READ STUDY GUIDE: Laisses 27-52 |
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Section 2:
Laisses 27-52
Laisses 27-52
| XXVII |
| Guenes the count goes to his hostelry, |
| Finds for the road his garments and his gear, |
| All of the best he takes that may appear: |
| Spurs of fine gold he fastens on his feet, |
| And to his side Murgles his sword of steel. |
| On Tachebrun, his charger, next he leaps, |
| His uncle holds the stirrup, Guinemere. |
| Then you had seen so many knights to weep, |
| Who all exclaim: "Unlucky lord, indeed! |
| In the King's court these many years you've been, |
| Noble vassal, they say that have you seen. |
| He that for you this journey has decreed |
| King Charlemagne will never hold him dear. |
| The Count Rollant, he should not so have deemed, |
| Knowing you were born of very noble breed." |
| After they say: "Us too, Sire, shall he lead." |
| Then answers Guenes: "Not so, the Lord be pleased! |
| Far better one than many knights should bleed. |
| To France the Douce, my lords, you soon shall speed, |
| On my behalf my gentle wife you'll greet, |
| And Pinabel, who is my friend and peer, |
| And Baldewin, my son, whom you have seen; |
| His rights accord and help him in his need." |
| —Rides down the road, and on his way goes he. |
 AOI. |
| XXVIII |
| Guenes canters on, and halts beneath a tree; |
| Where Sarrazins assembled he may see, |
| With Blancandrins, who abides his company. |
| Cunning and keen they speak then, each to each, |
| Says Blancandrins: "Charles, what a man is he, |
| Who conquered Puille and th'whole of Calabrie; |
| Into England he crossed the bitter sea, |
| To th' Holy Pope restored again his fee. |
| What seeks he now of us in our country?" |
| Then answers Guene "So great courage hath he; |
| Never was man against him might succeed." |
| AOI. |
| XXIX |
| Says Blancandrins "Gentle the Franks are found; |
| Yet a great wrong these dukes do and these counts |
| Unto their lord, being in counsel proud; |
| Him and themselves they harry and confound." |
| Guenes replies: "There is none such, without |
| Only Rollanz, whom shame will yet find out. |
| Once in the shade the King had sate him down; |
| His nephew came, in sark of iron brown, |
| Spoils he had won, beyond by Carcasoune, |
| Held in his hand an apple red and round. |
| "Behold, fair Sire," said Rollanz as he bowed, |
| "Of all earth's kings I bring you here the crowns." |
| His cruel pride must shortly him confound, |
| Each day t'wards death he goes a little down, |
| When he be slain, shall peace once more abound." |
| AOI. |
| XXX |
| Says Blancandrins: "A cruel man, Rollant, |
| That would bring down to bondage every man, |
| And challenges the peace of every land. |
| With what people takes he this task in hand?" |
| And answers Guene: "The people of the Franks; |
| They love him so, for men he'll never want. |
| Silver and gold he show'rs upon his band, |
| Chargers and mules, garments and silken mats. |
| The King himself holds all by his command; |
| From hence to the East he'll conquer sea and land." |
| AOI. |
| XXXI |
| Cantered so far then Blancandrins and Guene |
| Till each by each a covenant had made |
| And sought a plan, how Rollant might be slain. |
| Cantered so far by valley and by plain |
| To Sarraguce beneath a cliff they came. |
| There a fald-stool stood in a pine-tree's shade, |
| Enveloped all in Alexandrin veils; |
| There was the King that held the whole of Espain, |
| Twenty thousand of Sarrazins his train; |
| Nor was there one but did his speech contain, |
| Eager for news, till they might hear the tale. |
| Haste into sight then Blancandrins and Guene. |
| XXXII |
| Blancandrin comes before Marsiliun, |
| Holding the hand of county Guenelun; |
| Says to the King "Lord save you, Sire, Mahum |
| And Apollin, whose holy laws here run! |
| Your message we delivered to Charlun, |
| Both his two hands he raised against the sun, |
| Praising his God, but answer made he none. |
| He sends you here his noblest born barun, |
| Greatest in wealth, that out of France is come; |
| From him you'll hear if peace shall be, or none." |
| "Speak," said Marsile: "We'll hear him, every one." |
| AOI. |
| XXXIII |
| But the count Guenes did deeply meditate; |
| Cunning and keen began at length, and spake |
| Even as one that knoweth well the way; |
| And to the King: "May God preserve you safe, |
| The All Glorious, to whom we're bound to pray |
| Proud Charlemagne this message bids me say: |
| You must receive the holy Christian Faith, |
| And yield in fee one half the lands of Spain. |
| If to accord this tribute you disdain, |
| Taken by force and bound in iron chain |
| You will be brought before his throne at Aix; |
| Judged and condemned you'll be, and shortly slain, |
| Yes, you will die in misery and shame." |
| King Marsilies was very sore afraid, |
| Snatching a dart, with golden feathers gay, |
| He made to strike: they turned aside his aim. |
| AOI. |
| XXXIV |
| King Marsilies is turn'ed white with rage, |
| His feathered dart he brandishes and shakes. |
| Guenes beholds: his sword in hand he takes, |
| Two fingers' width from scabbard bares the blade; |
| And says to it: "O clear and fair and brave; |
| Before this King in court we'll so behave, |
| That the Emperour of France shall never say |
| In a strange land I'd thrown my life away |
| Before these chiefs thy temper had essayed." |
| "Let us prevent this fight:" the pagans say. |
| XXXV |
| Then Sarrazins implored him so, the chiefs, |
| On the faldstoel Marsillies took his seat. |
| "Greatly you harm our cause," says the alcaliph: |
| "When on this Frank your vengeance you would wreak; |
| Rather you should listen to hear him speak." |
| "Sire," Guenes says, "to suffer I am meek. |
| I will not fail, for all the gold God keeps, |
| Nay, should this land its treasure pile in heaps, |
| But I will tell, so long as I be free, |
| What Charlemagne, that Royal Majesty, |
| Bids me inform his mortal enemy." |
| Guenes had on a cloke of sable skin, |
| And over it a veil Alexandrin; |
| These he throws down, they're held by Blancandrin; |
| But not his sword, he'll not leave hold of it, |
| In his right hand he grasps the golden hilt. |
| The pagans say. "A noble baron, this." |
| AOI. |
| XXXVI |
| Before the King's face Guenes drawing near |
| Says to him "Sire, wherefore this rage and fear? |
| Seeing you are, by Charles, of Franks the chief, |
| Bidden to hold the Christians' right belief. |
| One half of Spain he'll render as your fief |
| The rest Rollanz, his nephew, shall receive, |
| Proud parcener in him you'll have indeed. |
| If you will not to Charles this tribute cede, |
| To you he'll come, and Sarraguce besiege; |
| Take you by force, and bind you hands and feet, |
| Bear you outright ev'n unto Aix his seat. |
| You will not then on palfrey nor on steed, |
| Jennet nor mule, come cantering in your speed; |
| Flung you will be on a vile sumpter-beast; |
| Tried there and judged, your head you will not keep. |
| Our Emperour has sent you here this brief." |
| He's given it into the pagan's nief. |
| XXXVII |
| Now Marsilies, is turn'ed white with ire, |
| He breaks the seal and casts the wax aside, |
| Looks in the brief, sees what the King did write: |
| "Charles commands, who holds all France by might, |
| I bear in mind his bitter grief and ire; |
| 'Tis of Basan and 's brother Basilye, |
| Whose heads I took on th' hill by Haltilye. |
| If I would save my body now alive, |
| I must despatch my uncle the alcalyph, |
| Charles will not love me ever otherwise." |
| After, there speaks his son to Marsilye, |
| Says to the King: "In madness spoke this wight. |
| So wrong he was, to spare him were not right; |
| Leave him to me, I will that wrong requite." |
| When Guenes hears, he draws his sword outright, |
| Against the trunk he stands, beneath that pine. |
| XXXVIII |
| The King is gone into that orchard then; |
| With him he takes the best among his men; |
| And Blancandrins there shews his snowy hair, |
| And Jursalet, was the King's son and heir, |
| And the alcaliph, his uncle and his friend. |
| Says Blancandrins: "Summon the Frank again, |
| In our service his faith to me he's pledged." |
| Then says the King: "So let him now be fetched." |
| He's taken Guenes by his right finger-ends, |
| And through the orchard straight to the King they wend. |
| Of treason there make lawless parliament. |
| AOI. |
| XXXIX |
| "Fair Master Guenes," says then King Marsilie, |
| "I did you now a little trickery, |
| Making to strike, I shewed my great fury. |
| These sable skins take as amends from me, |
| Five hundred pounds would not their worth redeem. |
| To-morrow night the gift shall ready be." |
| Guene answers him: "I'll not refuse it, me. |
| May God be pleased to shew you His mercy." |
| AOI. |
| XL |
| Then says Marsile "Guenes, the truth to ken, |
| Minded I am to love you very well. |
| Of Charlemagne I wish to hear you tell, |
| He's very old, his time is nearly spent, |
| Two hundred years he's lived now, as 'tis said. |
| Through many lands his armies he has led, |
| So many blows his buckled shield has shed, |
| And so rich kings he's brought to beg their bread; |
| What time from war will he draw back instead?" |
| And answers Guenes: "Not so was Charles bred. |
| There is no man that sees and knows him well |
| But will proclaim the Emperour's hardihead. |
| Praise him as best I may, when all is said, |
| Remain untold, honour and goodness yet. |
| His great valour how can it be counted? |
| Him with such grace hath God illumined, |
| Better to die than leave his banneret." |
| XLI |
| The pagan says: "You make me marvel sore |
| At Charlemagne, who is so old and hoar; |
| Two hundred years, they say, he's lived and more. |
| So many lands he's led his armies o'er, |
| So many blows from spears and lances borne, |
| And so rich kings brought down to beg and sorn, |
| When will time come that he draws back from war?" |
| "Never," says Guenes, "so long as lives his nephew; |
| No such vassal goes neath the dome of heaven; |
| And proof also is Oliver his henchman; |
| The dozen peers, whom Charl'es holds so precious, |
| These are his guards, with other thousands twenty. |
| Charles is secure, he holds no man in terror." |
| AOI. |
| XLII |
| Says Sarrazin: "My wonder yet is grand |
| At Charlemagne, who hoary is and blanched. |
| Two hundred years and more, I understand, |
| He has gone forth and conquered many a land, |
| Such blows hath borne from many a trenchant lance, |
| Vanquished and slain of kings so rich a band, |
| When will time come that he from war draws back?" |
| "Never," says Guene, "so long as lives Rollanz, |
| From hence to the East there is no such vassal; |
| And proof also, Oliver his comrade; |
| The dozen peers he cherishes at hand, |
| These are his guard, with twenty thousand Franks. |
| Charles is secure, he fears no living man." |
| AOI. |
| XLIII |
| "Fair Master Guenes," says Marsilies the King, |
| "Such men are mine, fairer than tongue can sing, |
| Of knights I can four hundred thousand bring |
| So I may fight with Franks and with their King." |
| Answers him Guenes: "Not on this journeying |
| Save of pagans a great loss suffering. |
| Leave you the fools, wise counsel following; |
| To the Emperour such wealth of treasure give |
| That every Frank at once is marvelling. |
| For twenty men that you shall now send in |
| To France the Douce he will repair, that King; |
| In the rereward will follow after him |
| Both his nephew, count Rollant, as I think, |
| And Oliver, that courteous paladin; |
| Dead are the counts, believe me if you will. |
| Charles will behold his great pride perishing, |
| For battle then he'll have no more the skill. |
| AOI. |
| XLIV |
| Fair Master Guene," says then King Marsilie, |
| "Shew the device, how Rollant slain may be." |
| Answers him Guenes: "That will I soon make clear |
| The King will cross by the good pass of Size, |
| A guard he'll set behind him, in the rear; |
| His nephew there, count Rollant, that rich peer, |
| And Oliver, in whom he well believes; |
| Twenty thousand Franks in their company |
| Five score thousand pagans upon them lead, |
| Franks unawares in battle you shall meet, |
| Bruised and bled white the race of Franks shall be; |
| I do not say, but yours shall also bleed. |
| Battle again deliver, and with speed. |
| So, first or last, from Rollant you'll be freed. |
| You will have wrought a high chivalrous deed, |
| Nor all your life know war again, but peace. |
| AOI. |
| XLV |
| "Could one achieve that Rollant's life was lost, |
| Charle's right arm were from his body torn; |
| Though there remained his marvellous great host, |
| He'ld not again assemble in such force; |
| Terra Major would languish in repose." |
| Marsile has heard, he's kissed him on the throat; |
| Next he begins to undo his treasure-store. |
| AOI. |
| XLVI |
| Said Marsilie—but now what more said they?— |
| "No faith in words by oath unbound I lay; |
| Swear me the death of Rollant on that day." |
| Then answered Guene: "So be it, as you say." |
| On the relics, are in his sword Murgles, |
| Treason he's sworn, forsworn his faith away. |
| AOI. |
| XLVII |
| Was a fald-stool there, made of olifant. |
| A book thereon Marsilies bade them plant, |
| In it their laws, Mahum's and Tervagant's. |
| He's sworn thereby, the Spanish Sarazand, |
| In the rereward if he shall find Rollant, |
| Battle to himself and all his band, |
| And verily he'll slay him if he can. |
| And answered Guenes: "So be it, as you command!" |
| AOI. |
| XLVIII |
| In haste there came a pagan Valdabrun, |
| Warden had been to King Marsiliun, |
| Smiling and clear, he's said to Guenelun, |
| "Take now this sword, and better sword has none; |
| Into the hilt a thousand coins are run. |
| To you, fair sir, I offer it in love; |
| Give us your aid from Rollant the barun, |
| That in rereward against him we may come." |
| Guenes the count answers: "It shall-be done." |
| Then, cheek and chin, kissed each the other one. |
| XLIX |
| After there came a pagan, Climorins, |
| Smiling and clear to Guenelun begins: |
| "Take now my helm, better is none than this; |
| But give us aid, on Rollant the marquis, |
| By what device we may dishonour bring." |
| "It shall be done." Count Guenes answered him; |
| On mouth and cheek then each the other kissed. |
| AOI. |
| L |
| In haste there came the Queen forth, Bramimound; |
| "I love you well, sir," said she to the count, |
| "For prize you dear my lord and all around; |
| Here for your wife I have two brooches found, |
| Amethysts and jacynths in golden mount; |
| More worth are they than all the wealth of Roum; |
| Your Emperour has none such, I'll be bound." |
| He's taken them, and in his hosen pouched. |
| AOI. |
| LI |
| The King now calls Malduiz, that guards his treasure. |
| "Tribute for Charles, say, is it now made ready?" |
| He answers him: "Ay, Sire, for here is plenty |
| Silver and gold on hundred camels seven, |
| And twenty men, the gentlest under heaven." |
| AOI. |
| LII |
| Marsilie's arm Guene's shoulder doth enfold; |
| He's said to him: "You are both wise and bold. |
| Now, by the law that you most sacred hold, |
| Let not your heart in our behalf grow cold! |
| Out of my store I'll give you wealth untold, |
| Charging ten mules with fine Arabian gold; |
| I'll do the same for you, new year and old. |
| Take then the keys of this city so large, |
| This great tribute present you first to Charles, |
| Then get me placed Rollanz in the rereward. |
| If him I find in valley or in pass, |
| Battle I'll give him that shall be the last." |
| Answers him Guenes: "My time is nearly past." |
| His charger mounts, and on his journey starts. |
| AOI. |
