Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/121

 Pity he felt, he could but weep for rue. Beneath two trees he climbed the hill and looked, And Rollant’s strokes on three terraces knew, On the green grass saw lying his nephew; ’Tis nothing strange that Charlè’s anger grew. Dismounted then, and went—his heart was full, In his two hands the count’s body he took; With anguish keen he fell on him and swooned.

That Emperour is from his swoon revived. Naimès the Duke, and the count Aceline, Gefrei d’Anjou and his brother Tierry, Take up the King, bear him beneath a pine. There on the ground he sees his nephew lie. Most sweetly then begins he to repine: “Rollant, my friend, may God to thee be kind! Never beheld any man such a knight So to engage and so to end a fight. Now my honour is turned into decline!” Charle swoons again, he cannot stand upright. AOI.

Charlès the King returned out of his swoon. Him in their hands four of his barons took, He looked to the earth, saw lying his nephew; All colourless his lusty body grew, He turned his eyes, were very shadowful. Charlès complained in amity and truth: “Rollant, my friend, God lay thee mid the blooms Of Paradise, among the glorious! Thou cam’st to Spain in evil tide, seigneur! Day shall not dawn, for thee I’ve no dolour. How perishes my strength and my valour! None shall I have now to sustain my honour; I think I’ve not one friend neath heaven’s roof, Kinsmen I have, but none of them’s so proof.”