Council of Charlemagne at Cordoba, VIII–XVI

Cheerful and blithe the Emp'ror, for Cordres Has been subdued, its massy walls o'erthrown, Its towers by mighty catapults destroyed; And there his knights have found abundant spoils Of gold and silver, and rich garnitures. Nor was one Pagan in the city left Alive, who did not own the Christian Faith. Now is the Emperor within a wide And spreading orchard; there around him stand Rolland and Olivier, Samsun the Duke, And Anseis the bold, Gefrei d'Anjou, Gonfaloneer of Carle, and also there Gerin and Gerier. Where these were, came Of others many more. In all, from France Were gathered fully fifteen thousand knights. Upon white pallies sit these chevaliers; They play at tables to divert themselves; The wiser and the elder play at chess. In mimic sword-play strive the joyous youths. Under a pine-tree, near an eglantine, Is placed a faldstool of pure gold whereon Sits he, the King—great Ruler of Sweet France. White is his beard, his head all flowering white; Graceful his form and proud his countenance; None need to point him out to those who come The Pagan messengers, dismounting, stood Before him, proffering humble faith and love. Aoi.

Blancandrin was the first to speak, and said Unto the king:—"Hail! in the name of God, The Glorious One we must adore! To you I bring this message from Marsile the brave: Well has he studied your Salvation's Law; And would upon you lavish his great wealth. Bears—lions—packs of hounds enchained he gives, Seven hundred camels also—fifty score Of molted falcons—mules, four hundred, packed With gold and silver—fifty carts to carry These gifts, and bezants of the purest gold He also sends, which will your soldiers pay. Too long within our land you have remained; To France—to Aix he wills you straight return. There will he follow you: so says my lord." To God the Emperor uplifts his hands; Bends low his head and counsel takes in thought. Aoi.

The Emperor sat silent with drooped head. Ne'er rash in words, he never speaks in haste. At last he rose. Proudly he looked and spake Unto the messengers:—"Ye have well said That King Marsile e'er stood my greatest foe! On these fair-seeming words how far can I Rely?" The crafty Saracen replied: "Would you have hostages? you shall have ten, Fifteen, yea, twenty. Though his fate be death My son shall go, and others nobler still, I deem. When to your lordly palace, home Returned—when comes Saint Michael del Peril, His feast, my Lord will follow to those springs, He says, brought forth by God for you, and there Baptized, a faithful Christian will become!" Carl'magne makes answer:—"He may yet be saved!" Aoi.

The eve was soft and fair, the sunset bright; The ten mules stabled by the King's command; In the great orchard a pavilion raised To house the messengers, his Pagan guests. Twelve sergeants to their service were assigned, And there they rested till the dawn repelled The night. With day the Emperor arose; Heard mass and matins first, then having gone Beneath a stately pine, he summons all His wisest barons, council grave to hold, Thus ever guided by the men of France. Aoi.

Beneath a pine the Monarch has repaired; His barons to the council called: the Duke Ogier—Archbishop Turpin—old Richard, Also his nephew Henri, and the brave Count Acelin of Gascuigne—Tedbald De Reins—his cousin Milon—Gerier, Gerin, together with the Count Rolland, And Olivier, the brave and noble knight. One thousand Franks of France and more were met— Then Ganelon came, who treason wrought; and now Was opened that ill-fated council thus: Aoi.

"Seigneurs Barons," began the Emp'ror Carle, "The King Marsile his messengers hath sent To offer me large store of his great wealth; Bears—lions—hounds in leash;—of camels he Gives seven hundred—falcons, fifty score— Four hundred mules packed high with Arab gold, And more than fifty chariots loaded full; But he demands that I return to France. There will he follow: then arrived at Aix, Will in my palace take Salvation's Faith, Will Christ obey, and hold his lands from me; But what is in his heart, I do not know." The French exclaim:—"Of him we must beware!" Aoi.

The Emp'ror ended thus. But Count Rolland Approving not the terms, stands forth and speaks Unto the King with arguments adverse: "Trust never more Marsile. 'Tis full seven years Since we came into Spain. For you I took Both Noples and Commibles; gained Valterne And all the land of Pine, and Balaguer, And Tuele and Sebile—yet King Marsile Still plotting treachery, sent from his horde Of Pagans, fifteen men; each bore in hand Like these, a branch of olive-tree, and spake The self-same words. On that you counsel took From your too lightly flattering French; two Counts Of yours you to the Pagan sent, the one, Bazan, Bastile the other, and their heads He struck off near Haltoie. As you began, War on! To Sarraguce your army lead, Besiege her walls, though all your life it take, And thus avenge the knights the felon slew." Aoi.

At this the Emperor, bending low his head, Twists his mustache and plucks his hoary beard, Answering his nephew neither yea nor nay. The Franks keep silence—all save Ganelon Who rose and stood before the King, and spake Bold words and haughty:—"Put not faith in fools, Nor me nor others; follow your own rede! Since King Marsile makes offer to become Your man, with hands joined; furthermore will hold Spain as a fief from you; yea, will receive Our law as his law, he who counsel gives Such proffer to reject, cares not a whit What death we die. No counsel take of pride; Let pass the fools and listen to the wise." Aoi.

And now Duke Naimes arose: his beard and hair As white as drifted snow. In all the court No better vassal stood; and to the King: "Have you marked well the words Count Ganelon In answer spoke but now? His plan is wise; Follow it then. This King Marsile in war Is overcome, his strongholds all pulled down; By warlike engines are his walls destroyed, His cities burned, his men subdued;—when now He for your mercy prays, foul sin it were To press him harder. Since he, furthermore Will bind his word by gift of hostages, [One of your barons also send to him.] In truth no longer this great war should rage." The French all cry:—"Duke Naimes has spoken well." Aoi.