"Sir admiral," said to him Clariens, "In Rencesvals was yesterday battle.
Dead is Rollanz and that count Oliver, The dozen peers whom Charle so cherished, And of their Franks are twenty thousand dead.
King Marsilie's of his right hand bereft, And the Emperour chased him enow from thence.
Throughout this land no chevalier is left, But he be slain, or drowned in Sebres bed.
By river side the Franks have pitched their tents, Into this land so near to us they've crept;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;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."
