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第22章

"Take me by the arms, and so lift up my back."One of his gloves he takes in his left hand;Then says Marsile: "Sire, king and admiral, Quittance I give you here of all my land, With Sarraguce, and the honour thereto hangs.

Myself I've lost; my army, every man."

He answers him: "Therefore the more I'm sad.

No long discourse together may we have;

Full well I know, Charles waits not our attack, I take the glove from you, in spite of that."He turned away in tears, such grief he had.

Down by the steps, out of the palace ran, Mounted his horse, to's people gallopped back.

Cantered so far, he came before his band;From hour to hour then, as he went, he sang:

"Pagans, come on: already flee the Franks!"AOI.

CCIII

In morning time, when the dawn breaks at last, Awakened is that Emperour Charles.

Saint Gabriel, who on God's part him guards, Raises his hand, the Sign upon him marks.

Rises the King, his arms aside he's cast, The others then, through all the host, disarm.

After they mount, by virtue canter fast Through those long ways, and through those roads so large;They go to see the marvellous damage In Rencesvals, there where the battle was.

AOI.

CCIV

In Rencesvals is Charles entered, Begins to weep for those he finds there dead;Says to the Franks: "My lords, restrain your steps, Since I myself alone should go ahead, For my nephew, whom I would find again.

At Aix I was, upon the feast Noel, Vaunted them there my valiant chevaliers, Of battles great and very hot contests;With reason thus I heard Rollant speak then:

He would not die in any foreign realm Ere he'd surpassed his peers and all his men.

To the foes' land he would have turned his head, Conqueringly his gallant life he'ld end."Further than one a little wand could send, Before the rest he's on a peak mounted.

CCV

When the Emperour went seeking his nephew, He found the grass, and every flower that bloomed, Turned scarlat, with our barons' blood imbrued;Pity he felt, he could but weep for rue.

Beneath two trees he climbed the hill and looked, And Rollant's strokes on three terraces knew, On the green grass saw lying his nephew;`Tis nothing strange that Charles anger grew.

Dismounted then, and went -- his heart was full, In his two hands the count's body he took;With anguish keen he fell on him and swooned.

CCVI

That Emperour is from his swoon revived.

Naimes the Duke, and the count Aceline, Gefrei d'Anjou and his brother Tierry, Take up the King, bear him beneath a pine.

There on the ground he sees his nephew lie.

Most sweetly then begins he to repine:

"Rollant, my friend, may God to thee be kind!

Never beheld any man such a knight So to engage and so to end a fight.

Now my honour is turned into decline!"

Charle swoons again, he cannot stand upright.

AOI.

CCVII

Charles the King returned out of his swoon.

Him in their hands four of his barons took, He looked to the earth, saw lying his nephew;All colourless his lusty body grew, He turned his eyes, were very shadowful.

Charles complained in amity and truth:

"Rollant, my friend, God lay thee mid the blooms Of Paradise, among the glorious!

Thou cam'st to Spain in evil tide, seigneur!

Day shall not dawn, for thee I've no dolour.

How perishes my strength and my valour!

None shall I have now to sustain my honour;I think I've not one friend neath heaven's roof, Kinsmen I have, but none of them's so proof."He tore his locks, till both his hands were full.

Five score thousand Franks had such great dolour There was not one but sorely wept for rue.

AOI.

CCVIII

"Rollant, my friend, to France I will away;When at Loum, I'm in my hall again, Strange men will come from many far domains, Who'll ask me, where's that count, the Capitain;I'll say to them that he is dead in Spain.

In bitter grief henceforward shall I reign, Day shall not dawn, I weep not nor complain.

CCIX

"Rollant, my friend, fair youth that bar'st the bell, When I arrive at Aix, in my Chapelle, Men coming there will ask what news I tell;I'll say to them: `Marvellous news and fell.

My nephew's dead, who won for me such realms!'

Against me then the Saxon will rebel, Hungar, Bulgar, and many hostile men, Romain, Puillain, all those are in Palerne, And in Affrike, and those in Califerne;Afresh then will my pain and suffrance swell.

For who will lead my armies with such strength, When he is slain, that all our days us led?

Ah! France the Douce, now art thou deserted!

Such grief I have that I would fain be dead."All his white beard he hath begun to rend, Tore with both hands the hair out of his head.

Five score thousand Franks swooned on the earth and fell.

CCX

"Rollant, my friend, God shew thee His mercy!

In Paradise repose the soul of thee!

Who hath thee slain, exile for France decreed.

I'ld live no more, so bitter is my grief For my household, who have been slain for me.

God grant me this, the Son of Saint Mary, Ere I am come to th' master-pass of Size, From my body my soul at length go free!

Among their souls let mine in glory be, And let my flesh upon their flesh be heaped."Still his white beard he tears, and his eyes weep.

Duke Naimes says: "His wrath is great indeed."AOI.

CCXI

"Sire, Emperour," Gefrei d'Anjou implored, "Let not your grief to such excess be wrought;Bid that our men through all this field be sought, Whom those of Spain have in the battle caught;In a charnel command that they be borne."Answered the King: "Sound then upon your horn."AOI.

CCXII

Gefreid d'Anjou upon his trumpet sounds;

As Charles bade them, all the Franks dismount.

All of their friends, whose bodies they have found To a charnel speedily the bring down.

Bishops there are, and abbots there enow, Canons and monks, vicars with shaven crowns;Absolution in God's name they've pronounced;Incense and myrrh with precious gums they've ground, And lustily they've swung the censers round;With honour great they've laid them in the ground.

They've left them there; what else might they do now?

AOI.

CCXIII

That Emperour sets Rollant on one side And Oliver, and the Archbishop Turpine;Their bodies bids open before his eyes.

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