Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/67

 Proudly he looks towards the Sarrazins, And to the Franks sweetly, himself humbling; And courteously has said to them this thing: “My lords barons, go now your pace holding! Pagans are come great martyrdom seeking; Noble and fair reward this day shall bring, Was never won by any Frankish King.” Upon these words the hosts are come touching. AOI.

Speaks Oliver: “No more now will I say. Your olifant, to sound it do not deign, Since from Carlun you’ll never more have aid. He has not heard; no fault of his, so brave. Those with him there are never to be blamed. So canter on, with what prowess you may! Lords and barons, firmly your ground maintain! Be minded well, I pray you in God’s Name, Stout blows to strike, to give as you shall take. Forget the cry of Charles we never may.” Upon this word the Franks cry out amain. Who then had heard them all “Monjoie!” acclaim Of vassalage might well recall the tale. They canter forth, God! with what proud parade, Pricking their spurs, the better speed to gain; They go to strike,—what other thing could they?— But Sarrazins are not at all afraid. Pagans and Franks, you’d see them now engaged.

Marsile’s nephew, his name is Aëlroth, First of them all canters before the host, Says of our Franks these ill words as he goes: “Felons of France, so here on us you close! Betrayed you has he that to guard you ought; Mad is the King who left you in this post. So shall the fame of France the Douce be lost, And the right arm from Charlè’s body torn.”