THE SONG OF ROLAND

Translatedby D. D. R. OWEN

THE BOYDELLPRESS The Song of Roland - 50] 1977-101,41 The Song of Roland [1015

And Lrecan ltear a greater load in sport Pagansare wrong and Christians in the right; Than four p;rck mules when they are burdened No bad exampleshall be set by me.' AOI. down. ?o The land he comesfrom, so the people say, Oliver stands upon a lofty hill And to the right looks down a grassy vale, Has never seen the sun, and no grain Srows; No rain falls there, nor dew upon the earth, Spies there the infidels as they approach. And erverysiLngle stone is black as pitch, To Roland his companion he then calls: 'Coming Some folk declareit is the haunt of fiends. from Spain such gleam of arms I see, CherrLublesaid: 'l have my good sword girt, So many shining hauberks, blazing helms, Which l shall turn crimson at Roncevaux. That for our French they hold great grief in store. If I firrd gallant Roland on mY way This Ganelon the wicked traitor knew, And don't arltackhim, then my word is false. When he named us beforethe emperor' My srvord will win the match with Durendal, 'Be silent, Oliver,' Count Roland says. The French r,adlldie, and Francewill be bereft!' 'He is my stepfather;I'll hear no more!' At this the p,agsnpeers gather all twelve, gl With them a hundred thousandSaracens, Oliver has climbed up onto a hill, Who hasten eagerly to join the fraY, And now he clearly seesthe Spanish realm ' And the assembledhorde of Saracens. f-- And in a pine-wood go to don their arms. \i/ 'Tq Bright shine the golden helms studded with gems, The p,ag615put Saracenhauberks on, Bright too the shields and saffronedlzcoats of mail, Most of thern reinforced with triple mail; And bright the spearswith flying gonfalons. They lace the splendid Saragossanhelms, The simple tally of the squadronsthere Gird on their swords wrought of Viana steel, He cannot count, so vast their numbers are; Take their fine shields and their sPearsfrom Valence And even he is seized with great alarm. With gonfalons of crimson, blue and white. He lost no time, but hastenedfrom the hill, Then they lorsake their palfreys and their mules, Came to the French, and gave them full report. Mourrt on their steeds, and ride in close array. 8L Bright was the day and radiant the sun; Said Oliver: 'The pagansI have seen: A11thLeir equipment glitters in its rays. Never has any man on earth seenmore. A thousand bugles sound a flourish forth: The vanguard is a hundred thousand strong, Great is the clamour, and the Frenchmen hear. With shields and gleaming hauberks, helmets laced; Said ,Oliver: 'Sir comrade, I believe On shafts erect the polished spear-headsshine, We may do battlewith the Saracens.' You'll have such battle as has never been. Rolarrdreplies: 'And may God grant it sol French lords, may God now send His strength to you. Our

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Friend Roland, I beseechyou, sound your horn! While we have but a puny company.' Then Charler;will hear; the army will turn back.' Roland replies:'l like it better so. Roland replies: 'Should I act like a fool May God Himself and His angels forbid And lose my fame and honour in fair France? That through me France'sworth should ever wane! No! I shall strike great blows with Durendal, I'd rather die than suffer such a shame. Stain it wiih gore up to its golden hilt. Stout blows endearus to the emDeror.'

The pagan knaves shall rue their coming here, VI For this I plerdge:each one is doomed to die.' AOI. ' ' Rolund is valiant, Oliver is wise, R+ And both are matchlessin their chivalry. 'Companion Roland,sound your oliphant! When they are armed and mounted on their steeds, The king will hear and turn ihe army back; For fear of death neither will shun the fray. Charlesand his baronswill come to our aid.' Excellentare the counts, Iofty their speech. Roland replies: 'May it never pleaseGod The wicked pagans wrathfully ride on. That blame should fall on my kinsfolk through me, Oliver said: 'Roland, just see them all! Or fair France ever lapse in infamy! How close they are, with Charles so far away! Rather I'll strike amain with Durendal / You did not deign to sound your oliphant, My trusty sword that hangs here at my side; Yet if the king were here, we'd have no harm. 4nd rr,ouwill see its blade all stained with gore, Look up towards the passesinto Spainl Thoserpagan knaves shall rue their gathering. Now you can see what plight the rearguard's in: I pledge you this: they are all marked for Its men will never form another one.' death.' AOL Roland replies: 'Tell no such tale to me! B' Cursed be the heart that quakes within the breast! 'Companion Roland, sound your oliphant, We shall stand fast and firm to hold our ground, And Charler;will hear as he goes th.roughthe pass; Hewing and hacking there as best we may.' AOI. And then, I pledge,the Frankswill turn about.' 'May God not please',Roland replies to him, ET 'That any man alive should urge me so When Roland seesthe battle will be joined, Or have rne sound my horn for infidels! Lions and leopards show less pride than he. Never shall my kinsmen bearthat reproach. He callsthe Frenchmen,summons Oliver: When I am fighting in the great affray, 'Companion, friend, I pray you say not sol I'll strike se'venhundred and a thousandblows. The emperor who left his French with us, Durendal's steel you shall see stained with gore. Allotting to us twenty thousand men, Stout are the French, valiantly they will strike: Thought not to find a single coward here, Never shall those from Spain escapetheir deathl' A man should suffer great ills for his lord, BC Endure the bitter cold and bear great heat, Said Oliver: 'l see no blamein it; And be prepared to lose both flesh and blood. For I have seenthe Saracensfrom Spain: Strike with your lance, and I with Durendal They cover both the mountains and the vales, My trusty sword, given me by the king! Swarming on hillsidesand throughout the plains. If I die here, the man who takes it up Huge are the armies of the foreign folk, Can say: "A noble vassalwielded this!" '

72 IJ The liong of Roland t('1o I ArchbishopTurpin is not far away. Spurring his horse, he gallops up a hill, Summonsthe French,and speaksthese solemn words: 'My lords and barons,Charles has left us here, o And for our king r,r,eshould in duty die. co

Lend aid now to rnaintain the Christian faith! N You'Il join in battle, as you know full well: 5 si Beforeyour eyes you seethe Saracens. :- Say your confessions,for God's mercy pray! oc I will absolvieyou to secureyour souls. If you die, blessedmartyrs you will be g And have your plar:eon high in Paradise.' E The French dismount and to the ground they fall For the archlbishop'sblessing in God's name. 3 As penancehe commandsthat they strike hard. I 1o' The French rfoseup again upon their feet,

Truly absolvedand pardoned for their sins o q? : And signedby the archbishopwith Cod's cross. o At this, they mounted on their speedysteeds r* s In arrns and armour fitting for true knights, .*{ (t And with their battle-gearall well equipped. GTF {d o Count Rolandthen calledupon Oliver: rq 'Companion, sir, asyou are well aware, k sJ We have all been betrayedby Ganelon, € \ai ;l Who has been paid in money, wealth and gold: ih! The emperorshould take vengeancefor us. !h. Marsile the }

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He rides with his companion at his heels, Hailed as protector by the men of France. Proudly he gazesat the Saracens, But on the French with mild humility; Them he addresseswith hue courtesy: 'My noble lords, go gently, do not hastel On savageslaughter these pagans are bent. Today our booty will be rich and rare, More preciousthan Frenchking has ever won.' He spoke these words, and then the armies clash, AOI. q,l t* Said Oliver: 'l have no time for words. You did not deign to sound your oliphant, And so of noble Charles there is no trace, For he knows nothing, and no guilt is his; And those men with him are not to be blamed. Ride forward then yourself with all your mightl My lords and barons, strive to hold the field! And in God's name, I beg you well attend To dealingblows: you'll give, and you'll receive! Let's not forget the battle-cryof Charles.' When the French hear these words, their shouts ring out. If you had heard them cry aloud 'Monioie!', Well you would call to mind true vassalage. Then they ride on, oh God! in such great pride, Drive in their spurs to go more quickly still, And so Presson to strike their blows-what else? The Saracenswere not in dread of them: Pagansand Franks, see them now come to grips! qa King Marsilehad a nePhew, Aeiroth, Who on his own rode at the army's head. He hurls his insults in our Frenchmen'steeth: 'You felon French,you'll joust with us today. By your protector you have been betrayed; Mad is the king to leaveyou in the pass' Today fair Franceshall forfeit its repute,

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And Charlemagnewill lose his own right arm!' 'Your menaces,you rogue, mean naugJntto m.e, When Roland heard him, God! what grief was his. Have at them, Franks, for well we'll vanquish them!' He spurs his steed on to a frantic pace; He shouts'Monjoiel', the battle-cryof Charler;. AOl. On the count drives, to strike with all his might. 1r His shield he shatters and his hauberk rends, A kine is there whose name is Corsablix: Cleaves through the breast and shivers all his bones, He is i Berber from a foreign iand; Sunders in twain the spine within his back: And he callsto the other Saracens: So with his spear he puts his soul to flight; 'This battlecan be won by us with ease, He thrusts well home and topples down his foe, For of the Frenchmen there are very fe'w. Hurls him at lance's length dead from his horse Thosewho are here we should hold in contennpt. With his neck broken in two equal parts. Not one of them is to be sparedfor Charles: Still he will not forbear to rail him: This is the day when they all needsmust die.' 'Charles is not mad, you blackest-heartedrogue, ArchbishopTurpin clearlyhears these words: And never was a friend of treachery. No man on earth has rousedhis hatred so. pass: Callant he was to leaveus in the He pricks his horse with his spurs of pure golLd Fair Franceshall not today lose iti repute. And with great vigour goes to strike at him. Have at them, Franks, for this first blow is ours! His shield he shattersand his hauberk splits, We're in the right, these villains in the And through his body drives his mighty spear; wrong./ AOI. He thrusts well home and topples his foe dead, At lance'slength hurls his corpseto the ground. 1t- A duke was there whose name was Falsaron, He looks behind and seesthe villain sprawl, him: And he was brother to Marsile the king, And he will not forbear to call to 'Ignoble lie, Ruler of Dathan and Abiron's land, pagan, you have told a ward us well; As foul a felon as is found on earth. For Charles my lord will always have no mirrd to flree, So broad his brow was spread between the eyes And since our Frenchmen That one could measure there a full half-foot. All your companions we shall force to stay! you must suffer death. Much grieved was he to seehis nephew slain. I've news for you: all none of you relent! He leaves the safety of the serried throng Have at them, Franks,let thanks be tc, God.' To shout the war-cry of the Saracens For this first blow is ours, 'Monjoie!' he holds the field. And at the Frenchmen hurl his mocking words: he shouts,and so 'Fair Franceshall lose its honour on this day!' 16 Oliver hears him and is filled with wrath. Then Gerin strikes Malprimis of Brigal,, He pricks his charger with his gilded spurs Whosegood shield is not worth a penny piece: And goes to strike him as a baron should. The crystal boss in many fragments flies; His shield he shatters and his hauberk rives, Full half of it he knocks down to the earth Plunges his pennant's streamersin his breast, And burstshis hauberkopen to the skin, Slays and unsaddleshim at iance'slength. Then plunges his good spear into his breast. Down on the ground he seesthe scoundrel lie, To the ground falls the pagan in a heap, And he addresseshim with theseproud words: And Satancomes to carry off his sou1. AOI.

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Ride onward then! Why do you hesitate? 'This wicked criminal guard well for me! Our fatherlandlies very far ahead.' AOI. He has wrought treasonon my comPerny.' He takesand guardshim with a hund.redknaves Count Roland's mouth runs red with his own blood. Amongst his scullions,both the best and worst. And at the temple he has burst his skull. Thev pluck the hair from his moustacheand beard, He sounds the oliphant with toil and pain. And each one strikes him four times with hir; fist; Charles hears it, and his Frenchmen listen too. And then they drub him well with stavesand sticks, Then said the king: 'How long this horn-blastholds!' And, with an iron collar round his ne,:k, Duke Naimes replies: 'A baron's effort, this! Bind him in fetterslust like any bear. I do not doubt in battle he's engaged, Shamefullyset on a pack-horse'sback, Betrayedby him who bids you stay your hand. He's kept to be deliveredup to Charles. Arm then, and shout aloud your battle-cry And go to aid your noble companyl High are the hills and shadowy and vast, ,4OI. You hear full well: Roland is desperate.' The valleys deep, the torrents rushing,swift. The bugles sound ahead and in the rear The emperorhas had his own horns sound. And all make echo to the oliphant. The Frenchmen all dismount and arm themselves The emperor rides onward in his wrath, With helms and hauberks and their gilded swords. The Frenchmen full of bitternessand grief; Fine are their shields, and long and stout their Not one of them but weepsand loud laments spears, Praying to God that He keep Roland safe With gonfalons of crimson, white and blue. Until together they have reachedthe field; Then all the army's barons mount their steeds Then they will all strike truly at his side. And through the pass'slength spur on with zest. To what avail?Nothing can help thenr now. Not one of them but to his neighbour said: Too long they've tarried to arrive in trLme. l\OI. 'Should we see Roland while he's still alive, We would deal mighty blows there at his side.' Onward with mighty rage rides Charlesthe king, To what avai-l?Too long they have delayed. His white beard lying on his byrnie'sbreast. Eachone of the Frenchbarons spurs with zerst; The day draws on, bright is the evening sky. No single man but gives vent to his ire The arms they carry gleam against the sun, Not to be there at captainRoland's side The hauberks and the helms seem all ablaze, As he fights with the Saracensof Spain. The shields too with their richly painted flowers, With such a wound, I think, his soul scarcestays. And all the spears and gilded gonfalons. But God, what sixty men are in his band! The emperor rides onward full of wrath, No king or captainever had their liker. AOlt. The Frenchmen full of grief and bitterness. Not one of them but weeps in great distress, Roland looks to the mountains and ttre steePs, And all for Roland's sake are much afraid. Seesthere so many men of Francelie dead. The king commands Count Ganelon's arrest He mourns them like the true-born knight h,eis: And has him handed to the roval cooks: 'My noble lords, may God His mercy show And to the chief of them, Besgon,he cries: And grant His Paradiseto all your souls

92 93 - e2l The Song of Roland t1856 The Song of Roland I rRO? _ O?11 'eLl And give them rest amid celestialflowers! His shield he shattersand his haubrerkrends, I never saw better vassals than you. And with this single blow he drops him dead. So long you have served rne with constancy, And then he slew both Yvoire and Yvon, And conquered such great lands in Charles's namel Along with them Gerard of Roussillon. The emperor retained you for your woe! Count Roland is not verv far awav. Oh realm of France,how {air land a you are, To the paganhe said: 'God bring you woerl Laid waste today by such calamity! To slay my comradeswas a wicked wrong: French lords, on my behalf I see you slain: For that you'll feel my blow before we part, I cannot shield you or protect you now, And know today the name of my good sword.' So may God help you, who was ever true! He goes to shike him like a valiant lord. Oliver, brother, you I must not fail. First his right fist the count has smitten of:f, From grief I'll die, if from no other blow. And then the head of Jurfaleu the Fair, Companion, sir, let us set to againl' None other than the son of Kins Marsile. \,1i. The paganscry: 'Mahomet, heli us now! Count Roland has gone back onto the field, Our own true gods, give us revengL:on Charles! And wielding Durendal strikesvaliant blows. For he has sent such villainsto this land Faldrun of Pui he has there split in twain. That they will die rather than quit the field.' With him two dozen of the very best: One to the other said: 'Now lei us :fleel' Never will man thirst for his vengeancemore. At this a hundred thousand men make off: Just as the stag takes flight before the hounds, They'll not return, whoever callsthem back. AOI. So before Roland all the pagans flee. Said the archbishop: 'You do splendid deeds! Yet what does this avail? Marsile is fled, This is such valour as a knight should show But Marganicehis uncle is still ther,e; Who bears his arms astride a sterlins steed: Carthage he holds, Alfrere and Garmalie, In battle he should be both strong uid fiutce, And Ethiopia, a land accursed, Or else four penny pieces are worth more, Peopledby blackmen, whom he holds in fee: And he should be a cloistered monk instead Wide are their ears, and broad their noses are; And ever after pray for all our sins.' They number more than fifty thous,andstrong. Roland replies:'Strike on, no quarteryield!' Ferociouslyand full of wrath they ride, Hearing these words, the Franks set to once more, Then call aloud the paganbattle-cry'. Ur, still the Christianlosses mount apace. 'Our martyrdom', said Roland, 'is at hand. L I know our lives have now not lon5;to run, But only scoundrelswill not sell theirs deeLr, When a man knows no captive will be made, Strike on, my lords, with your fine furbished swords! Then stout is his defence in such a frav. Not without challengeyou must live and die, And so like lions the Franks fiercely fight. And never let fair Francebe shamedby us! See now Marsile make his lordly approachl When Charles my lord has come upon this field, He sits astride the horse he calls Gaignon, He'll seesuch slaughterof the Saracens Digs in his spurs and goes to strike Bevon, That he'll find fifteen dead for one of us Who was the lord of Beaune and of Diion. And will not fail to blessus for our deeds.' AOI.

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He has lost so much blood his strength is gone. Went toward Spain, into a fallow field, Before a man could go an acre's breadth And climbed a hillock. Under a fine tree His heart fails, and he topples on his face; There stand four blocks, each one of marble made. His own death-pangsnow have him in their grip. Down on his back he falls on the green grass, And there he swoons, for now his cleathisr nigh, Roland the count recoversfrom his swoon, 161 Climbs to his feet despite his great distress, High are the hills and towering the trees. And then he turns his gaze both up and down. Four gleaming marble blocks are standing there. Beyond his comrades,there on the Sreengrass Count Roland,swooning, lies on the green grass. He seesthe noble baron lying still, Watchinghim closelyis a Saracen The good archbishop, God's servant on earth, Who lies among the others, feignini; death: Who, eyesupturned, confessesall his sins; His body and his facehe's smearedwith blood. With both his hands ioined and to Heaven raised, He jumps up quickly and runs forward now. He prays to God to grant him Paradise. Handsome he is, and strong and fulll of fight; Turpin is dead, Charles's great warrior His arroganceto fatal folly leads: And ever, in fierce fray and sermon fine, He seizesRoland's body and his arrns True champion against the infidel. And says:'Charles's nephew is overcome. May God grant him His holy benison! AOI. Backto Arabia I'll bear this sword!' But as he tugged at it, the count cameto. Count Roland seesthe archbishop lie there lt -In With all his entrails spilt upon the ground 't Wh"n Rolandfeels him take away hLissword, And his brains gushing forth below his brow; His eyeshe opens,and he saysto hrim: Beneath the collar-bone, upon his breast 'You're not, it seemsto me, one of our menl' His hands are crossed, so delicateand white. Grasping the oliphant he would not lose, Roland laments him in the Frankish way: He strikes him on his gilded jewelied helm, 'Ah, noble man, knight of high lineage, Shattersthe steei,the skull, and all the head, To God above I commend you this day. And from their socketsthrusts out both the eyes; No man will ever serve Him with more zeal; Down at his feet he fells his foemanrdead. Since the apostlesno prophet has lived And then he said: 'Foul pagan, hovr so bold Who won more men for the faith he maintained. Rightly or wrongly to lay hands on me? May your soul never lack for anything, All thosewho hear of this will thinl( you mad. But find the satesof Paradisestand wide!' My oliphant is split now at its mouth, L^n and goid fallen awa7r.' v tbb The crystal the Roland feels that his own death is near, Now r-1l'' For from his ears his brains are running forth. ' Now Rolandfinds that all his sight is goner. He prays to God to summon all his peers, He strugglesto his feet as best he may; Himself invokes the angel Gabriel. And all the colour from his face is fled. To keep from blame, he took the oliphant, Before him stands a dark and swarthy storre: And he seizedhold of Durendal his sword On it he strikes ten blows in bitter grief. And further than a crossbow's shaft can fly Loud grates the steel, but does not break or breach.

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'Ah,' said the count, 'sweet Mary, help me now! Ah, my good Durendal, alas for youl With life, I'11leave my rnasteryof you. With you I've won such battlesin the field, And so many vast lands I've brought to heel That are now held by hoary-beardedCharles! May no man own you rn'howould flee in fight! So fine a vassalheld you for so long! In blessedFrance your like will not be found.' l-ln| | I Roland strikes hard on the sardonyx stone; Loud grates the steel, but does not break or notch. Then, when he saw he could not shiver it, Soft to himself he started this lament: " 'Ah, Durendal, how fair and bright you shine, And with what fire you glitter in the sun! Charles once was in the vales of Maurienne When, through an angel He sent from above, God bade him give you to a captain count: The great and noble king girt you on me. With you I conquered Anjou, Brittany, With you I won for him Poitou and Maine And for him conquered Normandy the free And overcameProvence and Aquitaine. The whole of the Romagna, Lombardy, And won all Flanders and Bavaria, Burgundy and Apulia entire, Constantinoplethat he held in fee, And Saxony, where he does what he will; With you I won Scotland and Ireland too, And England,which he heid as his domain; With you so many lands and realmsI've won That now white-bearded Charles holds in his sway. Sorely I grieve and sorrow for this sword: I'd die to save it from the infidel. Our Father,God above, spareFrance this shame!' rl?' - Roland strikeshard upon a swarthy stone, Cuts more of it away than I could tell. Loud gratesthe sword, but does not break or snap:

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Instead it flies rebounding to the sky. When the count seeshe cannot shatterit, In soft tonesto himself he makeslamentt 'Ah, Durendal,holy and fair you are! Relicsin plenty fill your gilded hilt: Saint Peter'stooth, some of Saint Basil'sblood, Hairs from the head of my lord Saint Denis, Part of a garmentblessed Mary wore, For infidels to wield you would be wrong: Your serviceis for Christian men alone; And may no cravencoward take you up! So many vast lands I have won with you That now are held by grizzle-bearcledCharles And bring the emperor richesand might.' n4 ' Now Rolandfeels that death closer;its grip, Descendingfrom his head down to his heart. Running, he makeshis way beneatha pine, And on the green grass he prostrates himself, Placingbeneath him sword and oliphant, His head he turns towards the infidel, Becausehe wishes from his very srrul That Charles and all his company shall sery: 'This noble count has died a conoueror!' Then beatingmany times upon his breast, He offers for his sins his glove to God. AOL l-ftr Now Roland feelshis life is at an e,nd. Upon a steep hilltop he faces Spairr, And with his hand he beatsagains;t his breast: 'God, I confessmy sins beforeyouLr might. Forgive me for the faults both great and small That I've committedsince I first drew breath Until this day, when I am strickendownl' Then his right glove he held aloft to God. Angels descendfrom Heavento his side. AOI. 116 Roland the count lies there beneatha pine; His facehe's set toward the realm of Spain.

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His mind began to turn on divers things: Together twenty thousand swooning fall. The many lands he had with valour won, Duke Naimes is filled with pity for their sake. Fair France,the men of his own lineage, f78 And Charlemagne,his patron and his lord. There is no knight or baron on the field He could but weep and sigh with heavy heart; But, pricked by pity, weeps abundarrtly. But he was not forgetful of himself They mourn their nephews, brothers, and their sons, And begged God to have mercy for his sins: And all their friends and their liege lords besides; 'Our rightful Father, fountain of all truth, And most of them fall swooning to the ground. Who from the dead raised holy Lazarus But then Duke Naimes showed his true gallantry And guarded Daniel in the lions' den, And spoke the first words to the errrperor: Protect my soul from every peril now 'Look over there, two leaguesahead of us! And from the sins committed while I lived!' Seeon the highwayshow the dust-doudsrise: Then his right glove he offered up to God: Great numbers of the pagan folk are there. Saint Gabriel received it from his hand. Ride on, and take revengefor our distress!' He held his head bowed down upon his arm, 'Oh God,' said Charles,'They are so far awayl Folded his hands, and went to meet his end. But grant that honour and justice be done! To him God sent His angel Cherubim They plucked from m.ethe flower o{ fair Francel' Together with Saint Michael du Peril; The king commands Geboin and Oton, And with them both there came Saint Gabriel Tedbaldof Rheims,and with him Count Milon: To bear the count's soul up to Paradise. 'Guard well the field, the mountains and the vales, 117 And let the slain lie there just as they are, Roland is dead, his soul with God in Heaven. Untouched by lion or by any beast, The emperor is come to Roncevaux. And undisturbed by any squire or ltnave! There is no way there and no single track, I bid you see that no man touches them No open ground, no yard or even foot Until, pleaseGod, I come back to the field.' Where neither infidel nor Frenchman lies. 'Just emperor,dear lord, this we will do.' Charlescalls aloud: 'Fair nephew, where are you? With them they keep a thousand of their Where the archbishop, where Count Oliver? knights, AOI. Where are Gerin and his comrade Gerier? t71' _. Where is Oton, and where Count Berengier? The emperorthen has his buglessound Where Yvon and Yvoire so dear to me? And forward with his great host nobly rides. And where are Engelier of Gascony, Now they have made the Spaniardrsturn their backs, Duke Samsonand the noble Anseis? And all togetherjoin in the pursuit. And where is old Gerard of Roussillon? But when the king seesthat the eveningfalls, Where then are these twelve peers I left behind?' Dismounting on a verdant meadow's grass What use to ask, when none can make reply? He lies down on the ground and prays to God 'God,' said the king, 'how dire is my dismay That for him He may make the sun stand still, Not to have been here to begin the frayl' Make the day linger and the night delay. He plucks his beard like a man racked with grief; An angel then, with whom he often spoke, Tears fill the eyes of all his baron knights. Appeared to him and gave this prompt command:

108 1.09 [2454- 8e) The Song of Roland The Song of Roland 124e0- 526]l

'Ride on, then, Charles: the daylight shall not faill Remove the saddlesfrom their horses' bacl.ls, God knows you've lost the finest flower of France Unfasten from their heads the goldernreins, You may avengethem on the felon folk.' And turn them to the fresh grass in the fields: I l- No other, better care is theirs to giver. For Charlemagnea mighty miracle A weary man will sleep well on the earth; God wrought, and stayed the sun there where it No single sentinel that night was set. stood. The pagans flee; the Franks hotly pursue, Down in a meadow lay the emperor,, Catch up with them in the Val Tenebros, The noble man, his grbat spear at his head, Chasing them hard toward Saragossa'swalls, That night he would not take his arrnour oi[f, Slaying them as they go with mighty blows. Kept his bright burnished hauberk on his back; They block their roads and cut off their main routes. And still his gilded, jewelled helm was laced, The Ebro's waters flow before them now, And at his side was girt peerlessJoyeuse, Rushing and terrible and wondrous deep; Which changescolour thirty times a day. There is no ferry, barge or galley there. There is much we could tell about the lance The pagans call to their god Tervagant, With which our Lord was wounded on the cross: Then they leap in; but there is no escape. Charleshad its tip, for which praise be to God, Those who are fully armed weigh heaviest, And in the gilded pommel had it set. And many of them sink down in the depths; In token of this honour and this grace The rest, who float, are swept down with the stream, The name Joyeusewas given to the sword. And the more fortunate have drunk so much This the French noblemen should not forget: That all are drowned with dreadful suffering. From it they took their battle-cry'Monjoie!", The Frenchmenshout: 'Alas, Roland,for you!' AOI. So over them no people can prevail.

When Charles seesall the infidels are dead, Clear is the night, and shining is the moon. Many slain by the sword, but still more drowned, Charleslies at rest, but grieves for Roland's sake; Leaving behind great booty for his knights, And he is much distressedfor Oliver, The noble king, dismounting from his steed, For the twelve peersand all the men of France, Lies on the ground and gives his thanks to God. In Roncevauxthey're left, bloody and dead, When he rose to his feet, the sun had set. And he cannot but grieve and mourn for them The emperor said: 'It is time to camp: And pray for God's protectionfor their souLls. Too late now to return to Roncevaui, The king's great anguish has so wearied hi:m, For all our steeds are flagging with fatigue. He falls asleep,for he can do no more. Unsaddle them! Loose the reins from their heads, Now all the Franks throughout the rneadow sleep. And let them rest and graze among these fieldsl' There is no horse that can stay on its feet; The Franks reply: 'What you have said is Those that will gtaze must do so lying down. right.' AOI. He has learned much who has known suffering.

The emperor has now set up his camp. l6Charleslies asleeplike a tormented man. In open country all the Franks dismount, Saint Cabriel is sent to him by God

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