Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/123

 For my household, who have been slain for me. God grant me this, the Son of Saint Mary, Ere I am come to th’ master-pass of Size, From my body my soul at length go free! Among their souls let mine in glory be, And let my flesh upon their flesh be heaped.” Still his white beard he tears, and his eyes weep. Duke Naimès says: “His wrath is great indeed.” AOI.

“Sire, Emperour,” Gefrei d’Anjou implored, “Let not your grief to such excess be wrought; Bid that our men through all this field be sought, Whom those of Spain have in the battle caught; In a charnel command that they be borne.” Answered the King: “Sound then upon your horn.” AOI.

Gefreid d’Anjou upon his trumpet sounds; As Charlès bade them, all the Franks dismount. All of their friends, whose bodies they have found To a charnel speedily they bring down. Bishops there are, and abbots there enow, Canons and monks, vicars with shaven crowns; Absolution in God’s name they’ve pronounced; Incense and myrrh with precious gums they’ve ground, And lustily they’ve swung the censers round; With honour great they’ve laid them in the ground. They’ve left them there; what else might they do now? AOI.

That Emperour sets Rollant on one side And Oliver, and the Archbishop Turpine; Their bodies bids open before his eyes And all their hearts in silken veils to wind, And set them in coffers of marble white;