The Song of Roland Part 20

CCx.x.xV

That admiral hath great possessions; He makes them bear before him his dragon, And their standard, Tervagan's and Mahom's, And his image, Apollin the felon.

Ten Canelious canter in the environs, And very loud the cry out this sermon: "Let who would from our G.o.ds have garrison, Serve them and pray with great affliction."

Pagans awhile their heads and faces on Their b.r.e.a.s.t.s abase, their polished helmets doff.

And the Franks say: "Now shall you die, gluttons; This day shall bring you vile confusion!

Give warranty, our G.o.d, unto Carlon!

And in his name this victory be won!"

AOI.

CCx.x.xVI

That admiral hath wisdom great indeed; His son to him and those two kings calls he: My lords barons, beforehand canter ye, All my columns together shall you lead; But of the best I'll keep beside me three: One is of Turks; the next of Ormaleis; And the third is the Giants of Malpreis.

And Occiant's, they'll also stay with me, Until with Charles and with the Franks they meet.

That Emperour, if he combat with me, Must lose his head, cut from his shoulders clean; He may be sure naught else for him's decreed.

AOI.

CCx.x.xVII

Great are the hosts, and all the columns fair, No peak nor vale nor cliff between them there, Thicket nor wood, nor ambush anywhere; Across the plain they see each other well.

Says Baligant: "My pagan tribes adverse, Battle to seek, canter ye now ahead!"

Carries the ensign Amboires of Oluferne; Pagans cry out, by Preciuse they swear.

And the Franks say: "Great hurt this day you'll get!"

And very loud "Monjoie!" they cry again.

That Emperour has bid them sound trumpets; And the olifant sounds over all its knell.

The pagans say: "Carlun's people are fair.

Battle we'll have, bitter and keenly set."

AOI.

CCx.x.xVIII

Great is that plain, and wide is that country; Their helmets shine with golden jewellery, Also their sarks embroidered and their shields, And the ensigns fixed on all their burnished spears.

The trumpets sound, their voice is very clear, And the olifant its echoing music speaks.

Then the admiral, his brother calleth he, 'Tis Canabeus, the king of Floredee, Who holds the land unto the Vale Sevree; He's shewn to him Carlun's ten companies: "The pride of France, renowned land, you see.

That Emperour canters right haughtily, His bearded men are with him in the rear; Over their sarks they have thrown out their beards Which are as white as driven snows that freeze.

Strike us they will with lances and with spears: Battle with them we'll have, prolonged and keen; Never has man beheld such armies meet."

Further than one might cast a rod that's peeled Goes Baligant before his companies.

His reason then he's shewn to them, and speaks: "Pagans, come on; for now I take the field."

His spear in hand he brandishes and wields, Towards Carlun has turned the point of steel.

AOI.

CCx.x.xIX

Charles the Great, when he sees the admiral And the dragon, his ensign and standard;-- (In such great strength are mustered those Arabs Of that country they've covered every part Save only that whereon the Emperour was.) The King of France in a loud voice has called: "Barons and Franks, good va.s.sals are ye all, Ye in the field have fought so great combats; See the pagans; they're felons and cowards, No pennyworth is there in all their laws.

Though they've great hosts, my lords, what matters that?

Let him go hence, who'ld fail me in the attack."

Next with both spurs he's gored his horse's flanks, And Tencendor has made four bounds thereat.

Then say the Franks: "This King's a good va.s.sal.

Canter, brave lord, for none of us holds back."

CCXL

Clear is the day, and the sun radiant; The hosts are fair, the companies are grand.

The first columns are come now hand to hand.

The count Rabel and the count Guinemans Let fall the reins on their swift horses' backs, Spurring in haste; then on rush all the Franks, And go to strike, each with his trenchant lance.

AOI.

CCXLI

That count Rabel, he was a hardy knight, He p.r.i.c.ked his horse with spurs of gold so fine, The Persian king, Torleu, he went to strike.

Nor shield nor sark could such a blow abide; The golden spear his carca.s.s pa.s.sed inside; Flung down upon a little bush, he died.

Then say the Franks: "Lord G.o.d, be Thou our Guide!

Charles we must not fail; his cause is right."

AOI.

CCXLII

And Guineman tilts with the king Leutice; Has broken all the flowers on his shield, Next of his sark he has undone the seam, All his ensign thrust through the carca.s.s clean, So flings him dead, let any laugh or weep.

Upon that blow, the Franks cry out with heat: "Strike on, baron, nor slacken in your speed!

Charle's in the right against the pagan breed; G.o.d sent us here his justice to complete."

AOI.

CCXLIII

Pure white the horse whereon Malprimes sate; Guided his corse amid the press of Franks, Hour in, hour out, great blows he struck them back, And, ever, dead one upon others packed.

Before them all has cried out Baligant: "Barons, long time I've fed you at my hand.

Ye see my son, who goes on Carlun's track, And with his arms so many lords attacks; Better va.s.sal than him I'll not demand.

Go, succour him, each with his trenchant lance!"

Upon that word the pagans all advance; Grim blows they strike, the slaughter's very grand.

And marvellous and weighty the combat: Before nor since was never such attack.

AOI.

CCXLIV

Great are the hosts; the companies in pride Come touching, all the breadth of either side; And the pagans do marvellously strike.

So many shafts, by G.o.d! in pieces lie And crumpled shields, and sarks with mail untwined!

So spattered all the earth there would you find That through the field the gra.s.s so green and fine With men's life-blood is all vermilion dyed.

That admiral rallies once more his tribe: "Barons, strike on, shatter the Christian line."

Now very keen and lasting is the fight, As never was, before or since that time; The finish none shall reach, unless he die.

AOI.

CCXLV

That admiral to all his race appeals: "Pagans, strike on; came you not therefore here?

I promise you n.o.ble women and dear, I promise you honours and lands and fiefs."

Answer pagans: "We must do well indeed."

With mighty blows they shatter all their spears; Five score thousand swords from their scabbards leap, Slaughter then, grim and sorrowful, you'd seen.

Battle he saw, that stood those hosts between.

AOI.