Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/48

 “Fair Master Guene,” says then King Marsilie, Shew the device, how Rollant slain may be.” Answers him Guenes: “That will I soon make clear: The King will cross by the good pass of Size, A guard he’ll set behind him, in the rear; His nephew there, count Rollant, that rich peer, And Oliver, in whom he well believes; Twenty thousand Franks in their company. Five score thousand pagans upon them lead, Franks unawares in battle you shall meet, Bruised and bled white the race of Franks shall be; I do not say, but yours shall also bleed. Battle again deliver, and with speed. So, first or last, from Rollant you’ll be freed. You will have wrought a high chivalrous deed, Nor all your life know war again, but peace. AOI.

“Could one achieve that Rollant’s life was lost, Charlè’s right arm were from his body torn; Though there remained his marvellous great host, He’d not again assemble in such force; Terra Major would languish in repose.” Marsile has heard, he’s kissed him on the throat; Next he begins to undo his treasure-store. AOI.

Said Marsilie—but now what more said they?— “No faith in words by oath unbound I lay; Swear me the death of Rollant on that day.” Then answered Guene: “So be it, as you say.” On the relics, are in his sword Murglès, Treason he’s sworn, forsworn his faith away. AOI.