Carle our most noble Emperor and King, Hath tarried now full seven years in Spain, Conqu'ring the highland regions to the sea; No fortress stands before him unsubdued, Nor wall, nor city left, to be destroyed, Save Sarraguce, high on a mountain set. There rules the King Marsile who loves not God, Apollo worships and Mohammed serves; Nor can he from his evil doom escape. Aoi.
[II.]
The King Marsile abides in Sarraguce Where underneath an orchard's leafy shade, Upon a terrace with blue marble paved He rests. Around him twenty thousand men And more are ranked. His Dukes and Counts he calls: "Oyez, Seigneurs, what gath'ring ills are ours: Great Carle, the Emperor who rules Sweet France Comes to this land to 'whelm us with his might. To give him battle I no army have, Nor people to array against his host: Your counsel give me, Lords, as my wise men, And so defend your King from death and shame;" But answer none a single Pagan gave, Save Blancandrin del Castel Val-Fondé. Aoi.
[III.]
Blancandrin, 'midst the wisest Pagans wise, Who, in his vassalage a valiant knight, Most prudent counsels gave to help his lord, Said to the King:—"Be not by this dismayed! To Carle the proud, the fierce, send messengers With words of faith and love. Send to him gifts Of bears and lions, packs of dogs; present Seven hundred camels also, fifty score Of molted[1] falcons, and four hundred mules With heavy weight of gold and silver packed; Then fifty chariots with their burthens heaped: Well can this treasure all his soldiers pay. Within this land he long enough has camped. To France—to Aix let him at last return; There will you join him on Saint-Michael's feast, Accept the Christian law, and swear to be His man in faith and honor. Should he ask Hostages, ten or twenty grant, to lure His trust; let us send our wives' sons. Mine—although He die, I give. Far better that their heads Should fall than we lose honor and domain, Than we ourselves to beggary be brought." Aoi.
[IV.]
He further said:—"By this right hand of mine, And by the beard the air waves on my breast, Soon shall you see the host of Franks disperse; To France, their land, the Franks will take their way. When each has gained the shelter of his home, King Carle will in his chapel be at Aix, To celebrate Saint Michael's solemn feast. The day will come, the term allowed will pass, And from us shall he hear nor word nor news. The King is fierce, his soul is hard; and thus Each hostage head beneath his sword shall fall. 'Twere better far that these should lose their heads Than we for aye lose glorious Spain the Fair, And suffer so great ills and doleful woes." Then say the Pagans:—"This may be the truth." Aoi.
[V.]
Hereat the King Marsile the council closed. Then summon'd he Clarin de Balaguer, Estramarin and Eudropin his peer; With Priamon Guarlan the bearded knight, And Machiner together with Mahen His uncle, Joïmer and Malbien born Beyond the sea, and Blancandrin, to hear His words. These ten, the fiercest, he addressed: "Seigneurs Barons, ye shall go toward Carl'magne; He to Cordrès, the city, now lays siege. Bear in each hand a branch of olive-tree In token of humility and peace. If by your arts his favor you can gain, I give of gold and silver, lands and fiefs To each, whatever he may ask of me." The Pagans answer all:—"[Well said our lord!">[ Aoi.