His nephew there installed, Rollanz the count,2775
And Oliver; the dozen peers around;
A thousand score of Franks in armour found.
Marsile the king fought with them there, so proud;
He and Rollanz upon that field did joust.
With Durendal he dealt him such a clout2780
From his body he cut the right hand down.
His son is dead, in whom his heart was bound,
And the barons that service to him vowed;
Fleeing he came, he could no more hold out.
That Emperour has chased him well enow.2785
The king implores, you’ll hasten with succour,
Yields to you Spain, his kingdom and his crown.”
And Baligant begins to think, and frowns;
Such grief he has, doth nearly him confound.
CC
“Sir admiral,” said to him Clarïens,2790
“In Rencesvals was yesterday battle.
Dead is Rollanz and that count Oliver,
The dozen peers whom Charle so cherishèd,
And of their Franks are twenty thousand dead.
King Marsilie’s of his right hand bereft,1795
And the Emperour chased him enow from thence.
Throughout this land no chevalier is left,
But he be slain, or drowned in Sebrè’s bed.
By river side the Franks have pitched their tents,
Into this land so near to us they’ve crept;2800
But, if you will, grief shall go with them hence.”
And Baligant looked on him proudly then,
In his courage grew joyous and content;
From the fald-stool upon his feet he leapt,
Then cried aloud: “Barons, too long ye’ve slept;2805
Forth from your ships issue, mount, canter well!
If he flee not, that Charlemagne the eld,
King Marsilies shall somehow be avenged;
For his right hand I’ll pay him back an head.”
90
