ROLAND AND OLIVER
"Montjoie! Whoever heard that cry
Would hold remembrance of chivalry."
In days of old there lived a powerful Christian emperor by the name of Charlemagne. His kingdom extended over the greater part of the territory which now constitutes the countries of France, Germany, and Italy; and the "Franks," as his people were called, followed him with a loving loyalty that has been celebrated in song and story for twelve hundred years. Around Charlemagne were gathered not a few knights whose names will forever be remembered with that of their emperor, and whose deeds will live as long as the chivalric instinct thrills the breast of man.
Now this great emperor, though loving and generous toward his subjects, could yet brook no shadow of opposition; and when he discovered that his beloved sister Bertha had, without his consent, wedded the knight, Milon, he at once banished the disobedient pair from the land of France.
Fleeing before the awful displeasure of Charlemagne, Milon and his wife wandered about in foreign parts as mendicants, and at length took refuge in a cave near a small town in Italy. Here, under these adverse circumstances, a little son was born to them—one destined to be the hero of two countries, the "Roland" of "the French Iliad" and the "Orlando" of Italian song and story.
While Roland was yet a little lad, his father departed for unknown lands to seek fame and fortune, leaving the boy and his mother to eke out a scanty existence as best they might.
As Roland grew in years and in youthful graces, he became a favorite with the peasant boys of the village, and, in spite of his ragged clothes and his humble abode, was soon made their leader. But there was one lad in Sutri who had no love for the stalwart young mendicant. Oliver, son of the governor of the town, and consequently a youth of high station, conceived quite a dislike for him, and a feud existed between the two until it was ended by Roland in a most singular way.
Meeting the son of the governor on neutral ground one day, the fiery young cave-dweller proposed that they settle their quarrel with their fists. Oliver, being in no whit a coward, quickly consented. The contest which ensued was a long and stubborn one, for the two lads were very nearly equally matched in strength and endurance and courage. Finally, however, the half-clad, disowned nephew of Charlemagne stood triumphant. The quarrel was indeed settled; for Oliver, being a lad of mettle, and loving and admiring valor wherever he found it, arose from his honorable defeat the sworn friend and admirer of his doughty conqueror.