Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/46

 Then says Marsile: “Guenès, 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 Charlès 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 illuminèd, Better to die than leave his banneret.

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 Charlès holds so precious, These are his guards, with other thousands twenty. Charles is secure, he holds no man in terror.” AOI.