第12章
Blest Paradise to you now open stands, By the Innocents your thrones you there shall have."Upon these words grow bold again the Franks;There is not one but he "Monjoie" demands.
AOI.
CXIV
A Sarrazin was there, of Sarraguce, Of that city one half was his by use, 'Twas Climborins, a man was nothing proof;By Guenelun the count an oath he took, And kissed his mouth in amity and truth, Gave him his sword and his carbuncle too.
Terra Major, he said, to shame he'ld put, From the Emperour his crown he would remove.
He sate his horse, which he called Barbamusche, Never so swift sparrow nor swallow flew, He spurred him well, and down the reins he threw, Going to strike Engelier of Gascune;Nor shield nor sark him any warrant proved, The pagan spear's point did his body wound, He pinned him well, and all the steel sent through, From the hilt flung him dead beneath his foot.
After he said: "Good are they to confuse.
Pagans, strike on, and so this press set loose!""God!" say the Franks, "Grief, such a man to lose!"AOI.
CXV
The count Rollanz called upon Oliver:
"Sir companion, dead now is Engeler;
Than whom we'd no more valiant chevalier."Answered that count: "God, let me him avenge!"Spurs of fine gold into his horse drove then, Held Halteclere, with blood its steel was red, By virtue great to strike that pagan went, Brandished his blade, the Sarrazin upset;The Adversaries of God his soul bare thence.
Next he has slain the duke Alphaien, And sliced away Escababi his head, And has unhorsed some seven Arabs else;No good for those to go to war again.
Then said Rollanz: "My comrade shews anger, So in my sight he makes me prize him well;More dear by Charles for such blows are we held."Aloud he's cried: "Strike on, the chevaliers!"AOI.
CXVI
From the other part a pagan Valdabron.
Warden he'd been to king Marsilion, And lord, by sea, of four hundred dromonds;No sailor was but called his name upon;
Jerusalem he'd taken by treason, Violated the Temple of Salomon, The Partiarch had slain before the fonts.
He'd pledged his oath by county Guenelon, Gave him his sword, a thousand coins thereon.
He sate his horse, which he called Gramimond, Never so swift flew in the air falcon;He's pricked him well, with sharp spurs he had on, Going to strike e'en that rich Duke, Sanson;His shield has split, his hauberk has undone, The ensign's folds have through his body gone, Dead from the hilt out of his seat he's dropt:
"Pagans, strike on, for well we'll overcome!""God!" say the Franks, "Grief for a brave baron!"AOI.
CXVII
The count Rollanz, when Sansun dead he saw, You may believe, great grief he had therefor.
His horse he spurs, gallops with great effort, Wields Durendal, was worth fine gold and more, Goes as he may to strike that baron bold Above the helm, that was embossed with gold, Slices the head, the sark, and all the corse, The good saddle, that was embossed with gold, And cuts deep through the backbone of his horse;He's slain them both, blame him for that or laud.
The pagans say: "'Twas hard on us, that blow."Answers Rollanz: "Nay, love you I can not, For on your side is arrogance and wrong."AOI.
CXVIII
Out of Affrike an Affrican was come, 'Twas Malquiant, the son of king Malcud;With beaten gold was all his armour done, Fore all men's else it shone beneath the sun.
He sate his horse, which he called Salt-Perdut, Never so swift was any beast could run.
And Anseis upon the shield he struck, The scarlat with the blue he sliced it up, Of his hauberk he's torn the folds and cut, The steel and stock has through his body thrust.
Dead is that count, he's no more time to run.
Then say the Franks: "Baron, an evil luck!"CXIX
Swift through the field Turpin the Archbishop passed;Such shaven-crown has never else sung Mass Who with his limbs such prowess might compass;To th'pagan said "God send thee all that's bad!
One thou hast slain for whom my heart is sad."So his good horse forth at his bidding ran, He's struck him then on his shield Toledan, Until he flings him dead on the green grass.
CXX
From the other part was a pagan Grandones, Son of Capuel, the king of Capadoce.
He sate his horse, the which he called Marmore, Never so swift was any bird in course;He's loosed the reins, and spurring on that horse He's gone to strike Gerin with all his force;The scarlat shield from's neck he's broken off, And all his sark thereafter has he torn, The ensign blue clean through his body's gone, Until he flings him dead, on a high rock;His companion Gerer he's slain also, And Berenger, and Guiun of Santone;Next a rich duke he's gone to strike, Austore, That held Valence and the Honour of the Rhone;He's flung him dead; great joy the pagans shew.
Then say the Franks: "Of ours how many fall."CXXI
The count Rollanz, his sword with blood is stained, Well has he heard what way the Franks complained;Such grief he has, his heart would split in twain:
To the pagan says: "God send thee every shame!
One hast thou slain that dearly thou'lt repay."He spurs his horse, that on with speed doth strain;Which should forfeit, they both together came.
CXXII
Grandonie was both proof and valiant, And virtuous, a vassal combatant.
Upon the way there, he has met Rollant;
He'd never seen, yet knew him at a glance, By the proud face and those fine limbs he had, By his regard, and by his contenance;He could not help but he grew faint thereat, He would escape, nothing avail he can.
Struck him the count, with so great virtue, that To the nose-plate he's all the helmet cracked, Sliced through the nose and mouth and teeth he has, Hauberk close-mailed, and all the whole carcass, Saddle of gold, with plates of silver flanked, And of his horse has deeply scarred the back;He's slain them both, they'll make no more attack:
The Spanish men in sorrow cry, "Alack!"
Then say the Franks: "He strikes well, our warrant."CXXIII
Marvellous is the battle in its speed, The Franks there strike with vigour and with heat, Cutting through wrists and ribs and chines in-deed, Through garments to the lively flesh beneath;On the green grass the clear blood runs in streams.