat cuntre munt,
Loat sun Deu, ne fist altre respuns.
Ci vos enveiet un sun noble barun,
Ki est de France, si est mult riches hom:
Par lui orrez si avrez pais u nun.»
Respunt Marsilie: «Or diet, nus l'orrum!»

XXXIII

Mais li quens Guenes se fut ben purpenset.
Par grant saver cumencet a parler
Cume celui ki ben faire le set,
E dist al rei: «Salvez seiez de Deu
Li Glorius, qui devum aürer!
Iço vus mandet Carlemagnes, li ber,
Que recevez seinte chrestientet;
Demi Espaigne vos voelt en fiu duner.
Se cest acorde ne vulez otrier,
Pris e liez serez par poested;
Al siege ad Ais en serez amenet,
Par jugement serez iloec finet;
La murrez vus a hunte e a viltet.»
Li reis Marsilies en fut mult esfreed.
Un algier tint, ki d'or fut enpenet,
Ferir l'en volt, se n'en fust desturnet.

XXXIV

Li reis Marsilies ad la culur muee;
De sun algeir ad la hanste crollee.
Quant le vit Guenes, mist la main a l'espee,
Cuntre dous deie l'ad del furrer getee,
Si li ad dit: «Mult estes bele e clere!
Tant vus avrai en curt a rei portee!
Ja nel dirat de France li emperere,
Que suls i moerge en l'estrange cuntree,
Einz vos avrunt li meillor comperee.»
Dient paien: «Desfaimes la mellee!»

XXXV

Tuit li preierent li meillor Sarrazin,
Qu'el faldestoed s'es[t] Marsilies asis.
Dist l'algalifes: «Mal nos avez baillit,
Que li Franceis asmastes a ferir;
Vos le doüssez esculter e oïr.»
- «Sire,» dist Guenes, «mei l'avent a suffrir;
Jo ne lerreie, por l'or que Deus fist
Ne por tut l'aveir, ki seit en cest païs,
Que jo ne li die, se tant ai de leisir,
Que Charles li mandet, li reis poesteïfs,
Par mei li mandet, sun mortel enemi.»
Afublez est d'un mantel sabelin,
Ki fut cuvert d'une palie alexandrin.
Getet le a tere, sil receit Blancandrin;
Mais de s'espee ne volt mie guerpir;
En sun puign destre par l'orie punt la tint.
Dient paien: «Noble baron ad ci!»

XXXVI

Envers le rei s'est Guenes aproismet,
Si li ad dit: «A tort vos curuciez,
Quar ço vos mandet Carles, ki France tient,
Que recevez la lei de chrestiens;
Demi Espaigne vus durat il en fiet.
L'altre meitet avrat Rollant, sis nies:
Mulz orguillos parçuner i avrez!
Si ceste acorde ne volez otrier,
En Sarraguce vus vendrat aseger;
Par poestet serez pris e liez;
Menet serez . . . [tut] dreit ad Ais le siet:
Vus n'i avrez palefreid ne destrer,
Ne mul ne mule que puissez chevalcher;
Getet serez sur un malvais sumer.
Par jugement iloec perdrez le chef.
Nostre emperere vus enveiet cest bref.»
El destre poign al paien l'ad liv(e)ret.

XXXVII

Marsilies fut esculurez de l'ire;
Freint le seel, getet en ad la cire,
Guardet al bref, vit la raisun escrite:
«Carle me mandet, ki France ad en baillie,
Que me remembre de la dolur e (de) l'ire,
Ço est de Basan e de sun frere Basilie,
Dunt pris les chefs as puis de Haltoíe;
Se de mun cors voeil aquiter la vie,
Dunc li envei mun uncle, l'algalife;
Altrement ne m'amerat il mie.»
Apres parlat ses filz envers Marsilies,
E dist al rei: «Guenes ad dit folie;
Tant ad erret nen est dreiz que plus vivet.
Livrez le mei, jo en ferai la justise.»
Quant l'oït Guenes, l'espee en ad branlie;
Vait s'apuier suz le pin a la tige.

XXXVIII

Enz el verger s'en est alez li reis,
Ses meillors humes enmeinet ensembl'od sei:
E Blancandrins i vint, al canud peil,
E Jurfaret, ki est ses filz e ses heirs,
E l'algalifes, sun uncle e sis fedeilz.
Dist Blancandrins: «Apelez le Franceis,
De nostre prod m'ad plevie sa feid.»
Ço dist li reis: «E vos l'i ameneiz.»
E Guenes (l')ad pris par la main destre ad deiz,
Enz el verger l'en meinet josqu'al rei.
La purparolent la traïson seinz dreit.

XXXIX

«Bel sire Guenes,» ço li ad dit Marsilie,
«Jo vos ai fait alques de legerie,
Quant por ferir vus demustrai grant ire.
Guaz vos en dreit par cez pels sabelines;
Melz en valt l'or que ne funt cinc cenz livres:
Einz demain noit en iert bele l'amendise.»
Guenes respunt: «Jo nel desotrei mie.
Deus se lui plaist, a bien le vos mercie!»

XL

Ço dist Marsilies: «Guenes par veir sacez,
En talant ai que mult vos voeill amer,
De Carlemagne vos voeill oïr parler.
Il est mult vielz, si ad sun tens uset;
Men escient dous cenz anz ad passet.
Par tantes teres ad sun cors demened,
Tanz [colps] ad pris sur sun escut bucler,
Tanz riches reis cunduit a mendisted:
Quant ert il mais recreanz d'osteier?»
Guenes respunt: «Carles n'est mie tels.
N'est hom kil veit e conuistre le set
Que ço ne diet que l'emperere est ber.
Tant nel vos sai ne preiser ne loer
Que plus n'i ad d'onur e de bontet.
Sa grant valor, kil purreit acunter?
De tel barnage l'ad Deus enluminet,
Meilz voelt murir que guerpir sun barnet.»

XLI

Dist li paiens: «Mult me puis merveiller
De Carlemagne, ki est canuz e vielz!
Men escientre dous cenz anz ad e mielz.
Par tantes teres ad sun cors traveillet,
Tanz colz ad pris de lances e d'espiet,
Tanz riches reis cunduiz a mendistiet:
Quant ert il mais recreanz d'osteier?»
- «Ço n'iert,» dist Guenes: «tant cum vivet sis niés:
N'at tel vassal suz la cape del ciel.
Mult par est proz sis cumpainz Oliver.
Les .XII. pers, que Carles ad tant chers,
Funt les enguardes a .XX. milie chevalers.
Soürs est Carles, que nuls home ne crent.»

XLII

Dist li Sarrazins: «Merveille en ai grant
De Carlemagne, ki est canuz e blancs!
Mien escientre plus ad de .II.C. anz.
Par tantes teres est alet cunquerant,
Tanz colps ad pris de bons espiez trenchanz,
Tanz riches reis morz e vencuz en champ:
Quant ier il mais d'osteier recreant?»
- «Ço n'iert,» dist Guenes, «tant cum vivet Rollant:
N'ad tel vassal d'ici qu en Orient.
Mult par est proz Oliver, sis cumpainz;
Li .XII. per, que Carles aimet tant,
Funt les enguardes a .XX. milie de Francs,
Soürs est Carlles, ne (cre) crent hume vivant.»

XLIII

- «Bel sire Guenes» dist marsilies li reis,
«Jo ai tel gent, plus bele ne verreiz;
Quarte cenz milie chevalers puis aveir.
Puis m'en cumbatre a Carlles e a Franceis?»
Guenes respunt: «Ne vus a ceste feiz!
De voz paiens mult grant perte i avreiz.
Lessez (la) folie, tenez vos al saveir.
L'empereür tant li dunez aveir,
N'i ait Franceis ki tot ne s'en merveilt.
Par .XX. hostages que li enveiereiz
En dulce France s'en repairerat li reis;
Sa rereguarde lerrat derere sei:
Iert i sis nies, li quens Rollant, (...) ço crei,
E Oliver, li proz e li curteis.
Mort sunt li cunte, se est ki mei en creit.
Carlles verrat sun grant orguill cadeir;
N'avrat talent, que ja mais vus guerreit.»

XLIV

- «Bel sire Guenes,[» ço dist li reis Marsilies,]
«Cum faitement purrai Rollant ocire?»
Guenes respont: «Ço vos sai jo ben dire.
Li reis serat as meillors porz de Sizer;
Sa rereguarde avrat detres sei mise;
Iert i sis nies, li quens Rollant, li riches,
E Oliver, en qui il tant se fiet;
.XX. milie Francs unt en lur cumpaignie.
De voz paiens lur enveiez .C. milie:
Une bataille lur i rendent cil primes;
La gent de France iert blecee e blesmie;
Nel di por ço, des voz iert la martirie.
Altre bataille lur livrez de meïsme:
De quel que seit Rollant n'estuertrat mie.
Dunc avrez faite gente chevalerie;
N'avrez mais guere en tute vostre vie.»

XLV

- «Chi purreit faire, que Rollant i fust mort,
Dunc perdreit Carles le destre braz del cors,
Si remeindreient les merveilluses óz;
N'asemblereit jamais Carles si grant esforz;
Tere Major remeindreit en repos.»
Quan l'ot Marsilie, si l'ad baiset el col,
Puis si cumencet a venir ses tresors.

XLVI

Ço dist Marsilies: «Qu'en parlereient il plus?
Cunseill n'est proz dunt hume n'est sevus.
La traïsun me jurrez de Rollant si illi est.»
Ço respunt Guenes: «Issi seit cum vos plaist!»
Sur les reliques de s'espee Murgleis,
La traïsun jurat, e si s'en est forsfait.

XLVII

Un faldestoed i out d'un olifant;
Marsilies fait porter un livre avant:
La lei i fut Mahum e Tervagan.
Ço ad juret li Sarrazins espans:
Se en rereguarde troevet le cors Rollant,
Cumbatrat sei a trestute sa gent,
E, se il poet, murrat i veirement.
Guenes respunt: «Ben seit vostre comant!»

XLVIII

A tant i vint uns paiens, Valdabruns:
Icil en vait al rei Marsiliun;
Cler en riant l'ad dit a Guenelun:
«Tenez m'espee, meillur n'en at nuls hom;
Entre les helz ad plus de mil manguns.
Par amistiez, bel sire, la vos duins,
Que (v)[n]os aidez de Rollant le barun,
Qu'en rereguarde trover le poüsum.»
- «Ben serat fait,» li quens Guenes respunt.
Puis se baiserent es vis e es mentuns.

XLIX

Apres i vint un paien, Climorins.
Cler en riant a Guenelun l'ad dit:
«Tenez mun helme, unches meillor ne vi.
Si nos aidez de Rollant li marchis,
Par quel mesure le poüssum hunir.»
- «Ben serat fait,» Guenes respundit.
Puis se baiserent es buches e es vis.

L

A tant i vint la reine Bramimunde.
«Jo vos aim mult, sire,» dist ele al cunte,
«Car mult vos priset mi sire e tuit si hume.
A vostre femme enveierai dous nusches;
Bien i ad or, matices e jacunces:
Eles valent mielz que tut l'aveir de Rume,
Vostre emperere si bones n'en out unches.»
Il les ad prises, en sa hoese les butet,

LI

Li reis apelet Malduit sun tresorer:
«L'aveir Carlun est il apareillez?»
E cil respunt: «Oïl, sire, asez bien:
.VII.C. cameilz, d'or e argent cargiez,
E .XX. hostages, des plus gentilz desuz cel.»

LII

Marsilies tint Guen[elun] par l'espalle;
Si li ad dit: «Mult par ies ber e sage.
Par cele lei que vos tenez plus salve,
Guardez de nos ne turnez le curage.
De mun aveir vos voeill dunner grant masse:
.X. muls cargez del plus fin or d'Arabe;
Jamais n'iert an, altretel ne vos face.
Tenez les clefs de ceste citet large,
Le grant aveir en presentez al rei Carles,
Pois me jugez Rollant a rereguarde.
Sel pois trover a port ne a passage,
Liverrai lui une mortel bataille.»
Guenes respunt: «Mei est vis que trop targe!»
Pois est munted, entret en sun veiage.

LIII

Li empereres aproismet sun repaire.
Venuz en est a la citet de Galne.
Li quens Rollant il l'ad e prise e fraite;
Puis icel jur en fut cent anz deserte.
De Guenelun atent li reis nuveles,
E le treüd d'Espaigne, la grant tere.
Par main en l'albe, si cum li jurz esclairet,
Guenes li quens est venuz as herberges.

LIV

Li empereres est par matin levet;
Messe e matines ad li reis escultet.
Sur l'erbe verte estut devant sun tref.
Rollant i fut e Oliver li ber,
Neimes li dux e des altres asez.
Guenes i vint, li fels, li parjurez.
Par grant veisdie cumencet a parler,
E dist al rei: «Salvez seiez de Deu!
De Sarraguce ci vos aport les clefs;
Mult grant aveir vos en faz amener,
E .XX. hostages; faites les ben guarder!
E si vos mandet reis Marsilies li ber,
De l'algalifes nel devez pas blasmer,
Kar a mes oilz vi .IIII.C. milie armez,
Halbers vestuz, alquanz healmes fermez,
Ceintes espees as punz d'or neielez,
Ki l'en cunduistrent tresqu'en la mer:
De Marcilie s'en fuient por la chrestientet,
Que il ne voelent ne tenir ne guarder.
Einz qu'il oüssent .IIII. liues siglet,
Sis aquillit e tempeste e ored:
La sunt neiez, jamais nes en verrez;
Se il fust vif, jo l'oüsse amenet.
Del rei paien, sire, par veir creez,
Ja ne verrez cest premer meis passet
Qu'il vos sivrat en France le regnet,
Si recevrat la lei que vos tenez,
Jointes ses mains iert vostre comandet;
De vos tendrat Espaigne le regnet.»
Ço dist li reis: «Graciet en seit Deus!
Ben l'avez fait, mult grant prod i avrez.»
Par mi cel ost funt mil grailles suner;
Franc desherbergent, funt lur sumers trosser:
Vers dulce France tuit sunt achiminez.

LV

Carles li magnes ad Espaigne guastede
Les castels pris, (. . .) les citez violees.
Ço dit li reis que sa guere out finee.
Vers dulce France chevalchet l'emperere.
Li quens Rollant ad l'enseigne fermee
En sur un tertre cuntre le ciel levee.
Franc se herbergent par tute la cuntree.
Paien chevalchent par cez greignurs valees,
Halbercs vestuz e tres bien fermeez
Healmes lacez e ceintes lur espees,
Escuz as cols e lances adubees.
En un bruill par sum les puis remestrent,
.IIII.C. milie atendent l'ajurnee.
Deus! quel dulur que li Franceis nel sevent!

LVI

Tresvait le jur, la noit est aserie.
Carles se dort, li empereres riches.
Sunjat qu'il eret al greignurs porz de Sizer,
Entre ses poinz teneit sa hanste fraisnine.
Guenes li quens l'ad sur lui saisie;
Par tel air l'at estrussee e brandie,
Qu'envers le cel en volent les escicles.
Carles se dort, qu'il ne s'esveillet mie.

LVII

Apres iceste altre avisiun sunjat:
Qu'il en France ert, a sa capele, ad Ais,
El destre braz li morst uns vers si mals.
Devers Ardene vit venir uns leuparz,
Sun cors demenie mult fierement asalt.
D'enz de la sale uns veltres avalat,
Que vint a Carles le galops e les salz,
La destre oreille al premer uer trenchat,
Ireement se cumbat al lepart.
Dient Franceis, que grant bataille i ad;
Il ne sevent, liquels d'els la veintrat.
Carles se dort, mie ne s'esveillat.

LVIII

Tresvait la noit, e apert la clere albe.
Par mi cel host suvent e menu reguarded:.
Li empereres mult fierement chevalchet.
«Seignurs barons,» dist li emperere Carles,
«Veez les porz e les destreiz passages:
Kar me jugez, ki ert en la rereguarde.»
Guenes respunt: «Rollant cist miens fillastre:
N'avez baron de si grant vasselage.»
Quant l'ot li reis, fierement le reguardet,
Si li ad dit: «Vos estes vifs diables.
El cors vos est entree mortel rage.
E ki serat devant mei en l'ansguarde?»
Guenes respunt: «Oger de Denemarche:
N'avez barun, ki mielz de lui la facet.»

LIX

Li quens Rollant quant il s'oït juger,
Dunc ad parled a lei de chevaler:
«Sire parastre, mult vos dei aveir cher:
La rereguarde avez sur mei jugiet.
N'i perdrat Carles, li reis ki France tient,
Men escientre palefreid ne destrer,
Ne mul ne mule que deiet chevalcher,
Ne n'i perdrat ne runcin ne sumer,
Que as espees ne seit einz eslegiet.»
Guenes respunt: «Veir dites, jol sai bien.»

LX

Quant ot Rollant, qu'il ert en la rereguarde,
Ireement parlat a sun parastre:
«Ahi! culvert, malvais hom de put aire,
Qui[d]ás, le guant me caïst en la place,
Cume fist a tei le bastun devant Carle?»

LXI

«Dreiz emperere,» dist Rollant le barun,
«Dunez mei l'arc, que vos tenez el poign.
Men escientre nel me reproverunt
Que il me chedet, cum fist a Guenelun
De sa main destre, quant reçut le bastun.»
Li empereres en tint sun chef enbrunc,
Si duist sa barbe, e detoerst sun gernun;
Ne poet muer que des oilz ne plurt.

LXII

Anpres iço i est Neimes venud:
Meillor vassal n'out en la curt de lui;
E dist al rei: «Ben l'avez entendut;
Li quens Rollant, il est mult irascut.
La rereguarde est jugee (...) sur lui:
N'avez baron ki jamais la remut.
Dunez li l'arc que vos avez tendut,
Si li truvez ki tres bien li aiut!»
Li reis li dunet, e Rollant l'a reçut.

LXIII

Li empereres apelet ses nies Rollant:
«Bel sire nies, or savez veirement,
Demi mun host vos lerrai en present.
Retenez les, ço est vostre salvement.»
Ço dit li quens: «Jo n'en ferai nient;
Deus me cunfunde, se la geste en desment!
XX. milie Francs retendrai ben vaillanz.
Passez les porz trestut soürement:
Ja mar crendrez nul hume a mun vivant!»

LXIV

Li quens Rollant est muntet el destrer.
Cuntre lui vient sis cumpainz Oliver;
Vint i Gerins e li proz quens Gerers,
E vint i Otes, si i vint Berengers,
E vint i Astors e Anseïs li veillz;
Vint i Gerart de Rossillon li fiers;
Venuz i est li riches dux Gaifiers.
Dist l'arcevesque: «Jo irai, par mun chef!»
- «E jo od vos,» ço dist li quens Gualters;
«Hom sui Rollant, jo ne li dei faillir.»
Entr'e[l]s eslisent .XX. milie chevalers.

LXV

Li quens Rollant Gualter de l'Húm apelet:
«Pernez mil Francs de France, nostre tere,
Si purpernez les deserz e les tertres,
Que l'emperere nis un des soens n'i perdet.»
Respunt gualter: «Pur vos le dei ben faire.»
Od mil Franceis de France, la lur tere,
Gualter desrenget les destreiz e les tertres,
N'en descendrat pur malvaises nuveles,
Enceis qu'en seient. VII.C. espees traites.
Reis Almaris, del regne de Belferne
Une bataille lur livrat le jur pesme.

LXVI

Halt sunt li pui e li val tenebrus,
Les roches bises, les destreiz merveillus.
Le jur passerent Franceis a grant dulur;
De .XV. lius en ot hom la rimur.
Puis que il venent a la Tere Majur,
Virent Guascuigne, la tere lur seignur.
Dunc le remembret des fius e des honurs,
E des pulcele e des gentilz oixurs:
Cel nen i ad ki de pitet ne plurt.
Sur tuz les altres est Carles anguissus:
As porz d'Espaigne ad lesset sun nevold.
Pitet l'en prent, ne poet muer n'en plurt.

LXVII

Li .XII. per sunt remes en Espaigne.
.XX. milie F(r)rancs unt en lur cumpaigne,
N'en unt poür ne de murir dutance.
Li emperere s'en repairet en France;
Suz sun mantel en fait la cuntenance.
Dejuste lui li dux Neimes chevalchet
E dit al rei: «De quei avez pesance?»
Carles respunt: «Tort fait kil me demandet!
Si grant doel ai ne puis muer nel pleigne.
Par Guenelun serat destruite France,
Enoit m'avint un avisiun d'angele,
Que entre mes puinz me depeçout ma hanste,
Chi ad juget mis nes a (la) rereguarde.
Jo l'ai lesset en une estrange marche!
Deus! se jol pert, ja n'en avrai escange!»

LXVIII

Carles li magnes ne poet muer n'en plurt.
.C. milie Francs pur lui unt grant tendrur,
E de Rollant merveilluse poür.
Guen[e]s li fels en ad fait traïsun:
Del rei paien en ad oüd granz duns,
Or e argent, palies e ciclatuns,
Muls e chevals e cameilz e leuns.
Marsilies mandet d'Espaigne les baruns,
Cuntes, vezcuntes e dux e almaçurs,
Les amirafles e les filz as cunturs:
.IIII.C. milie en ajustet en .III. jurz.
En Sarraguce fait suner ses taburs;
Mahumet levent en la plus halte tur.
N'i ad paien nel prit e nel aort.
Puis si chevalchent, par mult grant cuntençun,
La Tere Certeine e les vals e les munz:
De cels de France virent les gunfanuns.
La rereguarde des .XII. cumpaignuns
Ne lesserat bataille ne lur dunt.

LXIX

Li nies Marsilie, il est venuz avant,
Sur un mulet od un bastun tuchant.
Dist a sun uncle belement en riant:
«Bel sire reis, jo vos ai servit tant,
Sin ai oüt e peines e ahans,
Faites batailles e vencues en champ!
Dunez m'un feu, ço est le colp de Rollant;
Jo l'ocirai a mun espiet trenchant.
Se Mahumet me voelt estre guarant,
De tute Espaigne aquiterai les pans
Des porz d'Espaigne entresqu'a Durestant.
Las serat Carles, si recrerrunt si Franc;
Ja n'avrez mais guere en tut vostre vivant.»
Li reis Marsilie l'en ad dunet le guant.

LXX

Li nies Marsilies tient le guant en sun poign,
Sun uncle apelet de mult fiere raisun:
«Bel sire reis, fait m'avez un grant dun.
Eslisez mei .XII. de voz baruns,
Sim cumbatrai as .XII. cumpaignuns.»
Tut premerein l'en respunt Falsaron,
Icil ert frere al rei Marsiliun:
«Bel sires nies, e jo e vos [í]irum.
Ceste bataille veirement la ferum:
La rereguarde de la grant host Carlun,
Il est juget que nus les ocirum.»

LXXI

Reis Corsalis, il est de l'altre part:
Barbarins est e mult de males arz.
Cil ad parlet a lei de bon vassal:
Pur tut l'or Deu ne volt estre cuard [...]
As vos poignant Malprimis de Brigant:
Plus curt a piet que ne fait un cheval.
Devant Marsilie cil s'escriet mult halt:
«Jo cunduirai mun cors en Rencesvals;
Se truis Rollant, ne lerrai que nel mat!»

LXXII

Uns amurafles i ad de Balaguez:
Cors ad mult gent e le vis fier e cler;
Puis que il est sur un cheval muntet,
Mult se fait fiers de ses armes porter;
De vasselage est il ben alosez;
Fust chrestiens, asez oüst barnet.
Devant Marsilie cil en est escriet:
«En Rencesvals irai mun cors juer!
Se truis Rollant, de mort serat finet,
E Oliver e tuz les .XII. pers.
Franceis murrunt a doel e a viltiet.
Carles li magnes velz est e redotez:
Recreanz ert de sa guerre mener,
Si nus remeindrat Espaigne en quitedet.»
Li reis Marsilie mult l'en ad merciet.

LXXIII

Uns almaçurs i ad de Moriane;
N'ad plus felun en la tere d'Espaigne.
Devant Marsilie ad faite sa vantance:
«En Rencesvals guierai ma cumpaigne,
.XX. milie ad escuz e a lances.
Se trois Rollant, de mort li duins fiance.
Jamais n'ert jor que Carles ne se pleignet.»

LXXIV

D'altre part est Turgis de Turteluse:
Cil est uns quens, si est la citet sue.
De chrestiens voelt faire male vode.
Devant Marsilie as altres si s'ajust,
Ço dist al rei: «Ne vos esmaiez unches!
Plus valt Mahum que seint Perre de Rume!
Se lui servez, l'onur del camp ert nostre.
En Rencesvals a Rollant irai juindre,
De mort n'avrat guarantisun pur hume.
Veez m'espee, ki est e bone e lunge:
A Durendal jo la metrai encuntre;
Asez orrez, laquele irat desure.
Franceis murrunt, si a nus s'abandunent;
Carles li velz avrat e deol e hunte:
Jamais en tere ne portera curone.»

LXXV

De l'altre part est Escremiz de Valterne:
Sarrazins est, si est sue la tere.
Devant Marsilie s'escriet en la presse,
«En Rencesvals irai l'orgoill desfaire.
Se trois Rollant, n'en porterat la teste,
Ne Oliver, ki les altres cadelet;
Li .XII. per tuit sunt jugez a perdre;
Franceis murrunt e France en ert deserte,
De bons vassals avrat Carles suffraite.»

LXXVI

D'altre part est uns paiens, Esturganz;
Estramariz i est, un soens cumpainz:
Cil sunt felun, traïtur suduiant.
Ço dist Marsilie: «Seignurs, venez avant!
En Rencesvals irez as porz passant,
Si aiderez a cunduire ma gent.»
E cil respundent: «(Sire,) a vostre comandement!
Nus asaldrum Oliver e Rollant;
Li .XII. per n'avrunt de mort guarant.
Noz espees sunt bones e trenchant;
Nus les feruns vermeilles de chald sanc.
Franceis murrunt, Carles en ert dolent.
Tere Majur vos metrum en present.
Venez i, reis, sil verrez veirement:
L'empereor vos metrum en present.»

LXXVII

Curant i vint Margariz de Sibilie;
Cil tient la tere entre[s]qu'as Cazmarine.
Pur sa beltet dames li sunt amies:
Cele nel veit vers lui ne s'esclargisset;
Quant ele le veit, ne poet muer ne riet;
N'i ad paien de tel chevalerie.
Vint en la presse, sur les altres s'escriet
E dist al rei: «Ne vos esmaiez mie!
En Rencesvals irai Rollant ocire,
Ne Oliver n'en porterat la vie;
Li .XII. per sunt remes en martirie.
Veez m'espee, ki d'or est enheldie:
Si la tramist li amiralz de Primes.
Jo vos plevis qu'en vermeill sanc ert mise.
Franceis murrunt e France en ert hunie;
Carles li velz a la barbe flurie,
Jamais n'ert jurn qu'il n'en ait doel e ire.
Jusqu'a un an avrum France saisie;
Gesir porrum el burc de seint Denise.»
Li reis paiens parfundement l 'enclinet.

LXXVIII

De l'altre part est Chernubles de Munigre;
Jusqu'a la tere si chevoel li balient;
Greignor fais portet par giu, quant il s'enveiset,
Que .IIII. mulez ne funt, quant il sumeient.
Icele tere, ço dit, dun il esteit,
Soleill n'i luist, ne blet n'i poet pas creistre,
Pluie n'i chet, rusee n'i adeiset,
Piere n'i ad que tute ne seit neire.
Dient alquanz que diables i meignent.
Ce dist Chernubles: «Ma bone espee ai ceinte;
En Rencesvals jo la teindrai vermeille.
Se trois Rollant li proz enmi ma veie,
Se ne l'asaill, dunc ne faz jo que creire,
Si cunquerrai Durendal od la meie.
Franceis murrunt e France en ert deserte.»
A icez moz li .XII. [per] s'alient;
Itels .C. milie Sarrazins od els meinent,
Ki de bataille s'argüent,e hasteient:
Vunt s'aduber desuz une sapide.

LXXIX

Paien s'adubent des osbercs sarazineis,
Tuit li plusur en sunt (saraguzeis) dublez en treis,
Lacent lor elmes mult bons sarraguzeis,
Ceignent espees de l'acer vianeis;
Escuz unt genz, espiez valentineis,
E gunfanuns blancs e blois e vermeilz.
Laissent les mulz e tuz les palefreiz,
Es destrers muntent, si chevalchent estreiz.
Clers fut li jurz e bels fut li soleilz:
N'unt guarnement que tut ne reflambeit.
Sunent mil grailles por ço que plus bel seit:
Granz est la noise, si l'oïrent Franceis.
Dist Oliver: «Sire cumpainz, ce crei,
De Sarrazins purum bataille aveir.»
Respont Rollant: «E! Deus la nus otreit!
Ben devuns ci estre pur nostre rei:
Pur sun seignor deit hom susfrir destreiz
E endurer e granz chalz e granz freiz,
Sin deit hom perdre e del quir e del peil.
Or guart chascuns que granz colps (l')[i] empleit,
Que malvaise cançun de nus chantet ne seit!
Paien unt tort e chrestiens unt dreit;
Malvaise essample n'en serat, ja de mei.»

LXXX

Oliver est desur un pui haut muntez,
Guardet su destre par mi un val herbus,
Si veit venir cele gent paienur,
Sin apelat Rollant, sun cumpaignun:
«Devers Espaigne vei venir tel bruur,
Tanz blancs osbercs, tanz elmes flambius!
Icist ferunt nos Franceis grant irur.
Guenes le sout, li fel, li traïtur,
Ki nus jugat devant l'empereür.»
- «Tais Oliver,» li quens Rollant respunt,
«Mis parrastre est, ne voeill que mot en suns.»

LXXXI

Oliver est desur un pui muntet;
Or veit il ben d'Espaigne le regnet
E Sarrazins, ki tant sunt asemblez.
Luisent cil elme, ki ad or sunt gemmez,
E cil escuz e cil osbercs safrez
E cil espiez, cil gunfanun fermez.
Sul les escheles ne poet il acunter;
Tant en i ad que mesure n'en set.
E lui meïsme en est mult esguaret.
Cum il einz pout, del pui est avalet,
Vint as Franceis, tut lur ad acuntet.

LXXXII

Dist Oliver: «Jo ai paiens veüz:
Unc mais nuls hom en tere n'en vit plus.
Cil devant sunt .C. milie ad escuz
Helmes laciez e blancs osbercs vestuz
Dreites cez hanstes, luisent cil espiet brun.
Bataille avrez, unches mais tel ne fut.
Seignurs Franceis, de Deu aiez vertut!
El camp estez, que ne seium vencuz!»
Dient Franceis: «Dehet ait ki s'en fuit!
Ja pur murir ne vus en faldrat uns.»

LXXXIII

Dist Oliver: «Paien unt grant esforz,
De noz Franceis m'i semblet aveir mult poi!
Cumpaign Rollant, kar sunez vostre corn:
Si l'orrat Carles, si returnerat l'ost.»
Respunt Rollant: «Jo fereie que fols!
En dulce France en perdreie mun los.
Sempres ferrai de Durendal granz colps;
Sanglant en ert li branz entresqu'a l'or.
Felun paien mar i vindrent as porz:
Jo vos plevis, tuz sunt jugez a mort.»

LXXXIV

- «Cumpainz Rollant l'olifan car sunez:
Si l'orrat Carles, ferat l'ost returner,
Succurrat nos li reis od tut sun barnet.»
Respont Rollant: «Ne placet Damnedeu
Que mi parent pur mei seient blasmet
Ne France dulce ja cheet en viltet!
Einz i ferrai de Durendal asez,
Ma bone espee que ai ceint al costet:
Tut en verrez le brant ensanglentet.
Felun paien mar i sunt asemblez:
Jo vos plevis, tuz sunt a mort livrez.»

LXXXV

«Cumpainz Rollant, sunez vostre olifan:
Si l'orrat Carles, ki est as porz passant.
Je vos plevis, ja returnerunt Franc.»
«Ne placet Deu,» ço li respunt Rollant,
«Que ço seit dit de nul hume vivant,
Ne pur paien, que ja seie cornant!
Ja n'en avrunt reproece mi parent!
Quant jo serai en la bataille grant
E jo ferrai e mil colps e .VII. cenz,
De Durendal verrez l'acer sanglent.
Franceis sunt bon, si ferrunt vassalment,
Ja cil d'Espaigne n'avrunt de mort guarant.»

LXXXVI

Dist Oliver: «D'iço ne sai jo blasme?
Jo ai veüt les Sarrazins d'Espaigne,
Cuverz en sunt li val e les muntaignes
E li lariz e trestutes les plaignes.
Granz sunt les oz de cele gent estrange;
Nus i avum mult petite cumpaigne.»
Respunt Rollant: «Mis talenz en est graigne.
Ne placet Damnedeu ne ses angles
Que ja pur mei perdet sa valur France!
Melz voeill murir que huntage me venget.
Pur ben ferir l'emperere plus nos aimet.»

LXXXVII

Rollant est proz e Oliver est sage;
Ambedui unt me[r]veillus vasselage.
Puis que il sunt as chevals e as armes,
Ja pur murir n'eschiverunt bataille.
Bon sunt li cunte e lur paroles haltes.
Felun paien par grant irur chevalchent.
Dist Oliver: «Rollant, veez en alques!
Cist nus sunt pres, mais trop nus est loinz Carles.
Vostre olifan, suner vos nel deignastes;
Fust i li reis, n'i oüssum damage.
Guardez amunt devers les porz d'Espaigne:
Veeir poez, dolente est la rereguarde;
Ki ceste fait, jamais n'en ferat altre.»
Respunt Rollant: «Ne dites tel ultrage!
Mal seit del coer ki el piz se cuardet!
Nus remeindrum en estal en la place;
Par nos í ert e li colps e li caples.»

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