Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/116

 “May Mahumet, who all of us doth keep, And Tervagan, and our lord Apoline Preserve the king and guard from harm the queen!” Says Bramimunde: “Great foolishness I hear: Those gods of ours in cowardice are steeped; In Rencesvals they wrought an evil deed, Our chevaliers they let be slain in heaps; My lord they failed in battle, in his need, Never again will he his right hand see; For that rich count, Rollanz, hath made him bleed. All our whole Spain shall be for Charles to keep. Miserable! What shall become of me? Alas! That I’ve no man to slay me clean!” AOI.

Says Clarïen: “My lady, say not that! We’re messengers from pagan Baligant; To Marsilies, he says, he’ll be warrant, So sends him here his glove, also this wand. Vessels we have, are moored by Sebrè’s bank, Barges and skiffs and gallies four thousand, Dromonds are there—I cannot speak of that. Our admiral is wealthy and puissant. And Charlemagne he will go seek through France And quittance give him, dead or recreant.” Says Bramimunde: “Unlucky journey, that! Far nearer here you’ll light upon the Franks; For seven years he’s stayed now in this land. That Emperour is bold and combatant, Rather he’ld die than from the field draw back; No king neath heav’n above a child he ranks. Charles hath no fear for any living man.

Says Marsilies the king: “Now let that be.” To th’ messengers: “Sirs, pray you, speak to me.