"The Emperor Carle," said King Marsile, "has slain My men, ravaged my land, shattered and stormed My cities; now on Ebro's banks he camps, But seven counted leagues away. Bid ye The Emir march up all his force. Bear him My order for the fight." With this he gives Into their hands the keys of Sarraguce. Upon these words the messengers bent low In last salute, took leave, and went their way. Aoi.
[CCI.]
The messengers upon their horses mount And gallop from the city in hot haste. With terror struck, both to the Emir come, Deliv'ring up the keys of Sarraguce. Said Baligant:—"What found ye there? Where is The King Marsile whom I commanded forth?" Clarien makes answer:—"He is hurt to death; The Emp'ror yesterday marched through the pass Upon his homeward way into sweet France. For greater honor, in the rear, Rollánd, His nephew, had a post with Olivier, All the twelve Peers and twenty thousand knights. The King Marsile, the valiant Baron, fought And fierce encounter had with Count Rollánd, Who dealt with Durendal so dire a blow, The king's right hand was severed from his arm. Slain was the son he loved so tenderly, With all the Barons he had brought with him; Unable to resist, he took to flight, And Carle, the Emperor, followed close behind. Now give your help to King Marsile, who craves Your aid, and as your guerdon all the realm Of Spain receive." But Baligant remains Deep sunk in thought, nigh maddened by his grief. Aoi.
[CCII.]
"Sire Emir," Clarien said, "on yesterday A battle raged in Ronceval; Rollánd And Olivier are dead, and the twelve Peers To Carle so dear, with twenty thousand Franks Have perished; King Marsile lost his right hand, And fled in hottest speed pursued by Carle. In all the land no Knight remains but slain Or in the waters of the Ebro drowned. Upon its banks the French encamp—So nigh— Had you the will, unsafe would be their flight." Then Baligant looks at him full of pride; And his heart swells with courage and fierce joy. Sudden from his footstool he springs, and loud He cries:—"Delay not—disembark! To horse! And forward! Now, unless Carlemagne the old By flight escape, the King Marsile shall be Avenged. For his right hand Carle's head shall pay." Aoi.
[CCIII.]
Out of their skiffs the Arab Pagans spring, And mounting mules and horses, march; what else But this for them to do? When forward moves The host in serried lines, the Emir calls On Genalfin, his chosen friend: "To thee Command of all my armies I confide."— He said—and straight on his bay destrier mounts; Four Dukes rode with him, and so fast he sped, Ere long they entered into Sarraguce. Before a marble terrace he dismounts, Four Counts his stirrup held, and by the steps Which led up to the palace he ascends. To him runs Bramimunde:—"What cruel dole Is mine, oh, woe! How shamefully," she cried, "Have I now lost my lord!"—And at his feet Prostrate she fell. The Emir raised her up, And, grieving, both into the chamber went. Aoi.
[CCIV.]
The King Marsile, on seeing Baligant, Summoned two Spanish Saracens, and bade His body to be raised that he might sit. With his left hand he took a glove, and thus He spoke:—"Sir King and Emir, all my lands And kingdoms, Sarraguce, domains and fiefs But wreck and ruin—Subjects, wealth—all lost." Answered the Emir:—"I, so much the more, Grieve for thy sorrow; but for longer speech I can not stay; for Carle, I know, will not Be still. But, nathless, I receive the glove." O'erwhelmed with sorrow, weeping he departs; The palace steps descending, mounts his horse And spurs him towards the waiting hosts so fast, That of the foremost ranks he takes the lead; And cries aloud, going from man to man: "Haste, Pagans! On!—Already flee the Franks." Aoi.