Prelude to the Great Battle

Olivier from the summit of a hill On his right hand looks o'er a grassy vale, And views the Pagans' onward marching hordes; Then straight he called his faithful friend Rolland: "From Spain a distant rumbling noise I hear, So many hauberks white and flashing helms I see!—This will inflame our French men's hearts. The treason is the work of Ganelon Who named us for this post before the King." "Hush! Olivier!"—the Count Rolland replies, "'Tis my step-father, speak no other word." Aoi.

Count Olivier is posted on a hill From whence Spain's Kingdom he descries, and all The swarming host of Saracens; their helms So bright bedecked with gold, and their great shields, Their 'broidered hauberks, and their waving flags, He cannot count the squadrons; in such crowds They come, his sight reached not unto their end. Then all bewildered he descends the hill, Rejoins the French, and all to them relates. Aoi.

Said Olivier: "I have seen Pagans more Than eyes e'er saw upon the earth; at least One hundred thousand warriors armed with shields, In their white hauberks clad, with helmets laced, Lances in rest, and burnished brazen spears. Battle ye will have, such as ne'er was before. French Lords, may God inspire you with his strength! Stand firm your ground, that we may not succumb." The French say: "Cursed be those who fly the field! Ready to die, not one shall fail you here." Aoi.