Council of Charlemagne at Cordoba, XVII–XXVIII

"Seigneurs Barons, which of you shall we send To meet the King Marsile in Sarraguce?" Duke Naimes responds:—"I, with your leave will go; Give me the glove and staff."—"Nay," quoth King Carle, "A sage you are in council, well I know: By this mustache and by this beard of mine, So far away from me you shall not go. Back to your seat, since none hath summoned you." Aoi.

"Seigneurs Barons, which of you shall we send As messengers to Sarraguce where rules Marsile?"—Rolland responds:—"Behold me here!" "—You shall not, by my troth!" cries Olivier, "Your pride too fierce, and courage far too hot; I fear some misadventure from your zeal. Should our King grant me but his leave, 'tis I Will go!"—The King exclaimed:—"Be silent both— Nor you, nor he, shall yonder set your foot! Ay, by this hoary beard of mine, I swear, Not one of my twelve Peers shall thither go." The French are dumb—-all silenced by these words. Aoi.

Turpin de Reins arises from the ranks And to the King he says: "Let your Franks stay, To this land seven years ago you came, And they have suffered much of toil and pain. Give me the glove and staff, and I will go And speak my mind to that proud Saracen." With anger great the Emperor replies: "Back to your seat on yonder pallie white Nor speak another word, save by command!" Aoi.

Then said the Emperor:—"Chevaliers of France, Choose ye for me a baron of my realm, One who can bear my words to King Marsile!" Rolland rejoins:—"Let my step-father go; If he remain, no wiser man is found." The French say:—-"Well can he fulfill the task: [If the King wills, 'tis right he should be sent."] Aoi.

Thus spoke the King:—"Sire Ganelon, draw near: Receive the glove and staff—you heard the Franks Pass judgment, and on you their choice has fallen." Said Ganelon:—"All this Rolland has done! My life-long, never will I love him more, Nor Olivier, his comrade and his friend, Nor the twelve Peers, for that they love him well. Here in your presence, I defy them all!" The King replied:—"Too wroth you are. At once You shall depart.—I spoke it."—"Sire, I go, Although for me there is nor shield nor guard: Basile had none, Bazan, his brother, none! Aoi.

"To Sarraguce I go, and know full well Who thither goes, may ne'er return. Nay more, Your sister is my wife, and I by her Have one fair son, Baldewin, the goodliest child Who [if he live] will be a noble knight. To him I leave my fiefs and honors: guard Him well, for him these eyes no more shall see." Carle answers:—"Much too tender is your heart; Since I command, your duty 'tis to go." Aoi.

Count Ganelon, at this, rose full of wrath, And, casting from his neck his zibelline Of fur, stood forth, clothed in his silk blialt. Gray were his eyes and very fierce his face; Graceful his form—his breast, of mighty mold. So fair was he, all eyes upon him rest. "Rolland," he said, "wherefore this foolish wrath? Since thy step-father, 'tis well known, I am, For this thou choosest me to seek Marsile! 'Tis well. If God but grant me safe return, I such ill fortune hurl on thee, shall smite Thy life from now and ever with a curse." Rolland replies:—"Mad words and proud I hear. All know it well, I care for no man's threat; But since a wise man must this message bear, If the King wills it, in your place I go." Aoi.

"Thou shalt not take my place," said Ganelon; "My vassal art thou not, nor yet am I Thy lord; and since the King hath given me Command this service I should take, I shall Go to Marsile. But once in Sarraguce Will I with fuel feed my heart's fierce ire." Rolland, on hearing this, began to laugh. Aoi.

When Ganelon saw the laughter of Rolland, It seemed as though his breast would burst with wrath; His brain was well-nigh maddened by his rage. Unto the Count he cried:—"I love you not; This judgment have you caused on me to fall! Right Emp'ror, in your presence, lo! I stand, And I am ready to fulfill your word." Aoi.

The King presents to him his right hand glove; But Ganelon would well have ne'er stood there, For ere he touched the royal glove, it fell. The French exclaim:—"What bodes this omen? Shall This embassy not have a woeful end?—" "Seigneurs," said Ganelon, "you will hear of this!" Aoi.

Said Ganelon:—"Give me dismissal, Sire! Since I must go, my time is precious." Then Adjured the King:—"For Jesus' sake and mine!" With his right hand he Ganelon absolved And blessed, deliv'ring up the brief and staff. Aoi.

Count Ganelon his own house seeks, to make Equipment and prepare his arms: his choice The best that he can find. With golden spurs He clasps his heels; belts to his side his sword, Murgleis, and mounts his courser Tachebrun. His uncle Guinemer the stirrup held; There many a chevalier you might have seen In tears, who said: "Baron, such evil fate Was yours. You, in the King's Court so long, and there Revered as liege-man high!—The man who judged That you should go, not Carle himself shall cure Or save; the Count Rolland bethought him not Of that high lineage whence you sprang!"—And they Entreat:—"My lord with you take us along!" But Ganelon replies:—"Lord God forbid! Better to die alone than with me fall So many brave!—Lords, to sweet France ye will go. Salute for me my wife, and Pinabel, My friend and peer, and my son Baldewin whom Ye all know—guard him—hold him for your lord." The Count departs and goes upon his way. Aoi.