Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/141

 “Sir Baliganz, this day in shame you’re steeped; For you have lost your son, even Malprime; And Canabeus, your brother, slain is he. Fairly two Franks have got the victory; That Emperour was one, as I have seen; Great limbs he has, he’s every way Marquis, White is his beard as flowers in April.” That admiral has bent his head down deep, And thereafter lowers his face and weeps, Fain would he die at once, so great his grief; He calls to him Jangleu from over sea. AOI.

Says the admiral: “Jangleu, beside me stand! For you are proof, and greatly understand, Counsel from you I’ve ever sought to have. How seems it you, of Arrabits and Franks, Shall we from hence victorious go back?” He answers him: “Slain are you, Baligant! For from your gods you’ll never have warrant. So proud is Charles, his men so valiant, Never saw I a race so combatant. But call upon barons of Occiant, Turks and Enfruns, Arrabits and Giants. No more delay: what must be, take in hand.”

That admiral has shaken out his beard That ev’n so white as thorn in blossom seems; He’ll no way hide, whate’er his fate may be, Then to his mouth he sets a trumpet clear, And clearly sounds, so all the pagans hear. Throughout the field rally his companies. From Occiant, those men who bray and bleat, And from Argoille, who, like dogs barking, speak; Seek out the Franks with such a high folly, Break through their line, the thickest press they meet Dead from that shock they’ve seven thousand heaped.