The Harvard Classics-Epic and Saga Part 4

XLII

The heathen said, "I marvel sore Of Carlemaine, so old and h.o.a.r, Who counts I ween two hundred years, Hath borne such strokes of blades and spears, So many lands hath overrun, So many mighty kings undone, When will he tire of war and strife?"

"Not while his nephew breathes in life Beneath the cope of heaven this day Such va.s.sal leads not king's array.

Gallant and sage is Olivier, And all the twelve, to Karl so dear, With twenty thousand Franks in van, He feareth not the face of man."

XLIII

"Strange," said Marsil, "seems to me, Karl, so white with eld is he, Twice a hundred years, men say, Since his birth have pa.s.sed away.

All his wars in many lands, All the strokes of trenchant brands, All the kings despoiled and slain,-- When will he from war refrain?"

"Not till Roland breathes no more, For from hence to eastern sh.o.r.e, Where is chief with him may vie?

Olivier his comrades by, And the peers, of Karl the pride, Twenty thousand Franks beside, Vanguard of his host, and flower: Karl may mock at mortal power."

XLIV

"I tell thee, Sir Gan, that a power is mine; Fairer did never in armor s.h.i.+ne, Four hundred thousand cavaliers, With the Franks of Karl to measure spears."

"Fling such folly," said Gan, "away; Sorely your heathen would rue the day.

Proffer the Emperor ample prize, A sight to dazzle the Frankish eyes; Send him hostages full of score, So returns he to France once more.

But his rear will tarry behind the host; There, I trow, will be Roland's post-- There will Sir Olivier remain.

Hearken to me, and the counts lie slain; The pride of Karl shall be crushed that day, And his wars be ended with you for aye."

XLV

"Speak, then, and tell me, Sir Ganelon, How may Roland to death be done?"

"Through Cizra's pa.s.s will the Emperor wind, But his rear will linger in march behind; Roland and Olivier there shall be, With twenty thousand in company.

Muster your battle against them then, A hundred thousand heathen men.

Till worn and spent be the Frankish bands, Though your bravest perish beneath their hands.

For another battle your powers be ma.s.sed, Roland will sink, overcome at last.

There were a feat of arms indeed, And your life from peril thenceforth be freed."

XLVI

"For whoso Roland to death shall bring, From Karl his good right arm will wring, The marvellous host will melt away, No more shall he muster a like array, And the mighty land will in peace repose."

King Marsil heard him to the close; Then kissed him on the neck, and bade His royal treasures be displayed.

XLVII

What said they more? Why tell the rest?

Said Marsil, "Fastest bound is best; Come, swear me here to Roland's fall."

"Your will," said Gan, "be mine in all."

He swore on the relics in the hilt Of his sword Murgleis, and crowned his guilt.

XLVIII

A stool was there of ivory wrought.

King Marsil bade a book be brought, Wherein was all the law contained Mahound and Termagaunt ordained.

The Saracen hath sworn thereby, If Roland in the rear-guard lie, With all his men-at-arms to go, And combat till the count lay low.

Sir Gan repeated, "Be it so."

XLIX

King Marsil's foster-father came, A heathen, Valdabrun by name.

He spake to Gan with laughter clear.

"My sword, that never found its peer,-- A thousand pieces would not buy The riches in the hilt that lie,-- To you I give in guerdon free; Your aid in Roland's fall to see, Let but the rear-guard be his place."

"I trust," said Gan, "to do you grace."

Then each kissed other on the face.

L

Next broke with jocund laughter in, Another heathen, Climorin.

To Gan he said, "Accept my helm, The best and trustiest in the realm, Conditioned that your aid we claim To bring the marchman unto shame."

"Be it," said Ganelon, "as you list."

And then on cheek and mouth they kissed.

LI

Now Bramimonde, King Marsil's queen, To Ganelon came with gentle mien.

"I love thee well, Sir Count," she spake, "For my lord the king and his n.o.bles' sake.

See these clasps for a lady's wrist, Of gold, and jacinth, and amethyst, That all the jewels of Rome outs.h.i.+ne; Never your Emperor owned so fine; These by the queen to your spouse are sent."

The gems within his boot he pent.

LII

Then did the king on his treasurer call, "My gifts for Karl, are they ready all?"

"Yea, sire, seven hundred camels' load Of gold and silver well bestowed, And twenty hostages thereby, The n.o.blest underneath the sky."

LIII

On Ganelon's shoulder King Marsil leant.

"Thou art sage," he said, "and of gallant bent; But by all thy holiest law deems dear, Let not thy thought from our purpose veer.

Ten mules' burthen I give to thee Of gold, the finest of Araby; Nor ever year henceforth shall pa.s.s But it brings thee riches in equal ma.s.s.

Take the keys of my city gates, Take the treasure that Karl awaits-- Render them all; but oh, decide That Roland in the rear-guard bide; So may I find him by pa.s.s or height, As I swear to meet him in mortal fight."

Cried Gan, "Meseemeth too long we stay,"

Sprang on his charger and rode away.

LIV