A!t«^/1o^ 3innT\'H '-'■msmt Jfo-' anAgm to-,,'. f USE RULES. ;}flH Bogki (ubjeot to Rwijl. '"•' All books must be returned at end of col- legp year fqr insgfec- tion smd repairs. Students must re-^, turn allJbiookS before iJiiayfetg town. Officers, slipuld arrange 'for^ s the rfeturn of books •w^ted- during their absence from town. Books needed by more than one person are held on the reserve 'list. Volumes of periodi- j - cals and of pamphlets' ^ are held in the library as much as possible. For special . purposes they are given out for a limited time. , Borrowers should not use their library privileges for the bene- fit of other persons. Books of special value and gift books, when the giver wishes it, are noj allowed to circulate. Readers are asked to report all cases of books marked or muti- lated. Do not deface book* by niarka and writing. Cornell University Library PR5249.R41D2 ' The death of Roland; an epic poem. 3 1924 013 541 515 4A. o^ / i ROWBOTHAM'S POETICAL ROMANCES. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924013541515 RpWBOTHAM'S SERIES OF POETICAL ROMANCES. No. I. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. THE DEATH OF ROLAND AN EPIC POEM. BV. JOHN FREDERICK ROWBOTHAM. AUTHOR OF " THE HISTORY OF MUSIC. LONDON : TRUBNER & Co., LUDGATE HILL. 1887. / 'a /VXC^ \^o PREFACE. At the instance of a few friends who have done me the honour to read this poem before pubhcation, 1 have been induced to make one or two remarks about the metre, since it is a new metre wliich has never before been employed in the English language. It is an Octometer Catalectic, unrhyraed, with all its places free except the two last. The admissible feet in the first six places are the Dactyl, Spondee, Trochee, Iambus, Amphibrach, Anapaest, Pseon — with Anacrusis or Double Anacrusis at pleasure. The seventh place is by preference a Trochee, sometimes and rarely a Dactyl. The last is a long syllable. If rhyme be ever employed, it is to be regarded as an adventitious decoration, and by no means an optional form of the measure. Various aims have been present to the writer in devising such a form of verse, of little interest, he surmises, to any one beyond himself. He may recite, however, a few of the reasons which necessarily led him to constituting the measure as above. The ease of the Epic verse of antiquity has always struck him as a beauty unexistent in modern poetry. Since this ease is mainly due to the option of feet, he has constituted the verse with optional feet. Since the repose of that same ancient verse is chiefly ascribable to the fixity of its close, he has constituted a fixed close in like manner. Knowing that musical development proceeds by doubling, he has doubled the four-foot ballad measure to obtain a new verse ; as doubtless the four-foot ballad measure was in its turn Csedmon's two-foot rhythm doubled. Knowing that an odd number of feet was antagonistic to musical effect, he rejected, out of possible forms that presented themselves for Epic verse, the seven-foot ballad measure and the blank verse of five feet. The description of a line containing an odd number of feet, as unmusical, is due to Aristotle. The explanation of the fact was not given by that writer, but may be here set down : Musical rhythm relies for its existence on equality of phrasing. Music in its normal progression proceeds by pairs of phrases, each phrase consisting of a certain number of bars or feet which are exactly reiterated by its companion phrase, and the two tdgether constituting the musical sentence. Hence it will be plain that even-footed verses admit this equality of phrasing, but odd-footed ones do not, whose rhythm may be a literary rhythm p erhaps, but not a musical one. The author has not followed the lead of those, who in excusable admiration of the Greek Hexameter have imported that verse bodily into English poetry, seeking to found a great and abiding measure thereby. The attempt, if he may be bold to say so, savours of boyishness — for what success could attend the introduction into one tongue of a line, whose feet and form had grown out of the words and materials of another .' Besides this, there had been a something completely overlooked — a thing which not infrequently occurs in mechanical imitation. The rhythm of the Hexameter was constituted agreeably to the phrasings of Greek music, which normally ran in pairs of phrases of three bars or feet apiece. A line of six feet was therefore the exact representative of the common musical sentence in Greek music, but in the dominion of modern music is archaic and unnatural, since no such phrasing as three bars in pairs is in fashion to-day, or has been for many centuries back. On the contrary, the considerations which invalidate the Hexameter, most strongly recommend the Octometer. Modern music normally proceeds in pairs of phrases of /our bars or feet each, and the Octometer is therefore the same perfect representative of the common musical sentence of to-day, as was the Hexameter in the days of antiquity. In stating the case thus of the rhythm of modern music, the author believes he has laid his finger on a great principle of the present art, hitherto unnoticed, though for ever acted on. That succinct statement may not lead to misapprehension, and for those who may wish to test the truth of the remark, he might make it practically applicable by substituting the term ' musical foot ' for ' bar,' or by hmiting the term 'bar' to the simple bars of j, | and | time, whether found as factors of their numerous compound bars, or, less frequently, by themselves. A Note on the Recitation of Epic Poetry. Epic Poetry admits not nor does it desire the mouthing rhetoric of the stage. Its recitation is rather that of a monotonous chant, which should not be varied either in pitch or in pace without valid reason in the matter of the passage. Here and there at proper places the voice should rise to marked musical inflection, and decorate the chant with a fragment of spontaneous melody, or occasionally even with an extended melody, reaching to thrse or four, or sometimes to seven or eight lines, or, finally, to long and continuous passages. What these proper places are, must ever remain a question between the reciter and his own good taste. Refrains, however, may be indicated, among numerous others, as very natural places for its employment, though not necessarily all refrains ; while passages of passion may be forefended against it, and likewise those of homely utterance, where the arts of elocutionary declamation and the tones of familiar speech respectively WiH have their occasional utility to diversify the recital. The accompaniment of a musical instrument is at the option of the declaimer. CONTENTS. CANTO I. CANTO II. CANTO III. CANTO IV. CANTO. V. CANTO VI. CANTO VII. CANTO VIII. CANTO IX. CANTO X. CANTO XI. CANTO XII. CANTO XIII, CANTO XIV. CANTO XV. CANTO XVI. CANTO XVII. CANTO XVIII CANTO XIX. CANTO XX. Page i. Page 7. Page 12. Page 19. Page 26. Page 37. Page 49. Page 59. Page 67. Page 76. Page 85. Page 92. Page 98. Page 106. Page 116. Page 129. Page 146. Page 154. Page 162. Page 168. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. CANTO I. The glory of Roland, the peerless Paladin, and the great rout at Roncesvailes. Sad was the city of Saragossa, and fearful the faces about the street. Woe, woe to the rose of Arabia ! woe to the glories of Saracen Spain ! In his porphyry palace the caliph strode the floor with hasty strides. And mused or muttered his sad forebodings of ruin and wreck of empery. His courtiers and captains, a flock of timorous sheep, were standing in silence round. Suddenly ceasing his sombre soliloquies round to the trembling troop he turned : " Dumb deceivers, mumbling ministers, see ye the sorrows that sadden Spain ? And yet ye can no crumb of counsel, nor even common comfort give. All is lost save Saragossa, and the confident conqueror Threatens thunder and destruction if we dare defy his arms ; Talks of slavery and submission, oaths of fealty, and worse — Recreancy to creed and Koran ! — These are the prizes you promised me. This is the point of your politic planning, and comes of confiding on counsellors. I, crowned caliph, made a monarch by Mahomet's mandat'ry. Must become a villain's vassal, bow my neck and bend my knee ; Nay, my faith I must for ever forfeit, and my creed abjure. Make a mockery of Mahomet, kiss the cross and cringe to Christ." Thus the caliph chafed, and the cackling courtiers addressed them to reply. And first stood forth Falsaron the fearless, and baring and bending his brawny arm, " Sire," he said " a truce to your terrors, if I may defy in single fray Charlemagne's bravest, the flower of his forces, or even his peerless Paladins twelve. One by one the gallants shall graciously dare the battle and bite the dust. Little by little the broad battalions will melt like a mist on a midsummer morn." But sinister smiles came coursing fitfully over the caliph's face, who said, " Yet in the fight of Fontinella when Roland rose you ran." And next Stepped forward Ben Nathan, a learned Valencian, known for his necromantic lore, And " Sire," he said, " a truce to your terrors, if I may spread a power of spells. I know a notable charm to shatter the lance in the warrior's grasp. I know A secret for shivering swords, a cabala famed for changing steel to lead. So that the breastplate flaps like linen, the buckler bends and greaves give way. These if I may — " But smiles came fitfully coursing over the caliph's face. And he said, " I saw at Fontinella that lances were shivered and bucklers bent. But these alas ! were mine." Now hitherto one of these cackling councillors Had held his peace and marked the others as if in an idle reverie. Blancandrin he. His face was swarthy ; his eyes were small ; and his lips were thin. At last he spoke, " A truce to your terrors, my liege, if I may audience have. Neither a strong right arm have I, nor a bushel of necromant quackeries. The simple saws of sound advice are my only store for a counsellor. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And this is my counsel, sire. 'Tis folly to face the fiery foe in fight. 'Tis weak and wicked to bow before him, and take like a timid tool his terms. But to pretend — pretence is politic. Feigning is fair where fortune fails. Might may best be met by measuring lances with lies, and greaves with guile. Feign submission, offer fealty, even consent to curse your creed ; Blind the dotard's eyes with blandishments, wheedle him wilily out of Spain. Then, when the land is void of the vermin, away to the winds with your fealty ! Fence the frontiers, bar the passes, and levy the thousands of Araby. He will have gone, but back to come will baffle his majesty mightily." These were the wily words that carried the day* and the doubting counsellors Doubted no longer, the caliph consented, and ere the evening was drawing in Sixty caparisoned mules went jingling bells of silver and bits of steel. Laden with loads luxurious, tapestries, curious carpets, and brave brocades, Spices and camphor, saffron and ambergris, bound for the camp of Charlemagne. Before them a palfrey ambled, and on it, apparelled in purple, Blancandrin. Hot was the day and sultry the season, and under the shade of the spreading palm Charlemagne sat in the orchards of Cordova, he and his Paladins twelve. And some Dandled their helmets and talked of arms, and others at chess beguiled the day. And the sun beat down on the roof of clustering branches, and chequered the lawn with light. He himself apart from the others in sober meditation sat. Resting his chin on a staff of ebony, poring in reverie on the ground. But who is the Paladin moving so martially down the dim avenue, like a king, His casque in his hand, and the tall plume terribly nodding ; his golden hair, uncased, Curling and falling in forests and glittering fitfully under the straggling light? This is Roland, the peerless Paladin, he who fought at Absharon, He who vanquished the hordes of Hametby the might of his single arm. He whom the Saracens dread as invincible : never a fight has he fought in vain. But now he walks with another valorous knight, and arm in arm they go. And the other is second in beauty and bearing among them all to him alone. This is Oliver, his compagnon : in battle they breast it side by side ; In peace they are lovers, in war twin thunderbolts ; hosts cannot tarry the terrible two. And their swords clank gloomily over the meadow; sheathed they are swords, but unsheathed they are stars. Haute Claire is Oliver's, Durandal is the beautiful blade of Roland called. But who is this Paladin, who as they saunter along the dim meadow has crossed their path, Nor turned to speak, for brooding on somewhat, and haughty and hasty he strides alono-? Lithe is his form as the leopard's, whose dappled and velvety hide is wrapped around His sinewy shoulders. This is Sir Ganelon. Woe to the day when the feud arose 'Twixt him and them ! For Roland defying his hot hostility and menace Had taxed him once with an act of treachery, never met and ne'er disproved. But they who sit at the tables toying with ivory draughts or reclining at length On the sward are Salomon, King of Brittany ; Naimes, the Duke of Bavaria ; Archbishop Turpin of Rheims, a doughtier warrior never had wielded a mace • Lovely Astolpho of England, whose excellent beauty is girlish and soft among The bearded warriors ; Oger the Terrible ; Malagigi j and Florismart • Last not least, Rinaldo, a Paladin known in the lists of Ascalon. So they sat in the shade, and sultrier grew the glow of the afternoon. Till it seemed like a dream this orchard and garden, and they but sleepers slumbering there. CANTO I. Suddenly far in the distance a jingling music of mule-bells floats on the air. " 'Tis some team a-driving to market," Astolpho says, and plays his piece. But nearer and nearer the jingling music floats on the air and fills the grove. Louder and louder it grew incessantly, till at the gates of the orchard itself Whips were cracking, and bells were rattling, and mules were snorting and pawing the ground. And the cries of the drivers were mixed with the hubbub and noise of a crowded cavalcade. Wide swung open the gates of the garden, and under the archway marshalled in line Sixty caparisohed mules a-jingling bells of silver and bits of steel. Laden with loads luxurious, tapestries, curious carpets and brave brocades. Spices and camphor, saffron and ambergris, down the dim avenues wended their way, While behind on his ambling palfrey, apparelled in purple, Blancandrin. He from off' his palfrey springing knelt at the feet of Charlemagne, Grovelling low in the earth before him, and thus he spoke with lying lips : " Lord, and high resistless conqueror, emperor puissant of the world, I, thy slave, am come deputed by another slave of thine To bear these gifts and sue for mercy and deprecate thy awful ire. Yes, the whilom haughty caliph, prouder than whom no monarch e'er Ruled the Saracen, seeks for mercy, and proffers himself thy serf and slave. Thou askest fealty. 'Tis thine. And that more terrible penalty. Abandonment of creed and Koran, he dare not venture to refuse. Baptism in holy water, priests to teach him how to live, — These are the terms, nay, boons that he begs. Conditions he dare not stipulate ; Yet since for twenty years his subjects knew him as Paynim prince supreme, And sudden apostacy, blessed and beautiful though it appear to him and me. Yet to the vulgar, so blind and infatuate, might a different aspect wear. And cost him his crown or his life ; and fealty suddenly given and timidly sworn. Equally ruinous, equally fatal, promises only death and shame ; The grace of a few poor months he craves, that so, as a prudent husbandman, He may prepare and inure his furrows against the coming change of crop. And silently teach the weeds of Mahomet to yield to the milkwhite corn of Christ. In six months' space, most puissant emperor, these are my master's words not mine, A penitent band of bending pilgrims wend them to thy court in France. In the midst will walk the Caliph barefoot, clothed in frock and cowl, Holding in each hand a taper, saying prayers and chanting psalms. There your bishops shall baptise him, there he shall resign to you All his broad domains, receiving them back in tenure of vassalage. Meanwhile he sends you costly presents, curiouS carpets and brave brocades, Silks and tapestries, spices of Araby, saffron and camphor and ambergris." Strange astonishment seized the Paladins, hearing the words of Blancandrin, And they turned incredulous one to the other. And Charlemagne painfully pondering, Leaning his chin on a staff of ebony, sat in silence and thought a space. And his long white beard like a snow-wreath drooping in front of the ebony staff hung down. At last he spoke, and the meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Blancandrin : " Gallant ambassador, these are promises easily spoken and hardly performed. The blade of corn in the springtime peeping in verdure above the furrow's bed Promises harvests ; in autumn the husbandman sorrowing gathers the cheerless chaff. The sun sinks smiling on beds of roses, and, since the evening is red, men say • To-morrow there'll be fine weather,' but wintry and wild is the weather to-morrow brings. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. As the blade or the sunset, so may your promises fair to-day to-morrow fail. Tell me by what proof, what warranty, you can assure the performances." Then Blancandrin, excellent traitor, he mumbled and muttered he knew not what. Caught in the toils at the outset, and sorely distressed and embarrassed to answer the king. He spoke of hostages, hummed about honour, and, "Sire, let one of your Paladins Come to the Caliph," he said, " and settle the terms of the treaty I treat about. Back he shall come with the noblest hostages, proof convincing of lealty." Charlemagne answered, and meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Blancandrin : " Back he shall come ! Aye, when ? For the proverb is. They who go to Saragosse Never return alive. Most dubious rate I the faith of an infidel." Then the crafty Blancandrin subtily spying his opportunity Laughed aloud : " O peerless Paladins ! Glory of Europe's chivalry ! Well it is ye save your persons for tiltyard combats and bloodless frays. I had quite forgotten your usages, else had I never spoken thus. Ye herd together, I now remember. In battle ye form a brotherly band. To bluster and blow on the skirts of the combat when all are together, delights you well. But to ride alone to the enemy's camp is a thing unheard of in your lore. This is beyond a Paladin's prowess, and craves the courage of a man." Scarce had he spoken when swords came whirring and leaping from scabbards, like a flight Of rockets shot up in the rnidsummer sky, and their glitterings set the whole grove alight. But the lightning flash that dazzled his eyes was the sword of Roland, DurandM. Loud was the roar of voices, but higher and louder than all of them Roland roared : ,'f I will go to Saragossa. Unarmed I'll go. Stript of my mail. Reft of my sword, and bound." And the Paladins, noisily crowding around the king. Fully as fiercely the favour soliciting, each for himself implored the boon. All save Sir Ganelon ; he stood sillily mouthing his words at the edge of the crowd. Meaning naught ; not even his glittering sword was drawn ; and he skulked behind. For fear was in his heart. Then Charlemagne pondered thus within himself. Slowly revolving the problems of policy, weighing weighty reasonings : " Sly was the traitor, and all too wary in spying his opportunity. Plans of prudentest policy slippery traitors entangle and bring to nought. 'Tis now too late to coquette with counsels that seemed but a moment ago the best. For since he has artfully roused the rivalry, raised the wrath of the Paladins, How may I stem a stream so turbulent? Is there taking a torrent to task ? Is there arguing with a whirlwind, or bating the bluster of Boreas? Better incline which way the weather has set the sails and shaped the course. Boldly relying on politic piloting safely to see the ship to shore. One must go to Saragossa, and air his hardihood to the world ; This can alone content the Paladins, touchy on honour and tirnid of scorn. And since events do thither tend, and the craven Caliph has kissed the dust, I had as lief these tugs and tussles of senseless Saracen strife were o'er. I had as lief receive submission as trample and tread the toad to death. And now I may certainly measure and estimate what is the worth of his promises. Since so gallant and faithful a messenger, one of my Paladins, dares to go And closely submit the scoundrel to scrutiny, putting his promises to the test." Thus as he pondered it seemed better, and ceasing his sage soliloquy He said, " My Paladins, I most potently feel the infidel's haughty sneer Never shall Christendom hear of a challenge flung down and refused by Charlemagne. CANTO I. One shall go to Saragossa, and beard the Caliph in his lair. This is the favour I grant to your prowess, and so I bid ye choose the man." As when a field of tawny barley is fanned with a freshening breeze of wind. The tall ears wave and rustle, and musical surges of sighing sound arise, So with the Paladins, turning in ecstasy one to the other to hear the words. Their tall plumes nodding, their armour rattling, a surge arising of clanking steel. Then out spake Roland : " Sire, your messenger sure no other can be than I ; The captain and chief of this courtly company ever have I been owned to be." " Nay," said Oliver, " Sire, your messenger sure no other can be than I. Let Roland in battle his bravery bluster, but Oliver's place is the council room." Then smiled Charlemagne, knowing that Oliver, hasty of head and strong of arm, Was least of all his royal Paladins fit for the feignings of embassy. And softly replying he said, " My Roland, the favour I cannot grantto you. What would become of this chivalrous company reft of its excellent leader and lord ? And for you, Oliver, how would Roland endure your absence from his side? Trusty compagnons, live for each other, nor disunite your destinies." (Meaning, indeed, that none of his bravest should venture the perilous embassy.) And next said Naimo: "Sire, your messenger sure no other can be than I. Many a problem of potent perplexity I have unravelled and rendered clear Both as ambassador and as a counsellor here in the midst of your council room." Then said Charlemagne, " Naimes, your wisdom is too much wanted to let you go." And next spoke Turpin, the bold-faced bishop, a doughtier never had wielded a mace : "Sire, my master, sure your messenger can no other be than I. I can convert the infidel caitiff, and bring him to baptism ere we part." Then said Charlemagne, " Nay, good Turpin, for where are our matins and vespers then ? Who can tell our prayers in the morning, and grant us his blessing at eventide ? " And so it was with all the others : each for himself implored the boon. Brave Rinaldo, the chivalrous Paladin ; Salomon, King of Brittany ; Lovely Astolpho ; Oger the Terrible ; Malagigi ; and Florismart. All save Sir Ganelon ; he stood sillily mouthing his words at the edge of the crowd. Meaning naught, nor stepped he forward to crave the boon, but skulked behind. For fear was in his heart. Woe, woe to the day when the bad blood first arose 'Twixt him and Roland ! For Roland espying his timorous air and guessing his fears Shouted, " Sir Ganelon craves the privilege. None desires it more than he." And they all took up the cry, and the clustering grove re-echoed, " Sir Ganelon ! " Then Sir Ganelon quaked with terror, his strong knees tottered, his broad frame shook, So that the velvety hide of the leopard that curtained his sinewy shoulders fell To the ground from off them, and there in his glittering vest of purple and gold he stood. As a snake, that a troop of noisy hunters disturb in a covert from its lair. Cowers and hisses in terror, its burnished scales a-glitter with purple and gold. His tall frame cowering, his white teeth gnashing, his bright eyes sparkling with terror and rage. At last to Roland he hissed out : " Enemy ! this is thy treachery ! this is thy spite ! Long hast thou watched an auspicious occasion of vengeance, and now behold it come ! Now thou canst glut to the full thy measureless appetite hungry for malice and wrong. Here I stand thy victim, an offering long expected and long designed." Thus he raged, as the tears of anguish glittered and swelled from his sparkling eyes. " Madman ! " he shouted, " thy desperate enmity knows no bounds. Thy anger like A torrent would bear away in its violence all who dare to breast its stream. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Thy heart fattened on feuds and quarrels, and blown like a bladder with flattery. Has grown so big that none may offer a stop to thy imperious will. Or if he do, woe to him ! as I unlucky have found from the day when first The feud arose betwixt us, that carefully nursing and rocking you keep alive. Woe to me now, because in honesty once I foiled your purposes ! Me you have chosen ! me have sacrificed ! bully and bravo ! take the words ! The day may come when I may at last cry ' Quits ' with you — yes, the day ivill come. So, please God, I return from the perilous embassy, you and I shall meet." Thus as he spoke, his eyes like coals glared on the stately Paladin. But Roland replied, and the meanwhile sternly fie turned his gaze on Ganelon : " I heed not thy menaces, craven contemptible. Since thou fearest thus to go. Name me thy deputy. I most willingly volunteer the embassy." So he spoke in derision, and Ganelon chafing addressed him to reply : " Fear have I none. Though dark and desperate be the venture, I know not fear. Thou, whose reckless and headstrong courage would cope with the whirlwind, stem the sea. Void of reason and reft of counsel, and beggared of all but bravery. Thou wouldest rush to so rash an adventure, if only to prove thy temerity. I, whose valour discretion has ever attempered, might well for a moment pause In the face of so fatal an ^ssay, but afterwards well do I know to bear myself. I will go to Saragossa — not unarmed like a fool, or bound. But bearing my sword and using my counsel how best to outwit the infidel. Yes I will go, and here I stand awaiting my Emperor's mandate. One — One favour only I petition — a little time, a short delay. So that in face of so fearful an enterprise plans of action I may prepare. This evening— or perhaps to-morrow — a few days' grace I humbly crave." Thus at the last he unmuflHed his cowardly heart. And Roland laughed aloud. And as a pack of hounds give tongue at the skirts of a cover, and rattling barks Ring through the cover, so from the Paladins rattling laughter rang through the grove. Then Sir Ganelon, drawing his sinewy form to its height, and pale with rage : " Robbers and slaves," he shouted, " I see it at last. Ye are all of you Roland's men, Leagued in conspiracy, banded in villainy, thus to betray me and work his will. This was a plot, thought out and deliberate. Ye are conspirators playing a part. Excellent actors arid gallant comedians hired for rogue Roland's masterpiece. Dastards and miscreants ! thus I defy you. Vengeance superlative yet shall be mine. The day of your play is past and over, but mine— mine, caitiffs and cowards, is to come." As dashes the spray and the foam of a river in sheets and fountains of fury aloft. When a great rock heaving has rolled from its homestead, plunging heavily in the stream. Such commotion among the Paladins rose — but was mastered manfully. Storms in their bosoms raged, and the feverish blood coursed through their throbbing veins. But never a hand was laid on sword-hilt, never a voice was heard exclaim ; But thera they stood like a group of marble, with stern sad faces and looks severe. Then Charlemagne rose, and raising his ebony sceptre to interpose between The wrangling elements, first to the Paladins thus addressed himself to speak. With speeches fair and words of honied purport to pacify the fray. Saying, " I thank you, gallant gentlemen ! well have ye carried yourselves in this, Beating back with efforts heroic your wrath, though cruelly tried ye were. Scorning to quarrel with a comrade, whose anger had ravished his reason away. Well is the pattern of Europe's chivalry shown in your gallantry to-day. CANTO II. And for you, Ganelon, blinded with pitiful passion, and raving with rage, you knew Not what you said. Defiance and challenges flung to your comrades before my face \ Take heed in the future, I tell you fairly, lest repetition of such a scene Colour your words with meaning, which now I excuse as the ravings of idiot rage. Remember who you are ! and these gentlemen, who they are ! your brothers-in-arms ! Sworn to a bond of loyal brotherhood, bound to friendship until death. I therefore bid thee," and meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Ganelon, " I bid thee quench this desperate passion which carries thee whither thou knowest not. Forget this quarrel, which these most chivalrous gentlemen readily will forget. Pick up thy silly gage, and hereafter beware hov/ thou offend again." Then Sir Ganelon smoothing his ruffled brow picked up from the earth his gage. And " Sire," he said, " in lowly obedience to thy mandates, I will use My best endeavour to teach this quarrel to sleep in the land of forgotten things. But meanwhile so acute the raillery, and so recent is the smart, I cannot find the due complacence to fawn and lick these gentlemen. When I return from the perilous embassy, then I will study to make amends. Now I am ready to go." Then Charlemagne handed him his staff and ring. Pouring the while in his ear most politic counsels of sage diplomacy. Bidding him thus and thus to manage it, this to propose and this to accept. And they who saw Sir Ganelon taking the ring and staff from Charlemagne, Saw as it seemed to them a baleful star, that flickering all night long, Pale with pestilence, spreading contagion among the flocks, and raying down Death and disease on men, shines languidly over the rim of a bank of clouds. Soon to set behind them — to rise again to-morrow. And now at last Sir Ganelon haughtily doffed his casque, and through the orchard he strode away. CANTO II. Out in the dark night rides Sir Ganelon on the Saragossa road. Muffle, ye clouds, the deeds of darkness that were done before the dawn ! For Ganelon halting under an olive tree waited in silence for Blancandrin, Who with his sixty mules caparisoned, jingling bells and bits of steel. Came in merriment from the orchard down the Saragossa road. Ganelon heard in the distance the jingling notes of the mule-bells float in the air. Nearer and nearer they came, and incessantly louder and louder the jinglings grew. And Ganelon tarrying under the olive tree there conferred with Blancandrin. Oh ! what conspiracy under that olive tree was ere the day dawned hatched and prepared ! And then they rode along together, Sir Ganelon haughtily speaking thus ; — " Nay ! but to tell a lie to my Emperor ! This is a thing undreamt by me. Had I but known the point of your purposes, never could I have yielded them. Honour ! my honour ! that once, as unclouded as yonder crescent moon, beamed high In the sky of chivalry, now though dusky and dimmed yet lives. I cannot do 't." Loud and coarsely laughed Blancandrin. " Excellent, excellent ! " shouted he. " Innocent men by the score thou inveiglest into the toils, and dealest death Without compunction wholesale. Nevertheless, when it comes to telling a lie. 8 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. A milkwhite lie, thou quakest and shirkest it. Why, 'tis madness. Art a sheep ? " Thus they rode along together conferring, and soon Sir Ganelon Was saying, " He brought a silver apple to Charlemagne, and said to him, ' Uncle, I offer thee all the coronets of the kingdoms of the world,' Thinking, the blustering rogue, that his single prowess could pufchase the Universe. Now I tell thee that 'tis Roland thou must strike. The rest are nought. Him lost, the ponderous host will shrivel away. His bluster keeps it up. Prick a bladder with a pin, and let the wind out. You understand." Thus they rode along together conferring, their heads together close. And now it was Blancandrin saying : " Roland for you, the rest for us. But what a sacrifice ! Thousands you barter for one. Your honour — " But Ganelon snarled, " Take the mincemeat. Give me the sausage." Thus they rode along their way. And so they came to Saragossa, the place of the perilous embassy. Yet little peril foiind Sir Ganelon ; full two weeks he tarried there. And daily 'neath his window heard the tramp of mu«tering chivalry. Out of the gates he saw the m.essengers flying down the dusty roads — Bound were some, 'twas said, for Barbary, some for Sibilie, some for Fez, Some for Algiers, realms of Saracen kings and caliphs over the sea. Some for Spanish Barcelona, Soria too, and Alicant. Whence this hurry, then, of messengers riding post to town and port? None knew better than Sir Ganelon. Thus he tarried for a while. Till at the last the bustle ceasing and the noises growing still, Back to Cordova and to Charlemagne did Sir Ganelon take his way. Out in the dark night rides Sir Ganelon on the Saragossa road. Meaning ere the blushing morning raise the curtains of the East Back to be in camp at Cordova. So he gives his steed the spur, And with a rattling ringing of clattering hoofs he galloped along the road. Now when the morning dawned, then Charlemagne held his court with his Paladins twelve, And there received Sir Ganelon safely returned from the perilous embassy. " Thou art welcome," he said, " my Ganelon, long hast thou tarried, yet safe return Makes amends for the fears of absence that we all had entertained. Had the recreant caliph injured but one hair upon thy head. Vengeance deep and terrible verily would have visited his sin. Tell us then the news of your perilous embassy." Then Sir Ganelon Spake with lying lips of matters that never had been and never could be. Telling with tongue that never faltered tales of treacherous villainy. So he ended, and then Charlemagne sat in silence and thought a space, Slowly revolving the problems of policy, weighing weighty reasonings. Leaning his chin on a staff of ebony, poring in reverie on the ground. And his long white beard like a snow-wreath drooping in front of the ebony staff hung down. And thus he pondered : " Well has Ganelon now discharged his arduous part. Faithful news of weighty embassy does he candidly relate. Now it behoves me well to ponder the course most politic to pursue. Many the reasons that might carry me still to prosecute the war. Christendom's honour, Europe's safety would seem to bid me never rest. As long as a single swarthy Saracen shows his faithless front in Spain. But since events do thither tend, and the cowardly Caliph has kissed the dust, I had as lief these tugs and tussles of senseless Saracen strife were o'er. CANTO IT. I had as lief receive submission as trample and tread the toad to death. And now I may certainly measure and estimate what is the worth of his promises. Since so gallant and faithful a messenger, one of my Paladins, thither has gone. And closely submitted the scoundrel to scrutiny, putting his promises to the test. War is wearisome, peace is pleasant. Already my Prankish subjects crave The boon of my presence in France. In Saxony sixty charters my seal await. While in Italy languid tranquillity wantons and woos to a brief repose." Thus as he pondered it seemfed better, and ceasing his sage soliloquy. He said, " My Paladins, I most potently feel the needs of Christendom, Knowing well that while a Saracen shows his faithless front in Spain, Danger always lurks of infamous rebelry, threatening Europe's peace. E'en as a careful husbandman reckons that while a single weed remains Danger there is of others arising to choke his fair grain's fruitfulness. And yet he suffers a few to languish for very contempt of plucking them. So it is with these recreant Saracens. They are the weeds that spoil my corn. Vet may I suffer the feeble remainder to languish in dull obscurity. Light the labour, but small the glory of rooting the residue from the ground. If I am satisfied with submission, so be ye, my Paladins. Well have I pondered and weighed the difficult question, and such appears to be The path that honour alike and policy steadily point me to pursue. And since the caliph has made submission unparalleled in chivalry. How would it compromise our dignity, chevaliers, to press the rights Of conquest to their limits ! Never let Europe say that Charlemagne Had sc|ph delight in the glut of triumph as vanquish the vanquished, slay the slain ! Deeds of doughtier daring and worthier champions wait your valorous arms. Break we our camp up, gallant gentlemen ; and when to-morrow's sun appears Begin we our toilsome march to Paris, where 'tis high time our face were seen. For embassies from many nations long have tarried our coming there." Thus he ended, and the Paladins bowed their heads in grave assent. And their gallant captain, Roland, trusted spokesman of the rest. Stepped him forward, and thus replying to Charlemagne, he said : " My liege. Thine is the mind to plan and deliberate. We are the hands to execute. Did thou bid us raze a mountain, clamber to heaven, storm the sea. Little demur I ween would the Paladins make to doing thy command. Now with words of wise sagacity thou dost bid us march from Spain. Thus thou biddest. We most willingly render our obedience. Yet we mightily fear lest treachery, unsuspected, unseen by thee. Has woven its toils in the course of the embassy lately discharged by Ganelon. These our fears we lay before thee, and humbly beg thy counsel's aid To determine if with justice we suspect our compde's faith." So he ended, and then Charlemagne thus addressed him to reply : '' Nay, good sirs, if I am satisfied with Sir Ganelon's embassy. So be ye. The words of treachery I am practised to discern. But Ganelon's words were words of integrity. Cease these doubts, for all is well." Thus the assembly dispersed, and the Paladins moving down the aisles of tents Gave to the captains the word of the Emperor, they to the soldiers' companies. And all was bustle and hurry and fluster against to-morrow at break of day. And thus the soldiers said to their fellows : " Happy the hour, when Sir Ganelon THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Bravely rode on his perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracens' town ! Well am I pleased at the prospect of seeing my home in merry France once more. Six long years have we served in perpetual conflict, with never the. harness off Our backs. And children, that toddled and scarcely reached our knee, by this will have grown Into boys and girls, and boys and girls will have grown into strapping youths and maids. Much do I yearn for the sight of my little ones once again. I wager my wife Is sitting and spinning and sadly complaining that never her husband she will see." And others said : " Comrade, how like you the tidings ? Dost go in the van with Charlemagne ? Or ridest thou in the rear with Roland ? They say he asks five thousand men. Nor more will have, and all the gallants are volunteering for the rear." " I am with them," cried another. " Sir Roland's the captain to my mind. What an entry into Paris we shall make ! You in the van Will make but little sensation. A pitiful guard of advance you'll seem to be. But we in the rear, the flower of the forces, and all the Paladins with us, I'm told — " Thus the soldiers spoke to their fellows. The day drew on and evening came. And sable night enwrapped with its wing the slumbering camp of Charlemagne. Now blushing morning raised the curtains of the East. The sun arose. Rising over a sea of canvass, stretching far as eye could see. Up sprang the Paladins, scorning the downy sweets of slumbering soft repose ; Up sprang the soldiers, waking cheerily when the bugle call was heard ; Gaily Sir Roland rose from his pillow and buckled his shining armour on. Joy was in his heart that morning, for he was bidden to lead the rear. The only post of danger that in so peaceful a marching might be found. With him was to ride in the rear-guard Oliver, Malagigi, and Florismart, Lovely Astolpho, Oger the Terrible, also Turpin the bishop bold. But lordly Salomon, king of Brittany, Naimes, the Duke of Bavaria, Also Rinaldo, the chivalrous Paladin known in the lists of Ascalon, Also Sir Ganelon — these with Charlemagne rode in the van to guard the king. But all the boldest barons, the valiantest soldiers, the gallanlest belted knights Of prowess excellent, rode with Roland, the flower of the forces went with him — Gerein and Gerier, Walter d'Amulier, Berlinghieri, and Duke Gaifier, Otto, Engelier, Brian, Berengier, Ivon and Ivor, and brave Sir Beuve, Samson, and Gautier, gallant Avolio, Gaston, and Gerard, and Duke Ast6r. Joy was in his heart that morning, and gaily he buckled his armour on. And first his brazen greaves he gartered. Then round his shapely thighs he drew The limber leggings, plates of slippery armour, folds of quilted steel. And next his golden breastplate, glittering like the sun, he tethered round His ample shoulders, closely lacing the leathern thongs that bound its joints. Then sleeves of mail, and gorget flashing with golden spangles he put on. But now about his waist his baldric buckled he, whereon there hung. Swinging down in an ivory scabbard, his beautiful falchion, Durandal. And drawing his beautiful blade to view it for a moment from its sheath. It shone like a star, and lit the gloomy tent with sparkles of silver light. And next he swung on a golden chain around his neck, his Olifant. That was his horn, that Merlin gave him, with cabalistic letters traced. Whose sound for miles terrific thundered, and that only he could wind. And now he donned his helmet, and grasping his lance he shook it like a reed. And thus equipped from his tent he sallied, and strode to the gathering multitude. CANTO II. His tall plume nodding, his armour rattling, a clash arising of clanking steel. And now adown the great camp's avenues ran the word to strike the tents. And straightway all the tents were struck— minarets tall of sailcloth white. Proud pavilions of snowy canvass, tents in thousands line and line. Fluttered, and drooped, and lay on the ground. As when in the gardens of palaces A forest of fountains toss their silvery waters up in the summer air. All day long they play, and steadily spout their pillars of feathery spray. Suddenly, at a signal given, off are the sluices turned, and all Droop for an instant, then fall for ever. And now the Paladins' steeds were brought. Champing and neighing and pawing with petulant hoof the ground ; behind the squires Ambled on elegant dappled palfreys, leisurely bearing their masters' shields. " Marshal we now our companies, gentlemen," it was Charlemagne who spoke, " And let the troops deploy in order." Adown the lines the Paladins ride, Shouting their orders; and slowly deploying in files and lines the regiments move. Little by little unwinding the knotted confusion in one long thread across The plain. As when a woman in needlework skilful untangles a tangled skein Of silk, with fingers nimble selecting the guiding thread from out the mesh. Little by little unwinding the tangle in one long thread of silk away. And now into two great parts the voluminous host doth sunder. And in the first. The largest, indeed, but not the fairest, are Charlemagne, Salomon, and Duke Naimes, Brave Rinaldo, and eke Sir Ganelon. These with their thousands press them on. And soon beyond the distant horizon, a great black mass, are lost to sight. Meanwhile the rear-guard slowly advances. Here are the valiantest belted knights. The boldest barons, the gallantest soldiers, the flower of the troops of Charlemagne ; Chosen by Roland himself are the gallant five thousand that ride with him in the rear. He himself, in advance of the others, bestriding his charger, Valleantif, Rides, like a moving tower. Around him are gathered a courtly company. Steel-clad Oliver, Oger the Terrible, battle-axe at saddle-bow. Lovely Astolpho of England, whose excellent beauty is girlish and soft among The bearded warriors, bold-faced Turpin, Malagigi, and Florismart. Gaily conversing they ambled together, their pennons flashing white in the sun. Behind them in excellent steady monotony tramp the lines of mail-clad men. Bronze-faced veterans, tramping cheerily, war now over, back to France. And thus, as they marched, they spoke to their fellows : " Happy the hour, when Sir Ganelon Bravely rode on his perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracens' town ! Well are we pleased at the prospect of seeing our homes in merry France once more. Six long years have we served in perpetual conflict, with never the harness off Our backs, and children, that toddled and scarcely reached our knee, by this will have grown Into boys and girls, and boys and girls will have grown into strapping youths and maids. Much do we yearn for the sight of our little ones once again. We wager our wives Are sitting and spinning and sadly complaining that never their husbands they will see." Behind the veterans, with pennons fluttering, and chargers neighing, a courtly troop Of belted knights and bold-faced barons ambled in excellent order along. They too were talking, and most of their lady-loves gaily conversed, and " Good Sir Beuve," It was with them, " I wager the beautiful hand of peerless Isabelle To excel in whiteness the lustrous beauty of fair-haired Azalais, thy love." " Nay, by St. Denis ! but this is mere pleasantry. So many years have rolled away. Since thou the lily hand, I the lustrous beauty of Azalais have seen. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. We never belike may make comparison. How will Azalais look on me. Who left her, a beardless stripling, and travel a bronzed and battered warrior back ! " " Sir Gerard, these toilsome tugs and tussles of Saracen strife rare havoc make In our affections. How have the stay-at-home silken knights had the call of us ! Much do I long to see my sweet-faced mistress, and plight my troth anew." Thus they rode along conversing. And now the day drew on apace, And evening came, and dark night dropt her sable wing on men and things. And then they bivouacked in a forest, and slept with camp-fires blazing round. But when the rosy-fingered morning raised the curtains of the east. Then they began their march right gladly, and still at evening were marching on. 'Twas at this time, when evening twilight spreads her mantle of grey around. That the mighty host of Charlemagne, now full twenty miles in front. Threading the Pyrenean mountains, entered the pass of Roncesvalles. And thus the soldiers said to their fellows : " What black rocks are here about ! What defiles, too, winding and sweeping, like a labyrinth, all around ! And what rugged rocks precipitous beetle up, and hem us in ! Well it is for all and sundry these are the piping times of peace. Else what treachery, else what massacre might be perpetrated here ! Netted like a shoal of fishes, every man of us would fall." But safely out of the dreadful valley they passed, and gained the other side Of the Pyrenean mountains, and now they stood on Prankish ground once more. What delight did thrill their bosoms ! And they lightly stept along. 'Twas at this hour that Roland's rear-guard, marching stoutly on their way. Entered the lofty Pyrenean mountains from the further side. Many a mile they marched that moonlight night, and onward gallantly Through the heart of the Pyreneans toiled along ; full half the road Across the stately hills they covered, marching on ; until at last They came to Ronda, pleasant village, near the pass of Roncesvalles. And there they bivouacked on the mountains, with their watchfires blazing round. CANTO III. Now as soon as rosy morning raised the curtains of the East, Up sprang the Paladins, scorning the downy sweets of slumbering soft repose ; Up sprang the soldiers, waking cheerily, when the bugle call was heard; Gaily Sir Roland arose from his slumber, and buckled his shining armour on. Joy was in the camp that morning, for, ere the day had passed away. Back they all would be in merry France, their native home, once more. And thus the soldiers said to their fellows : " This is a happy day for us. Many a year of toilsome warfare does this happy day repay. Tugging with enemies now is over, and romping with children will now begin. Six bright chubby and shapely youngsters are waiting for me in Picardy." And others said, " Doubtless m y friends and neighbours, and even my little wife herself. Imagine me dead and gone. In a day or two, how I shall surprise them all ! How they will hang on my lips for intelligence ! How I shall tell my tales of war, CANTO III. 13 And fight my battles over and over ! Happy the hour, when Sir Ganelon Bravely rode on his perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracen's town ! Well am I pleased at the prospect of seeing my home in merry France once more." And others said, " Of troublesome, wearisome war I've had enough and to spare. I shall turn farmer, and hang up my buckler, to rust as it may at my chimney's side. I shall plant vines, or sow potatoes. An excellent husbandman I shall make. Strong in the arm to drive my furrows. Happy the hour, when Sir Ganelon Bravely rode on his perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracen's town ! Well am I pleased at the prospect of seeing my home in merry France once more." And now Sir Roland gave the signal to march, and wheeling in files and lines. Marshalling easily into order, the gallant army onward moved. He himself in advance of the others, bestriding his charger, Valleantif, Rode like a moving tower. Around him were gathered a noble company. Steel-clad Oliver, Oger the Terrible, battle-axe at saddle-bow, Lovely Astolpho of England, whose excellent beauty was girlish and soft an^ong The bearded warriors, brawny Turpin, Malagigi, and Florismart. Behind them in excellent steady monotony tramp the lines of mail-clad men. Bronze-faced veterans, tramping cheerily, marching merrily on their way. Behind the veterans, with pennons fluttering, and chargers neighing, a. courtly troop Of belted knights and bold-faced barons ambled in excellent order along. So for two full hours they travelled, marching stoutly on their way. Till at last, in serried order, they entered the pass of Roncesvalles. And thus the soldiers said to their fellows : " What black rocks are hereabouts ! What defiles, too, winding and sweeping, like a labyrinth, all around ! And what ragged rocks, precipitous, beetle up, and hem us in ! Well it is for one and all of us, these are the frivolous times of peace, Else what treachery, else what massacre, might be perpetrated here ! Netted like a covey of partridges, every man of us would fall. Well and fortunate for one and all of us, that brave Sir Ganelon concluded peace With the Saracen ! It salvation is, at a critical time like this." Thus the soldiers together confabulate, marching. And now the last man was in. Suddenly Roland paused on his charger for an instant, and, turning round. Whispered Oliver, " I see a pennon at the end of yon defile, tiaste thee, Oliver, mount a pinnacle. Scan the passes with thine eyes. Much I fear lest baleful treachery be a-brewing. Haste thee. Up ! " Hastily Oliver mounted a pinnacle, scanning the passes with his eyes, And they saw him shade his eyebrows with his hand, and start aback. He to Roland called from the pinnacle, " Saracens ! Saracens ! swarms ! swarms ! A sea of turbans and tossing helmets stretches as far as eye can see. I could walk upon their infidel heads, so crowdedly packed they are." Oliver slided down from the pinnacle. Roland between his teeth hissed out, " God give damnation to the traitor ! Ganelon — Ganelon — This is his work. He has netted us — he has baited his cursed lines, and we, like fools, Have swallowed the hook." But Oliver, hurrying up to him, seized his arm, and said :- "Good my compagnon, listen unto me. Round us in thousands the Saracens swarm. They are many ; we are few. Trust me ! better sound thy horn. Sound thy Olifant, good my compagnon. Charlemagne, distant though he be, Will hear the blast, and turn his army. We may hold out until he comes. 14 THE DEATH OiF ROLAND. Do what I tell thee, Roland, my comrade. Sound thy Olifant.'' Roland replied : — " Art thou mad, Oliver ? Wouldest thou have me lose my honour ? To sound my horn — To call for help, in the face of a party of cowardly infidels ? Call for aid ? Prattle not of such matters to me, — an thou love me, Oliver, say no more." " Good my compagnon, sound thy Olifant. Thousands of Saracens swarm around. 'Tis folly for us to attempt to withstand them, unaided. . Roland, listen to me. Sound thy Olifant. Our good emperor surely will hear it, and come to our aid." " What? and be dubbed rare cowards ? Nay, rather, let us be up and at them. Strike — Strike them down, and win our glory. Christendom expects as much." " Roland, my comrade, sound thy Olifant. A little while 't may be too late. Charlemagne will hear it, and hither with all his forces will come to our aid." " Ah, God forbid it ! Man on earth shall never say I sounded my horn For these cursed infidels. Such reproach shall never light on me. Away ! " " Roland, my comrade, sound thy Olifant. What reproach ? What meanest thou ? These Saracens round us are without number. The earth is covered with their hordes. The valleys, the mountains, the plains are black with them. Scanning their helms from the I seemed to be over a forest of feathers, that reached to the very horizon's edge. [pinnacle, I tell thee that millions are round about us." But Roland, unterrified, replied : " I tell thee I never will sound my Olifant, while these arms can hold a sword. Let us be up and at them. And, Oliver, if thou love me, no more of this." Then, gallantly riding among his gentlemen, " Chevaliers," he said, " and men. We are surrounded by the Saracens. Tough work we may have, perhaps. Yet do I cheerfully count on your gallantry, with good hopes of victory. One more, and perhaps the last one — for our merry France is near — One more joust will we ride with the Saracens, for our beauteous ladies' sakes. One more game at tennis we'll play them. Let your bats strike hard, good sirs. Each reflecting, that not himself only, but also his brother he aids in this ; For they are a dozen to one, and the sooner we each of us finish off our list. The sooner we may the needful assistance to our brave companions give. Stand together, and keep close order; obey your leaders, as ever ye do." Then cried the soldiers, and the captains, and the knights, and barons bold, " Woe to him who flies ! not one of us but will stand to thee till death." Scarce had he spoken, and while they were speaking, a terrible roar of drums peals out On the silent air in thunder terrific surging and echoing all around. Down the passes, at back and front of them, on every side of them, and the valley broad. Roared the din of music military, and slowly converging through ten defiles. With pennons fluttering, and chargers neighing, the Saracen host in order came. Great joy filled Sir Roland's bosom. The joy of battle was on his soul. And standing there in the midst of his warriors, with clear calm front and smile serene, He seemed as the sun, when in noonday splendour it spreads its effulgence over the world. Marshalling gracefully in the broad valley, legion by legion the Saracens poured. Streaming in through the winding passes. Then Oliver said, " I know these men. They are the caliph's picked battalions. That is their chief, Duke Falsaron. With them, I mightily may imagine, are the caliph of Alicant's men." " Are they so ? " said Malagigi. " Let them come on, and as many more. One tug and tussle, and all is over. The craven cowards will run like sheep." " There I see the prince of Soria," cried Astolpho. " Once I had A joust with him at Barcelona. Well did he bear him in the lists." CANTO III. IS Thus the Paladins spoke together, conferring at ease in the midst of their men. Suddenly, at a signal given, a sleety shower of missiles fly From the archers and slingers and javelin-throwers of the mighty Saracen host. Such a feathery shower of arrowy sleet and wingfed hail came on, That the air grew dark beneath it, as if a cloud obscured the sun. " Back, brave soldiers ! " shouted Roland. " Back, until the sprinkle cease ! " And as when a party of skirmishers, reconnoitring the enemies' lines, Suddenly come in view of the enemy, little dreaming they were so near ; All along the lines of the enemy break the rattling musket shots. The skirmishers hastily run for refuge behind great trees and stately oaks, That with their gnarlfed, brawny, bulky trunks give refuge from the fire : So the warriors behind the Paladins run for refuge from the darts. And still for awhile the feathery, arrowy shower of wingfed sleet prevailed. Until at the last a lull arising, Astolpho to his fellows said : " Mightily, Paladins, am I tempted to open the ball with the Saracens. Well could I run a tilt with the chivalrous prince of Soria once again. Much have I marked him moving and marshalling masses of men adown the vale. 'Tis his skilful strategy, credit me, that has hither manoeuvred the host. Oft have I heard of his fame in strategy. Now I see it with mine eyes. Service none better can I render to our beleaguered companies, Than run a tilt with yonder Saracen, teaching him manners of courtesy." Thus saying, Astolpho, on his high-mettled steed, Malvair, pricked from the lines, His lance in his hand, and his gay plume glancing, his silver armour shining bright. Gaily he rode across the champain. Prince Arlotto spurred his steed. And between the gallant armies the champions met. And sadly thus Astolpho spoke, and the meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on the Saracen : — " Much do I marvel to see thee, Soria, leagued with traitors, hounding with knaves. Better things I once had thought of thee, when we met in the lists at Val. Then thy chivalry and thy gallantry won my heart But now thy shame Makes me almost weep because of thee. This discourtesy goes not free. Bitter the lesson I now will teach thee, what packing cards with traitors is.'' Thus he spoke, and Prince Arlotto nothing answered, and hung his head. Then they backed their steeds, and, spurring them, met in the horrid shock of war. Down in the dust rolled the princely Saracen, broken his saddle-girths, fallen his steed. Lightly Astolpho sprang from his saddle, and, raising his enemy by the hand. He said, '■ I scorn to accept this advantage. Up on thy feet ! And to it with swords ! " Then with many a circling demivolte, parry, stoccado, and pass in tierce. Feinting, and thrusting, and lunging, and guarding, with clashing and crashing of glittering They fought together. Meanwhile Oliver, spying about for a man of mark, [blades. Noted Malprimis, Lord of Brigal, busily mustering his brigade. Searce did the regiment, moving in infinite symmetry, led by Malprimis, advance Over the plain, than against Malprimis, against the regiment, Oliver rode. Shouting, •' Dastards ! I come to destroy ye 1" Malprimis quaked, and halted his men. But, ere he could turn to flee his destiny, through his body was driven the lance. Great confusion arose in the regiment, at the sight of the Paladin Raging in front of them, in his dazzling armour, like a torrent of fire. In timidity turned the regiment, hastily beating a wild retreat. Scattering over the plain, and Oliver, like a dog, who, for his sport. 1 6 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Hunts a flock of bleating, baaing, timorous sheep across a field, Chased the fugitives. Now along the Frankish lines the advance became General. Steadily marched the veterans, grimly advancing line and line. Behind the veterans, with pennons fluttering, and chargers neighing, rode the knights. Sadly the chief of the Saracens, Falsaron, gazed from a hillock upon the scene, Viewed his discomfited forces retreating in wild confusion on every side. And thus he spoke to his vizier, Vazzalis : " All is lost ! The game is o'er ! Never such cowardly caitiffs the caliph ever has sent as these to war. See ! they fly, like sheep, from the enemy. Never a man dare stand his ground. Best laid plans of battle are baffled, with such sheep as these for men. Cowardice stultifies skflfuUest strategy. Tactics totter at timorousness. What report shall I make to the caliph ? How shall I his displeasure face ? Promises, erewhile made with confidence, nay, with arrogance, that I would Vanquish this band of Franks, so royally netted and landed, as they seemed, — These fair promises I see broken, and flouted, and mocked before my eyes. My tactics trifled with, my troops made game of, my well laid plans confused and foiled. What report shall I make to the caliph ? How shall I his displeasure face ? Death and dishonour will be my portion. Fatal is this day for me." Thus he spoke, and, raising his timorous eyes, in the distance he beheld Roland coming, at speed precipitous, right to the spot whereon he rode. As when an engine in giddy motion spins along the slippery line. Rushing at such dizzy swiftness, men can but say, " 'Tis here ! " " 'Tis there ! " At such dizzy pace precipitous, Roland sped across the plain. Pierced with the pointed lance was Falsaron, ere his eyes could turn away. And now confusion among the regiments rose ineffable, far and wide. Through the passes on every side of them, crowding and struggling, the Saracens fled. Little by little, the seething multitude passed away, and the valley was bare. Gaily Sir Roland rode to his gentlemen, and the veterans gave a cheer. And thus the Paladin spoke, " Ye gallant hearts, well have ye carried yourselves in this ! And the victory — did I not tell ye, how the fight would end ? These sheep Are scarcely worth the sword of a gentleman leaving its sheath. The scabbard's enough." And thus the soldiers spoke to their fellows : " Tough the encounter has been, yet we May rejoice in the glorious victory, that has purchased us safe return. Wdl are we pleased at the prospect of seeing our home in merry France once more." Thus the soldiers, and thus Sir Roland gaily, serenely conversing around, Among the Paladins, and the barons, and the belted knights of fame. Not so Oliver. He stood gloomily brooding, and thus he said to himself : " A sea of Saracens I saw from the pinnacle, reaching as far as eye could view. These by comparison are but a handful. Could my eyes have played me false ? Was it the suddenness of the spectacle of that forest of tossing plumes. That dazzled my vision and confused me, making me see ten men for one ? No, no, Oliver ! Thou'rt no baby. Fear hath never dimmed thy eyes. Unappalled I have looked on carnage ocean-wide, and can a sight Of tufted caps and idle helmets take my breath away with fear ? Yet 'tis possible, that from the pinnacle straining my eyes to see afar I might somewhat over-estimate the numbers of those I saw around.'' Thus mused Oliver, gloomily brooding apart, and, striking his breast, he said : "A sea of Saracens I saw from the pinnacle, reaching to the horizon's edge." CANTO III. 17 And now the army were slowly deploying to march from the valley, when suddenly, Down the passes, at back and front of them, on every side of them, above and around. Roared the din of music military, and, slowly converging through the defiles, With drums tattooing, and trumpets blowing, and clarions pealing, and pomp of war. And pennons fluttering, and chargers neighing, a second Saracen army came. iMore voluminous, more majestical, than the first they seemed to be. Then one of the Paladins, wistfully gazing, cried, " God ! auxiliaries ! These must have come From foreign parts, from distant territories of heathen Saracen beyond the sea. There, the martial Emir of Balaghoot leads the centre of the host. By his turban green I Itnow him. Oft, at Tunis, have I seen That green turban, like a tree-top, foremost in the ranks of war. And on the right wing, see ! the Corsairs, led by valorous Valdabrun, The Corsair King, who in Majorca holds his court of piracy. Master, he, of twice four hundred ships, that scour the sea for prey. Much do I marvel to see him hitherward, notwithstanding. For I had heard That he was royally entertaining the king of the Indies at his court. On the left, that burly champion. King Corsablix of Barbary, Marshals his pirates in battalions, robbers and corsairs, too, are they." While he was speaking, the host was advancing, and out of the lines a gallant rides, Scoffing Aelroth, the caliph's nephew, on a milkwhite Arab steed. Light he curvetted before the battalions, seated at ease on his jennet so gay. Tossing aloft his sparkling scimitar, catching it lightly as it fell. Showers of sparkles, a spray of spangles, scintillate from the scimitar. And thus he taunted : " Cursed Christians, ye thought to escape us — did ye now? One good struggle, and all was over, — and back with your burly barons to France. Those, that we sent, were but the offal. Well could we spare them, be assured. If but to thin our camp of its carrion, mightily well were we rid of them. So we sent them for your breakfast, to give you a stomach for the fight. Now we come in earnest. Tremble, ye dogs, at our embattled host ! Champions valorous, and not caitiffs, will ye meet to try your arms. Vanquished, subjugated, crushed, ye will ere long for mercy beg. Vanquished, subjugated, crushed, are ye already at our sight." These taunts brooked not the bold Sir Oliver, and, setting the spurs to his gallant steed. He rode at a gallop across the intervening space, with his lance in rest. Aelroth saw the ponderous Paladin coming fast, and fain would he Have skulked behind the foremost lines of the Saracen host. He turned to flee. But, ere he turned, the bold Sir Oliver dealt him such a doughty blow. That horse and rider together tumbled struggling in the dust. And now Sir Oliver drives the foremost lines of Saracens in. As when a man, Pushes a paper partition, that, serving in lieu of a solid door, divides Adjoining chambers. Other access doth he commonly use — by doors Circuitous. But, should the whim seize him to pass that way from room to room. He pushes and breaks the paper, and enters. So Sir Oliver the Saracen lines. Meanwhile the gallant army, the soldiers, the belted knights, and barons bold. Stood on an eminence, hardly restraining their great eagerness for the fray. Fretting, and fuming, and chafing impatiently, like a company of gallant steeds. Reined by their riders, who confabulate with some friends they chanced to meet. Long do the riders stay confabulating; all the while, the gallant steeds, P i8 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Fretting, and champing, and pawing with petulant hoof the ground, long to be off. Yearning for motion. So the warriors fretted, and fumed, and yearned for war. At last, in answer to their impatience. Sir Roland gave the word to Go ! Down, in excellent steady monotony, tramp the lines of mail-clad men. Bronze-faced veterans, tramping cheerily, in their phalanxes, to the fray. Behind the veterans, with pennons fluttering, and charges neighing, the courtly troop Of belted knights, and bold-faced barons, proudly prance in order along. On they march, and, irresistible, into the Saracen ranks they drive. As when a carpenter into a ponderous trunk of timber drives a wedge. First, in the crack he lays the thin end ; next, a mighty mallet takes ; Then, uplifting it, with force prodigious, he fetches the wedge's head a stroke. Right in the heart of the ponderous timber is buried the wedge. The ponderous trunk Cracks, and strains, and yawns asunder. So, to the eyes of the Paladins, Who, from an eminence, holding their council there, calmly viewed the tide of war. Seemed the entry of their battalions into the ponderous Saracen host. Then the veterans, in the midst of the Saracens, turned, like lions, upon their foes. Space was hastily left around them ; crowding and struggling, the Saracens fled. Till, at a distance, they formed a wondering, trembling circle, all around. In the midst of the circle stood the veterans, fiercely defying their foes to the fray. And thus a veteran said to a Saracen : " Caitiff, come on, and meet thy fate ! Are thy feet but made for flying? Are thy arms but given thee. To droop and hang, like broken branches of sorry timber, at thy side ? Say ! canst thou lift a thing so heavy, as a pike, or as a sword ? Canst thou bear the weight of it ? Can thy imbecile arms support the load ? Nay, thou may'st dandle it, like a baby, taking both thy arms to nurse The little infant that thou fearestto touch so terribly, lest it bite." And thus a veteran said to the Saracens : " Cowards, come, and give a chance! Here will I, or one of my comrades, single-handed stand a score." And thus a veteran : " I, left-handed, and but little practice can I boast of having in so unusual a method of fence, will undertake To fight the pick of you, one by one, for an hour's stretch, or more, will I." And thus a veteran said to the Saracens : " Where are your swords, you knaves? Flung down For us as for Sir Oliver over there ? Cast away in panic and fear? If it like you, then, at fisticuffs we will play together. Come ! " And now around the cowardly Saracens come the officers and chiefs. With whips and scourges urging them forward. But in vain. They will not budge An inch towards those grisly warriors in the centre of the ring. And thus the veterans said to each other : " Since we cannot tempt them thus. Let us assault them, each man singly cutting his way athrough the swarm. Carving these joints of excellent Saracen beef in the way it suits him best." Thus the veterans spoke together, conferring. Around their swarming foes. Mustering courage, threaten. Suddenly, at a preconcerted sign. Dash the veterans at the Saracens, at back and front of them, and all around. Streaming in lines of steady obliquity from a common centre out. As when, in glittering lines of obliquity, from a focus stream the rays. Through the soldiers to the officers, through the officers to the chiefs. Stream the veterans continually, and with thrusting and with lunging. And with clashing and with crashing of glittering blades they fought their way. CANTO IV. 19 CANTO IV. Now swelled the princely soul of Sir Florismart. In his breast desire arose For instant battle. Therefore turning to his brother Paladins, " I go," he said, "to chastise these miscreants, and teach them manners of courtesy. Long have I brooked, with much impatience, the sight of the infidel chivalry. Seething and foaming beneath me in turbulent eddies across the stormy plain. Long have I yearned for the combat, and mightily, so that no longer my heart can resist. Therefore will I take my leave of you for a while, and hie me down To where the hurtle of the battle sheds its music on my ear; Where I would fain unbuckle my soul in the joy of fight, and have my desires Off these same Pagan champions, whom with forbearance I long enough have viewed Exulting in their braggart might, glorying in multitude, puffing up Their souls with pride, at the dishonourable thought of having brought Their seethy multitudes around in floods to men, whose boats were beached, And who, by rights of fair and courteous marinership, might have surmised Fine weather. Glorying in their foul dishonour, there they stand and swell. The recreancy of their perfidy, plainly apparent to gallant knights And gentlemen of Christendom, must be made patent to themselves. I go, gentlemen, to chastise these miscreants, and teach them the manners of courtesy." Thus saying, he loftily bowed his head to the Paladins, and addressed to move. Proudly Sir Florismart rode to the carnage, bestriding his war-horse, Grandonie, His lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding — a very tower of steel. Proudly he rode across the champain to the left of the enemy's lines. Where complacently burly Corsabfix, potentate of Barbary, Marshalled in serried squares and squadrons his embattled chivalry. As when a farmer from a hill-top views with pride his smiling fields, That, with hedgerows trim and fences laid out neatly, lie below. Joy distends his bosom at the trophies of his husbandry. With such joy did burly Corsablix look on his paraded squares. And thus he spoke to his mighty soul : — " Here I stand in the midst of my Embattled hosts. Who dare defy my mighty strength ? who can resist The roaring of my power ? Well was it for the armies here, that I Was prayed to bring my bold battalions to the battle. Here is the rock On which the clustered might of Araby reposes. Here is the base And firm substratum of the teeming chivalry around. Well, well It was for his own sake, that Balaghoot brought me hither, if not for mine. And yet they tell me of rare spoils among the Prankish host. I hear. With ears of rapture, of rich convoys, trusted to their custody By Charlemagne, of royal treasure, specie, bullion — nay ! let alone The ornamental arms, with which these Franks delight to deck themselves — Breastplates of gold, helmets of bossy silver, shields ablaze with gems." Thus raged the burly Corsablix in the midst of his hollow squares. Pacing backwards and forwards on his charger, like an angry bull Lashing its tail, and working up its wrath. " Ablaze with gems— and helms 20 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Of milky silver. Here ! Come, let me clutch them in armfuls ! " Thus he raged. " Well was it that I came, if but for plunder only. O feast, O glut Of triumph, be thou mine ! " Thus, pacing to and fro, he raged ; his arms Of blue-black steel loomed in the sun, and on his helmeted top was girt The crown of Barbary. " Where would the Saracen host their mustering-ground and rock Of rallying find, but on the bottom of my brigades ? Where would these swarms Of seething chivalry, that seethe and storm about the plain — where would Their mettle be, without a heart — some strong stout heart of soldiery Beating among them. Here, in my embattled squares and squadrons, is The rock of Arab/s might. Without my hosts, windy and vain would be Their efforts. Well it was, that Balaghoot brought me hither ! Well for all ! Here is the mainstay — I, the centre of the Saracen chivalry. Here I stand, in the midst of my embattled hosts, a god confessed," Thus as he raged unruly, suddenly, at the outside of the squares, appeared Sir Florismart — calling him by name. As one, who knocks at the gate of a house. And demands imperiously to see its owner. And thus said Florismart from the outside: " Corsablix, boast no more ! But if thy mettle be in keeping with Thy braggart words, come out and dare a fray." And thus said Corsablix From the inside : " Proud Frank, avaunt ! nor think thy imperious behest Will brook obedience. Thou to bid me ! — and I, a king in the midst of his hosts Embattled ? Away ! " And thus Sir Florismart from the outside : " King Corsablix, Thou forfeitedst thy kingship, and the courteous respect of gentlemen, When thou conspiredst with traitors. Come out, miscreant, and meet thy doom deserved." And thus Corsablix from the inside, shouting, as when one, in the far Distance, calls over hedges and fields to another in a far off spot : " Come, then, and fetch me, gallant, sith thou desirest so keenly my company." No longer paltered the proud Sir Florismart, but setting spurs to Grandonie He leapt the foremost hedge of pikes, breaking athrough the tangled tops On his mailed and barbfed steed, as easily as a prickly hedge a horse. Then with a rattling ringing of clattering hoofs he galloped across the hollow Square, in a twinkling covering the distance. Then another hedge of pikes Opposed him ; he leapt it lightly and easily, breaking athrough the tangled tops. As a prickly hedge a horse. Lightly he leapt it, and then with a rattling Ringing of clattering hoofs he galloped across the hollow square, and took The next hedge. So a foxhunter, galloping over hedges and over fields. Puts his horse at the fences and hedges-^the gallant hunter takes them all. Leaping royally. Down go the haunches, and up go the shoulders — the animal leaps, and Down go the shoulders, and up go the haunches — the horse has leapt, and gallops away Over the meadow before it. Sir Florismart thus on gallant Grandonie Leaps the pikes, and covers the squares, in his ride to burly Corsablix. " 'Sblood ! " cried the giant, in a voice of thunder. " Here, my men, fall back, and take Close order round me. Death and damnation, the enemy comes ! Make haste, I say ! You, at the back, wheel your battalions, and pack nie in with a forest of spears. Me he is riding at ! I am his target ! As for your lazarly carrion. He recks it not. So fear ye not for yourselves, but fear for your king. He comes ! " Round the burly king of Barbary, hosts of spearmen marshalled round Found Sir Florismart, when in his valorous ride at last he reached his goal. Six times did he throw his Grandonie on the forest of pointed spears. CANTO IV. it And six times the gallant Grandonie back on his haunches broad recoiled. Round and round the ring of pointed spears Sir Florismart rides in vain. Spying an opening. And thus Corsablix, safe in the centre of the ring, Taunted : " Gallant, the tourney is over. Now for a little exercise In circus-riding for a change. That is right. Amble your nag that way, Now this way. Good ! I, the circus-master, will direct your brave Quadrillings." Thus the burly Corsablix taunted, and roared at his wittiness. Then he bellowed in voice of thunder : " Ho ! bring the companies up at the back ! Surround this knave, and handcuff him. A thousand zecchins for his head ! " Up came streaming the battalions on every hand. When suddenly. As when a man who fain would traverse a field of corn, and yet would not Trespass upon the fruitful ears, scanning the corn, suddenly spies A path that leads across it. Joyfully doth he address himself to move. So Sir Florismart spied an avenue suddenly down the pack of spears ; Spied it, and took it, and in a moment was by the burly monarch's side. Face to face they stood together, and ere the spearmen could turn them round, Florismart seized the burly, ponderous, quaking tyrant by the arm, And, dragging him to him, with his strong sword fetched him a crashing blow on the crest. Down from his horse with a thud fell Corsablix, dead. Sir Florismart leapt from his steed. And planting his foot on the giant's body stood erect at bay. Around, The companies, thunderstruck at the suddenness of the deed, at first, half dazed. Looked on incredulous. Then, collecting their courage, and mustering up amain Their swarming hordes, they threatened onset. As when around a kingly lion, Who, in the very heart of tbe pasture marauding, has seized a bull for prey, A troop of timid shepherds, armed with sticks and bludgeons, threaten him. He disdainful, with flashing eyes, stands with his paw upon his prize. So with flashing eyes Sir Florismart stood with his foot upon his foe. Meanwhile the Paladins, from the eminence overlooking the battlefield. Not without pleasure viewed their hero's prowess in the distant fight. And thus said Roland : " Now God give him honour ! Not in Christendom shall ye find Another such gallant knight as Florismart. Well has he carried himself in this." And thus said Malagigi, " How would it sore distress him now, should one Of us, as doubting his prowess, hurry adown to his side with proffered help ! Sore distressed and sore afflicted would the soul of Florismart be." And thus said Oger, " Nay, let him be. Florismart needeth none of us." And thus said Astolpho, " See, where Oliver, like a bear, right in the heart Of the centre there ravines ! See, how they give ! See, how he mows them down ! Ah ! he makes for that green-topped Emir. God ! he is at him. No ! a foil ! Fain would I be down there, my chivalrous Oliver. Fain would I be at thy side." Thus spoke the lovely Astolpho of England, bending his bright eyes wistfully down. His noble form dilating. And Roland thus addressed him in reply : " Lovely Astolpho of England, whose excellent beauty is girlish and soft among Our grizzly warriors, hie thee thitherward therefore, since it likes thee so. Can I refuse thee? Nay, the Paladins' ringlets shall float there, if but to prove As terrible as their bristles." Thus Roland, in answer to his prayer, replied. Gaily Astolpho, bestriding his high-mettled steed, Malvair, pricked to the war. His lance in his hand, and his gay plume glancing, his silver armour shining bright. And they saw him down the declivity speeding, and over the champain broad. Till in the distance he entered the enemies' lines, and was lost to sight. As when THE DEATH OF ROLAND. A bark, with its white sails set, is lost in the mist of the distant h6rizon. So seemed Astolpho, disappearing into the turbid ranks of war. Thus one by one those stately Paladins moved to the carnage, as it seemed Their presence was required — sights majestical, very towers of steel. All except Roland. He, with aide-de-camps and with messengers speeding up And down, from the eminence where he stood directed the plan of the battle. As when A man intent on chess pores on the board ; and first this piece he moves. Then that j now marshals his hosts of pawns, and now a superior piece brings out To rule a rank, and follow up his gambit cleverly. Much he pores. Intent upon the game. So Roland pored upon the fight beneath. By his side stood Oger the Terrible He, of all the Paladins, Not yet had moved, his presence not yet craved. But still he tarried by His leader's side. Thus they two from the eminence viewed the fight beneath. Meanwhile Sir Florismart had burst from the circling battalions of Barbary, And raged abroad among them, like a lion amid a press of sheep. And first his strong spear pierced the breast of the Barbary champion, Alkarekh. And next at Bicarax he rode, the lord of Glemis; and next Bazoul Fell at his bidding ; and next his strong spear pierced the breast of Agbali, Lord of countless pasture-grounds amid the Hats of Barbary. And next at Matsou, and next at Koodhar, Sir Florismart rode on Grandonie. And next his strong spear pierced the breast of the African emir, Valtomis. Master and leader of twice five hundred braves in the battle was Valtomis, Yet none of his twice five hundred could shield him from fiery Florismart's onset. Next Marquil of Gallaneh fell, and Bursitul, lord of Calls, and next Balast. All these fell before Sir Florismart. Next at Ongaris he rode. Lord of Torul, next at Challaneh, lord of Brisar by the sea. And next his strong spear pierced the breast of the Barbary vizier, Bastilan. Face to face with Sir Florismart, Bastilan leapt from his horse, and fell on his knee, Saying, " Sir knight, this impious treachery of my master Corsablix Was not advised by me. The dissuader, deterrei- of this foul enterprise, Ever was I from the first. But Corsablix, like a hungry bull bent on Fat pasture-ground, hearing of plunder to be had, a false surmise, Levied his legions, against my tellings, bent as I ever am on peace. For these reasons, gallant knight and chivalrous, I beseech thee spare My life — a life of little worth, but one unstained by treachery." Then Sir Florismart, lowering his tall lance at the words, reined in his steed, And thus replying, " Courteous vizier," he said, " since thou hast had no part In this foul league of villainy, take that life thou beggest of me, and Husband it hence more thriftily, herding no more with traitors." Thus he spoke. And would have turned away, but the soldiery, more truthful than the vizier. Called aloud around, " Nay, gallant! Of all the army this is the knave. He was the prime adviser, conspirator. He led Corsablix on to the deed." Thus they hooted their cowardly vizier, all around, and Florismart, Sternly eyeing the treacherous knave, through his body drove the lance. And next Sir Florismart turned where Timon, burly count of Mascara, stood. Reining his war-horse, and half threatening, haply surmising the parley a peace. " What? a faintheart? " shouted Timon. " Does our gallant talk of terms? Nay, then, I'll run thee a turn at the tourney first, for the sake of our lady-loves." CANTO IV. 23 Then Sir Florismart. " Not for my lady-love ride I with such traitor knaves : But to deal them proper punishment. Death, Sir knight, is the guerdon here. Therefore prepare thee, and use thy prowess. Ask no quarter, and give none." Then they backed their steeds, and spurring them met in the horrid shock of war. Right through the Saracen's ringed, mailed, quilted corselet ran the lance. Down from his horse with a thud dropped Timon, dead. And next Sir Florismart Rode at Arqualis, lord of Altara. At his bidding Arqualis fell. And next at Barzo rode Sir Florismart. Barzo fell. And next Noudeen Formed his mark, and his strong spear pierced the Saracen's breast. Thus Florismart raged. Like a lion amid a timorous press of sheep, or like a bear Ravening on royal beeves. And, spying through the ranks for a man of mark. He noted Turgis, lord of T6rtosa, busily rallying his brigade. Scarce did the regiment, marshalled in symmetry, stand to order, than Florismart, Sweeping on Grandonie, came at a gallop, with lance in rest, at the leader. He, Seeing the Paladin, fled. And Florismart hotly pursued, spurring his horse. Yet the gallant Grandonie, mailed and barbed in armour of heavy steel. Laboured and toiled behind the Saracen, mounted on the fleetest steed That Araby could boast. With a rattling and with a clattering ringing of hoofs. They galloped, the horses, and shouted, the riders, each to its mettle putting his steed. Now would the gallant Grandonie, mailed and barbed all in ponderous steel. Yet have caught the Arab at last. But Turgis, burying his spurs In his smoking courser's flanks, away to the front of the wing in hot haste sped. Seeking the open, deeming that Florismart, raging amid the pastures fair. Scarce would follow him thither, and leave them. Thus he sped him to the front. With delight, he saw his stratagem take. Sir Florismart reined his steed. And let the miscreant go, returning to raven on the teeming fold. In timidity, sped the Saracen out of the lines, and into the open ; And, not deeming safety possible in the left wing any more. Scudded down the lines in front, to the centre of the host. Coming unwittingly to the place, where the might of Malagigi Raged like a torrent, overwhelming horses and men in its copious flood. Ill-starred Turgis sweeping along, and haply deeming safety sure. Lifted his eyes, and saw before him another raging Paladin. Terribly glittered the arms of Malagigi, terrible was his aspect. Like a mountain of brass he blazed in front of Turgis. Turgis, struck With terror ineff'able, reined up his charger, and sprang from his saddle, and grovelling low At the feet of Malagigi, begged for quarter. " I am Turgis, Lord Of Tortosa," thus he timidly chattered. " Twice five hundred teeming ewes Feed in my pastures, and as many comely steers of royal breed. Golden nuggets in ray treasury I can count by fifties. All — All these, and more — my slaves, my squadrons, will I render for my life. Spare me, spare me, mighty Paladin ; grant thy humble slave his life." " Prate not to me ! " cried Malagigi. "Trembling traitor, meet thy fate. Learn from me the lesson of the due reward of perfidy." Thus he spoke, and, raising his ponderous lance, he struck him with the butt A blow terrific. Back rolled Turgis, a lump of dusty corpse. Then as A lion, squeamishly turning from offal to glut his maw with noble prey Again, so Malagigi turned from the dusty lump of Saracen, 24 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And raged back on the lines again, driving them in. As when a man Pushes a rotten wall, that totters and falls in a heap, when once his hand. Backed by a slight exertion, presses it; so Malagigi drove in the lines. And spying Estorgus, a captain of company, waving his scimitar, and rallying his men. He rode at him with his ponderous lance, and spitted him, as a cook a lark; With strength prodigious heaving him out of his saddle, and waving his lifeless trunk Before the eyes of the terrified men. Then, using his Ixjng lance as a club. With the Saracen's body to weight the end, he struck a troop of them as they stood, And bore them down like ninepins. Thus Malagigi raged, making himself Sport. These things not unobserved viewed Roland and Oger from the hill. And thus said Oger to Roland, " Captain, here's rare game, I trow. Would I Were down among them, if but to have my sport like Malagigi there ! And see, there, Turpin ! " — loudly laughed then Oger the Terrible at the sight. For at this instant, burly Turpin, raging in front of the right wing. Struck with his mace a Saracen's head off, and sent it flying in the air. As when a cricketer, Grace or Hornby, at the wickets with his bat Beats the bouncing, buoyant, bounding ball across the meadow wide. He with pleasure views the bounding, bouncing ball, and runs his run. With such grim delight did Turpin view the Saracen's flying head. Thus raged the burly bishop, mixing imprecations, and the threats Of instant conversion to Christianity, with his prowess. Thus raged he. With bat in hand prepared to strike, but ever ready to pass the ball, Should recantation of infidel errors invite the grace of clemency. In this way he assailed a tall and stately Emir with the words : " Down on thy knees, thou infidel miscreant ! Promise to be baptised to-night. And take my blessing on the spot, or off shall go thy heretic head ! " Then the haughty Emir tossing his turbaned top in contempt replied : " Cease thy jargon ecclesiastical, and address thee to the fray." Off went his head. And so to another. He refused. Off went his head. Thus he encountered the Mufti, Siglorel, in the centre of the fight. And thus did Turpin speak : " Grand Mufti, High Priest of the Saracens, Wilt thou confess thy heretic errors, and be a credit to the creed of Christ ? Wilt thou turn Christian, and accept the creed I offer thee ? or die ! " Then the trembling Siglorel, agftd High Priest of the Saracens, said : — " Many the creeds, that spring like flowers in the world's wide wilderness, Roses all of them, breathing the fragrance of the human soul, and sweet Ambrosial odour mounting from the Spirit of the Universe. Yet are some but poor wild roses. Yet for they who know no more, Children of the wilderness, sweet and fragrant smell these roses wild. Then in garden plots and beds, where skilful gardening holds its sway. Spring the perfect roses. Beautiful to the gardeners do they seem. Each to his garden ! Thou thy flowers shalt nurse, and hold them excellent. So I mine. My gardening art can rear no others. And I hold They bear as rich and true a fragrance of the Universal Soul." Thus spoke Siglorel, and thus buriy Turpin addressed him to reply : " Cease thy logic-chopping, wizard ! Once more I enquire of thee, Wilt thou turn Christian, and accept the creed I offer thee ? or die ! " CANTO IV. 2S Then the ag&d Siglorel, High Priest of the Saracens, replied : — " No, Sir Bishop. Never will I barter my creed for my life. 'Tis thine I " Then, with a ponderous blow, the burly Turpin struck him down. He fell, His white beard dabbled with blood, in the dust. And next another Saracen The burly Turpin accosted in parley similar. He alike refused. Off went his head. And so to another. He refused. Off went his head. As when a man, shaking an apple-tree, brings the apples to the ground. So aroundthe burly Turpin dropt the Saracens' falling heads. Thus he raged, and ever did Oger the Terrible, spying the sport from the hill, Laugh uproariously at each new pleasantry passed on the Saracens below. Thus did Turpin with mace, like racquet, rage in front of the right wing. But now Sir Rojand and Sir Oger, from the eminence where they stood, Beheld a sight of different nature, that did fill them with concern. For, at the back of the right wing, where the knights and. barons bold Had penetrated from the centre, led by their captain, brave Sir Beuve, When, with echelon symmetrical, from a thousand points poured out The Prankish host of grizzly veterans, barons, and belted knights of fame. Streaming in lines of steady obliquity from a common centre on — Here the belted knights and barons had marshalled their ranks under brave Sir Beuve, And doing doughty deeds of prowess fought with excellent renown. Gallantly stemming the stream of infidels, gallantly bearing themselves in the hash Of battle. Well pleasing to the eyes of Roland were the deeds of the gallant knights. But now Sir Roland and Sir Oger saw, from the eminence where they stood, A champion among them. Valorous Valdabrun, the Corsair King, Master he of twice four hundred ships that scour the sea for prey. Had marshalled his embattled corsairs. Thousands on thousands they seemed to be. Right to the ravines at the back, and up them, they reached, — a river of men. He, in the midst of the Prankish ranks, raged like a boar, when goaded by The spears of the hunters, the fangs of the dogs, he bares his tusks, and lolls his tongue. And ramps at random in blind havoc. So raged Valdabrun among the Franks. And now Sir Beuve, spurring his steed, shouted to him, " King Valdabrun, I here defy thee to single combat. Hither come, and meet thy fate." Nothing said Valdabrun in reply, but rushed at his foe. The brave Sir Beuve Backed his steed, and spurred it stoutly. Right at Valdabrun's breast he drove The pointed lance. The lance snapped, like a reed, against the bull's-hide wraps That met it. Valdabrun seized Sir Beuve, with strength prodigious, round the waist. And dashed him to the ground, as should a ruffian seize a little child, Intent on murder, and, lifting it high in the air, dash it to earth. So fell Sir Beuve. Stunned he lay. Valdabrun, leaping from horse, bestrode him with a knife. Sir Beuve, opening his bright eyes glazed in death, whispered unconscious about His lady love. " The tourney is sounding — the heralds— a chaplet— my Azalais. My love, thou'rt late to-day of coming." Valdabrun gloated over the knight. Leaning his ear down to catch the whispers, and then with a roar of laughter cried, "Oho! what gallant ! He prattles of lady loves. These are the combatants fit for you. Ye silken knights, adepts at courting, and storming hearts for citadels. Women and eunuchs, thus I treat you ! " So, with a curse, he plunged his knife. Reeking, into the brave knight's breast. Then mounting his horse he spurred at the one. Who stood anext him. Walter d'Amulier 'twas, a gallant knight of Sens. £ 26 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Walter met him in full career, shouting, " Thou miscreant, by my hand 'Tis destined that thou fall." And with sharp lance planted his blow at Valdabrun's breast. Again the faithless weapon snapped. Down on the earth fell Walter, cleft From head to thigh. And next Sir Avolio rode at Valdabrun. In vain ! As when a troop of valorous hunters try in vain with pointed spears To pierce the armoured hide of a frenzied boar. Again and again they prove Their brittle spears, and urge their dogs against the monster. Until at last. Calling away their dogs, with hunting-knives unsheathed, and formed in serried Phalanx, they advance their glittering blades up to his very snout. So marshalled, with glittering swords unsheathed, the Prankish chivalry, in phalanx firm. Advanced at Valdabrun, and drove him off— further and further from their lines. He, loth to go, foaming with rage, oft turned, but as oft the moving hedge Of glittering blades pricked him ; and thus they slowly drove him from the field. " Did I not tell you," cried Sir Roland, on the eminence where he stood Conferring with Oger, " Did I not tell ye, how well they would comport themselves ? " Gallantly done, ray valiant gentlemen ! Gallantly planned, an d carried out As gallantly ! Brave hearts ! ye need no assistance now." Then Oger said, " And with but little loss, it seemeth. Now the squadrons are formed again, But little different in complexion and in numbers they seem to be. Yet one or two were down." Thus they confabulating on the eminence. " See at the corsairs ! " Roland exclaimed, " how they stream at the back of the wing. Right up the ravines do I spy them, a river of men. Aha ! What rneans That movement? They are eddying round to the back of the centre." Here they threw Their eyes along the back of the centre, and so to the left wing, where they saw Sir Florismart, like a beleaguered city, surrounded. A movement strategical Had taken place with the Emir's flank and the copious battalions of Barbary, Whereby Sir Florismart was surrounded — between two armies hemmed. As when. With files and squares and lines and squadrons, in serried continuity Marshalled, a city lies blockaded. Past is the time for sallies, past The hour for bold sorties, but silent it sits, awaiting its succour or doom. CANTO V. Suddenly Sir Florismart raised his tall lance high in the air, and waving it Signalled. As when, in the city beleaguered, a flag is hung from out the walls, To attract the notice of distant friends, and show them that urgency is afoot. That sight endured not Oger the Terrible, unobeyed; but grasping his axe. That dangled at his saddle-bow, he said to Roland, " Chief, I am off ! I go to rescue from these miscreants the gallantest knight in Christendom. Often together have vows of amity passed between us in days gone by. And many the gallant and gay adventure that he and I have rode upon. Now comes another, most peremptory,— enforced, not sought by either, yet That calls at once to crying action our terms of martial brotherhood. Suffer me therefore, leader, this wished scope of arms— to back return With him, the noblest of our company, the chosen brother of my soul. CANTO V. 27 Once more we'll baulk all opposition, once more will we convince the eyes Of those who dare us, what an invincible pair are we, when side by side We fight, each supplementing by knowledge familiar the tactics of his friend. Strange friends ! — strange champions ! — Oger and Florismart — so odd contrasted for a pair I In life, mien, manners, in all but war, whoe'er would place us in a scale? He, polished gold, I, rough as heather — I will not scruple to avow 't ; He, preux-chevalier of our courtly company, and its rudest soldier I. Yet that but knots my vows the stronger ; though babbling tongues can't make it out. Why, at the court of King Tungtisis of Norway, where we two had come On some gay expedition of errantry, I forget precisely what Our business was, — knowest thou what they called us, and what they likened us to ? They called him the sun and me the thundercloud. Was't not excellent ? Thus did they Liken us." Loudly Oger laughed at the thought. "Thus did they liken us. And said they wondered to find the sun and the thundercloud in company. Was't not excellent ? Is not Florismart a very sun, a princely soul. The beau ideal to all beholders of all that's fair in chivalry ? Aye ! a pattern to all and every, and, more than all, a pattern to me, Learning me lessons, that with docility I from him could well receive. But from no other. Let no pliant posture-master prate away Of crooking courtesy to Oger the Terrible, lecturing me on manners and mien, Teachings bear to dance — eh, leader? But with him 'tis different. But no more words. Bespeed me ! " Thus, slapping his breast, he spoke. "Now I am off. I go to rescue from these miscreants the noblest knight in Christendom." Grimly Sir Oger rode to the carnage, bestriding his charger Gorjabron, His axe in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding — a very tower of steel. Grimly he rode across the champain to the left of the enemies' lines. Where the embattled battalions of Barbary mustered their serried ranks and files. Into the serried battalions of Barbary Oger plunged, and stalked along. As when a man through a tangled forest, where brambles and branches stop advance, Treads them down and crunches them, forcing his way to the place where he would be. So moved Oger through the tangled battalions towards Sir Florismart. As when a brawny robber, stalking at ease through a solitary wood, Meets at a turning a timid traveller — unexpected interview ! In timidity, the terrified traveller falls upon his knee. Offers his purse most readily, begging the brigand to take it, and spare his life ; So to Oger, on the road to Sir Florismart, Blisalis, Lord of Malakhool, Busily mustering his battalion, suddenly turned, and saw the giant. Down on his knee fell Blisalis quaking, and begged Sir Oger to spare his life. " Prate not to me ! " cried Oger the Terrible, and, with a stroke of his ponderous axe. Crushed, like a nutshell, the skull of Blisalis. On he stalked, nor looked him round. As when a brawny robber stalking at ease through a solitary wood, Meets at a turning a timid traveller — so to Oger, the Count of Dhoon, Riding from one square to its neighbour to bid them move their forces up. Suddenly stumbled on the giant ; face to face he stood. Aghast, v Down on his knee fell the Saracen quaking, and begged imploringly for his life. " Prate not to me ! " cried Oger the Terrible, and, with a stroke of his ponderous axe. Cleft him asunder. On he stalked on his terrible journey, nor looked him round ; Treading and breaking the battalions of Saracens, forcing their ranks to open for him. 28 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Thus stalked Oger the Terrible onwards, on his way to Sir Florismart. These things not unobserved saw Roland, from the eminence where he stood, And how each moment nearer the giant drew to the beleaguered Paladin. Nor did his eyes leave unremarked an unexpected spectacle, How the voluminous river of corsairs, deserting fast the barons' lines On the right, were steadily eddying round at the back of the centre towards the left. " Have a care ! " thus muttered Roland. " Have a care, Oger ! It likes me not. This wavy voluminous river of corsairs, streaming round to thy neighbourhood. Even now by an 6blique movement they might intercept thy way. Look around thee, man ! Nay, 'tis not possible. So much credit I will not give To their sagacity. There they blindly eddy along with Valdabrun at Their head. Mere purposeless whirlpools." Thus was Roland communing on the hill. As when a traveller, advancing through a thick entangled wood, Where branches and brambles closely interlaced together stop the way, Treads them down, and tramples them, making his way to the place where he would be, So moved Oger through the tangled battalions towards Sir Florismart. As when a traveller, advancing through a thick entangled wood, Suddenly spies a clearing in front of him ; with deUght he issueth from The mess of clawing brambles, and lightly over the green sward steppeth he. If by chance he spieth a poppy or a dandelion on his way. He flirts off in sport the head with his walking-stick. So did Oger step along In an acre clear of serried companies, with but stragglers scattered about. Flirting in sport with his axe the few who came in his way as he strode along. With delight, does the happy traveller spy in the distance, embosomed in trees. The stately castle, the goal of his journey, where his mission must be discharged ; So did Oger espy Sir Florismart in his last battalion of spears Deep embosomed, and every moment with delight he nearer drew. As when the inmates of a castle, looking down from the turrets high. Watch a traveller over the meadows to the castle wending his way. So Sir Florismart saw Sir Oger, and signed in recognition ; as when The castle inmates from the turret wave their hands and kerchiefs to The advancing traveller. He hath already reached so near, he can make out The faces on the castle's tower, and courteously waves him in reply. Scanning the faces wistfully, if by chance among them he may espy A friend. Suddenly, roaring like the bore of an estuary as It rushes up the narrow strait, foaming and seething, a river of men Swept down on Oger, and enveloped him in their waves, flooding the space Around him with hundreds of tossing curbans and seething bodies. He, like a horse Ploughing up with his hoofs the waves of an angry river, that bears him down. Despite himself, in the current, manfully breasted the press, and fought his way Across it, steadily making for his point, and swerving not a hair's Breadth from his track." " Gallantly done ! " cried Roland, breathless on the hill. " Keep to thy mark, my gallant Paladin. Swerve not, or the stream may bear Thee anywhere. Nay ! these are fine times, truly, when a Paladin Stands menaced. My spirit rises incensed. Ha! why that swerving from thy course ?" For at this instant Oger, spying Valdabrun, the Corsair King, Like a boat dancing on the waves, amidst his followers, turned and made At him, and as if seizing the boat by the gunwale, and fiercely shaking it. CANTO V. 29 So shook he Valdabrun with his left, and with his right hand raising his axe He cleft him asunder, seaming him down from top to toe. Aghast from the wreck Started the corsairs, rolling in waves away. As on dry land in the midst, Oger stood, and defied them, roaring in tones of thunder louder than The surf that raged around. Now, roused to prowess, the giant strikes out amain, Leaves horrid hollows in the seething mass, and rages fiercer than The whole battalion. But suddenly dropping his axe, and buckling his rage in bands Of iron, he turned from the carnage begun, and gallantly plunged in the waves once more. Making steadily for his point, nor swerving a hair's breadth from his course. But now the waves ran thicker and higher, — in such constant eddies poured Into the acres around him, the turbulent, tossing flood of swarthy men. As when a river, up-dammed by a landslip, leaving its proper course, pours down Its flood of belching water into a fallow field low-lying, so Streamed in terrible torrent the corsairs into the acres around the giant. And still he fought and battled his way across them to Sir Florismart. Ever stronger grew the river, till it seemed a very sea. He upon it like a gallant frigate riding seemed afar To Roland's eyes. And Roland, observing, thus spoke to his mighty soul : — " Unexpectedly have the corsairs by this flank manoeuvre brought A stratagem to issue. Credit none could I have given them For such dexterity. But the fortune of fight has smiled on them in this. They have triumphed in a tactic carefully plaimed, and carried out As carefully. Not a purposeless whirlpool was the movement that I saw. But a deliberate pi«ce of strategy, well directed, and well achieved. Credit certainly may the caitiiFs for their clever cunning crave. Now might I well trust my pair of gallant Paladins, single-handed, to Upset this crafty piece of strategy, doubtless the great stroke of the day. But yet it seems I should send auxiliaries. Much however would it grieve Their gallant hearts, if I, as if distrusting their high prowessy. Should send them help too early, and before assistance was required — Or if I should send help at all. Fain would I leave it to themselves." Thus he mused, casting his eyes over the host below him, to Espy who best he might despatch, should e'er assistance be required. As when the sea, swelling in rolling flood, with heavy billows heaves. Such was the swelling sea of corsairs, so in billows heaved they. As when a swimmer, far out at sea, afar from land and pleasant shore. All alone in the midst of the waves, lustily buffets them with strong arms. Knowing that, should he a moment falter, treacherous gulfs do yawn around ; So was Oger lustily buffeting, on his way to Sir Florismart. " Much will it grieve them, indeed, if I, as if in distrust of their prowess high. Send assistance, despatch auxiliaries. Fain would I leave it to themselves ! . Aye ! I can almost hear their voices, when the fight is over, say. Unkind Roland, thus to doubt us. Say, what cause have we given thee Thus to question our abilities? Have we ever at peril recoiled? Have we ever called for aid in danger, brother ? Nay, 'tis unkind. This well meant action, mistaken kindness, has brought but sorrow and grief to us.' Thus they will plead — no groundless pleading. Nay! I must leave it to themselves. Think of myself in their position 1 For awhile, at least, they may 30 TSE death OE ROLAND. Stem it and battle it, as they list. Not without due cause will I Offend their honour. So for awhile, then, let them fight the fight themselves." As when the sea, made rough by a tempest, rages angrily and roars, Such was the tossing sea of corsairs, raging in angry waves about. As when a strong man, breasting the angry waves, to reach a foundering wreck. Whereon stands his child, doth buffet them fiercely, with desperate resolve. Sternly setting his teeth : his white face shows above the billow's crest ; Such was the face of Oger now on his way to Sir Florismart, " Nay, indeed, they are all too chivalrous," thus mused Roland, " for to play The game of war aright. First this one's scruples, then the next's, must be Considered and forefended. Hardly will general follow up his plan Of fight aright, with such all-daring courage to reckon on, that he needs Must humour it in defiance of strategy. Thus has it been before, how oft ! Well I remember the last occasion, when Astolpho and Malagigi Ramped alone at an army of Saracens. For that I e'en proposed to send Assistance, loudly they pleaded of tarnished honour, and the Paladins, Shaking their hot heads, gravely declared that death had been better received than aid. Chivalrous spirits ! nay, all too chivalrous. So now, willing would I send aid To Oger there, entangled so terribly does he seem. Yet now, as oft Before, I draw me back with a Nay ! when my better reason tells me Yea ! Ha! brave boy, keep thy head above them ! So. Another minute, and Aid goes, despite thee. Another such pass. So ! Keep to thy course, man. Keep thy head up. Now breast it stoutly. Oger ! Oger ! Thy terrible rashness ruins thee. Why turn aside like that? To strike at catifFs, eh ? Leave them. Again? Nay, he's not striking. Wherefore this eddying ? God ! They carry him away ! They sweep him away ! A moment 'twas like it. But no ! no ! I'll put an end To this tomfoolery. Here," to an aide-de-camp, " Here, good Gaston," thus he spoke, " Instantly ride to Sir Malagigi in the centre at the front. Bid him at once dispatch on an errand of urgency. Bid him cut his way To the left of the host, and give aid to Sir Oger, terribly entangled there. Speed thee ! " Thus he said to the aide-de-camp, and continued to himself: " 'Troth, and I was almost startled at that business over there. So precarious an appearance made reality possible. Aye, I grant me somewhat startled. For a moment did I feel Qualms and misgivings upon me. A little startled, I yield me to have been." As when some strong swimmer, toiling in a trough of the boiling sea. Blinded by the surf that showers around him, encumbered in the waves. Throws up his arms for a moment in agony, ere he begins his struggle again. Ere he begins his hopeless struggle with the elements, he throws up His arms in deprecation, then addresses himself to swimming anew. Striking at randomj battling fearfully in the agony of despair. So was Oger fearfully battling in that terrible surge around. " Nay, indeed, they are all too chivalrous, for to play the game of war Aright. And hardly, I grant you, will general follow up his plan of fight, With such all-daring courage to reckon on, that he needs must humour it In defiance of strategy. So now these two champions over there, Oger and Florismart, each on his errand of headstrong daring, have recklessly plunged Into the enemies' lines for a frolic. Florismart's made fine work of it. CANTO V. 31 Aye ! that he has, in his forest of saplings. But these fooleries must cease. Am I to suffer them all, like a parcel of wilful schoolboys, to romp about, Each on his errand of headstrong daring, at wayward fancy here and there, Romping and playing the truant? No! soothly, 'tis time these fooleries had ceased. And in the left wing, where my pair of champions sport in their playground fair, The appearance of Malagigi will show them that holiday-time is at an end. And work begins. Thus has it been, how oft before ! How oft have I, In brotherly weakness or admiration, allowed full let to their gallantry — Too easy chief! drawing back with a Nay ! when my better reason told me Yea ! " Now it was at this point of the battle that Sir Florismart, I say, at this point of the battle Sir Florismart was suddenly seen to fall. Like a tower, he fell. As when besiegers with axes and crowbars assail a tower. With crowbars loosening the foundations of solid slabs of stone, and with Their axes hacking it round. Hundreds of them are busily at work. Little by little the strong foundations are eased and loosened. The good tower Topples and falls. So fell Sir Florismart. This saw Roland, and striking his brow He cried, " God ! a Paladin down ? Now earth give us prodigies ! Florismart killed ? Nay, then my spirit tattles to me to address me to revenge. Buckle my soul to deeds of carnage ! Prime up my heart to pitiless rage ! Vengeance shall stalk at large insufPrable, and raven. Havoc, I set thee free ! " Thus he spoke, preparing for the fray; and turning his eyes to the place Where Oger was, he saw him no more, but far in the distance eddying And floundering on the surface of a retreating stream, which now was sweeping Swiftly and steadily to the back of the centre of the host. And Roland cried : — " Hal Another something to swell my vengeance ! Another Paladin doomed ! Where is the malapert Malagigi ? Wherefore not at his comrade's side. Striking blows and dealing death in storms ? Damnation ! Would I were there ! " But he saw the valorous Malagigi already had reached the spot He had commanded him to make for. In spite of hordes, through fifty ranks Embattled, had brave Malagigi cut his way, and stood on the spot Too late ! For Oger now far away in the distance floating on the sea Of seething corsairs eddied. Right at the back of the centre now was he Swimming. And Roland stamping his foot raved out, " Too late ! And yet the giant Lives. See! he rises on them. God! what a hollow ! that means death For dozens. The fiends ! they sweep him round at the back of the centre towards the right. Seeking t' entangle him in the ravines there. They get him round. They will Entangle him. Right up the passes they'll sweep him. Ha ! what means that line of light Coming adown the passes steadily ? " For he espied a thin line of light Up the passes, coming down steadily. " Ha ! what means that line of light ? Shields! by Jupiter ! Another army ! " Scarce had he spoken, when suddenly Down the passes and on every side of them, at back and front of them, and of the valley broad, Roared the din of music military, and slowly converging down the defiles. With pennons fluttering, and trumpets braying, another Saracen army came. Thus saw he, and simultaneously spied Astolpho pricking up the slope. Astolpho said, " I come from Oliver. He has bid me haste to thee. Reinforcements arrive for the infidel host. Thus Oliver bids me say. By the suns on their shields he knows them. They are the King of the Indies' troops. The King of the Indies himself with his valorous champion, Chernubles, leads them on. 32 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. With him marches the great Count Margaris, lord of Sibilie over the sea. Bordering on Tunis. Also the Prince of Tunis rides at his vassal's side; Also tlie Almasour of Mauritania with his swarthy bands of Moors ; Also the Emir of Algiers, Timozel — these and many more have come." Then said Roland, " The whole of Araby is upon us. Yet stay a jot. Cast thy eyes, child, to the back of the right, and in front of the advancing host. What dost thou see? " And, as they looked, they saw the circling eddy of men. With Oger rising and falling amongst them, sweep to the front of the ravines, and Impinge on the new battalions. Right into the jaws of the advancing host was the giant Precipitated. Again and again did he rise on the surging flood, like an oak Caught and whirled in a torrent. Around it the boiling waves rush up and lash Its brawny sides, retiring foaming to renew redoubled shocks. The royal tree spins dizzily like a cork in the whirlpool. On rush the waves. Barking, in angry multitudes striking it. So spun the giant in the sea Of Saracens. " No human aid can save him now, Astolpho. See ! A royal sight 's before thee, boy. A hero dies. Heroes die hard." 'Twas seen that Oger still lived on the flood — his arms aloft, his axe Falling in tempests of death. Still struggling, again and again does the giant rise. At last he sinks to rise no more. Then Roland said to Astolpho, " Now ! " Fiercely Sir Roland rode to the carnage, bestriding his charger, Valleantif, His lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding — a very tower of steel. Lovely Astolpho pricked at his side, bestriding his high-mettled steed, Malvair, His lance in his hand, and his gay plume glancing. Like Zeus and Mercury .they seemed. When through the buoyant, circumambient air, together sweeping, bent On some dread errand of retribution, down from Olympus' top they hie. He, the Olympian monarch, grasping a thousand thunderbolts, and armed In panoply of heaven, dreadfully drives along, gloomy as night. By his side, the wingfed messenger floats, and points to him the way. Where the dread deed of retribution is required. With tufted wings Lighdy cleaving the ambient air. His matchless shape of symmetry Divine, bending and arching on the wind ; his lovely face aspires. In calm expectancy of some great deed soon to be wrought by his High master. Round his brow, his curls play in the breeze. Such was the port Of young Astolpho. So he seemed. So played his curls around his brow. Down they drive in dreadful whirlwind, and the ranks wide open roll To give them passage, yawning an alley continuous right from front- to rear. As if the wind of their velocity, puffing in front of them, had blown the host Asunder. On they drive, and never swerve a hair's breadth from their mark. The staff of the advancing host, who now conferring together stood Ranged in a ring round the King of the Indies. He in the midst laid down his plans : '' You, Count Margaris, will betake yourself to the centre with your troops. And there support the Emir of Balaghoot, sore distressed as he seems to be. Thou, Almasour of Mauritania, fall to the back, and hold thy men In apt reserve, ready to concentrate on any point when orders corrie. Thou, Emir of Algiers, trusty Timozel, I prithee move thy forces round At the back of the centre to the left, and support the battalions of Barbary. I myself, with the Prince of Tunis, along with my champion, Chernubles the brave. Move at once to the right, confronting the squares of Prankish chivalry. CANTO F. 33 Who stand there marshalled." Thus he issued his orders, the which his staff received. With criticism apt and comment amending this, suggesting that. The monarch heard, and now accepted, now rejected the hints preferred. Thus they stood, discussing their tactics, and more might have stayed, when suddenly. Through the yawning phalanx around them, into the midst of them Roland drove. As when a bomb-shell, cracking and spluttering, falls in the midst of a company Of close packed soldiers, they confusedly hither and thither in panic fly : Such confusion arose in the infidel staff at the sight of the Paladin Raging amidst them. Yet never a motion could they make, or turn to flee, Before he had grasped the King of the Indies, with his left hand seizing him by The silver belt that girt his middle, and tearing him off his saddle he shook Him fiercely, holding him sideways — sight of terror to those around — and cried, " Thus, ye dastards, I meet your strategy. Thus shall your plans of war be marred. Even as I now mar your general, giving him over to vultures and dogs." Then drawing his glittering sword from its ivory scabbard, he raised it aloft in the air Over the neck of the king, and shouted, " Who will dare to interpose ? Who in this vasty host will venture to come between my prey and me ? Who will venture to raise a finger in defence of his general i Who ? Who dare deprecate his punishment ? A word ! — a whisper ! — Then, ye agree He justly dies the death of traitors. Then, with your eyes behold his doom !" Thus as he spoke, he swung his glittering sword in horrid circle aloft, And brought it down on the kingly neck. Down dropped the head. He flung the trunk Loathing aside. And turned remorseless to rage on the others. And first the Prince Of Tunis came in his way. With his glittering sword he shore him asunder, from top To toe seaming him down. And next at the Emir of Algiers, Timozel, He rode, up-spurring his charger, and couching the terrible length of his ashen spear. Right through the Saracen's ringM, mailfed, quilted corselet ran the lance. Down in the dust with a thud fell Timozel, dead. Meanwhile Astolpho raged Among the Saracens, like a star. And, first, at the Count of Sibilie, Proud Margaris, he rode. But Margaris waited his onset not, but rode Athrough the ranks away. And next at the Indian vizier, Sassameen, Spurred Astolpho, and laid him easily low, spearing him through. And next At Vastian he rode, the Emir's champion. Vastian bit the dust. And next at Kaldiman he rode, lord of Plethna. Kaldiman fell. And next Almanzor dropped at his bidding. And next the Count of Azzareen Fell at Astolpho's bidding. And Faltira fell before Astolpho's spear. And next he rode at burly Boltaris. Boltaris, firm in his saddle, stood The shock, and gathering impudent courage taunted : " Men-at-arms and full Grown knights must measure themselves with me — not boys-at-arms and striplings. Go ! Go, beardless child, and play with ladies ! Pretty pages are in request I dare be sworn in France by hundreds." Close to the side of Boltaris Shot Astolpho, and raising his silvery sword he let it fall on his helm. Down in the dust with a thud dropped Boltaris, dead. Thus did Astolpho rage Among the Saracens, like a star. And meanwhile Roland in the rear Was dealing destruction and havoc, and scattering squadrons, like chaff before the breeze. Where he rode, there was shouting of captains, and breaking of companies, terrible rout. And foul disorder. Thus did Roland rage in the rear, spreading abroad Like a torrent overwhelming horses and men in its copious flood. 34 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Or as when a frenzied lioness, robbed of her cubs, has hied her down, Maddened with grief and blind with rage, to an African village, to glut her thirst For vengeance on any and all. The villagers scattering fly on every side. The flocks and herds, stabled in koraal and stall, plunge restive in terror. And oft Do villagers unexpectedly meet her, and, flying, curse the insolent hand That robbed her of her royal whelps. Thus ragfed Roland in the fight. But now he turned him from the carnage, and rode about the field to view His men at battle, and encourage their gallantry by his presence. And Thus he first encountered Turpin, who, he found, had forced his way Through the whole right wing, and joined him with the barons in the rear. Here fought Turpin, leading the barons and belted knights of fame to war. "Well done, bishop ! " cri'ed Sir Roland, "drive the caitiffs back, but keep Thy bold battalions from out the passes. Let not their zeal o'ercarry them. Take this as the best injunction I can give thee." Then he rode Adown the ranks, conversing cheerfully. " Pretty pounding, gentlemen ! Yet will ye, that I know assuredly, give them better than ye take." Then, as their leader passed, the belted knights and barons gave a cheer. For he seemed like the sun a-shining mid the ranks of war. Thence he forced his way through the infidel swarm at the back of the centre, and So towards the left of the battling battalions he hied him, where Malagigi Raged alone. Like a mountain of brass, did Roland spy him from afar. " He can be left meanwhile," said Roland. " Shortly however I join him there. And shoulder to shoulder we'll fight. How gallantly doth he stand amid the throng. And drive the waves from off him ! Now to the centre fain am 1 to hie. Where the veterans, with valiant Oliver at their head, do bravely fight." Thus saying, he sharply turned, and obliquely forced his way to the centre, where First he encountered a band of gallant veterans, who, detached from the main Body, fought together in excellent order, stemming the tide of war. And here Sir Roland first found carnage among his gallant Frankish men. Full twenty bodies of gallant soldiers did he count on the grass around. And thus said Roland to a veteran : '■ Francis Beaulieu, who did bid Ye fight apart thus from the others? " Then the veteran replied : — " Captain, Sir Oliver ordered us hither, to cover the flank of the main brigade. Thus the veteran spoke in answer. " Well," said Roland, " then 'tis well. But stay not still. Keep constantly moving hither and thither along the flank. See ye not that your foes, discomfited, fly at your onset at once away. While with impunity they from a distance, if ye stand, can shower their darts, Dealing havoc. Much it grieves me to see these bodies of gallant Franks Strewing the grass around. What means this? " Then the veterans replied : — " Captain, we all of us well have batded. No faint hearts may here be found. Well have we done, and well have we borne us." " And can do better. Spy ye that point ? " Thus said Roland. " Make for it ! Make for it ! I will view ye from afar. Now 1 wager, that in ten minutes ye'U not reach that point." Thus he Spoke, inciting to deeds of prowess, and rode adown the lines. And thus Said the veterans to one another, " Is he not a gallant chief? Like the sun he seemeth moving among the stormy ranks of war." Then Sir Roland rode him away afrom this gallant company. And lifting his eyes then, in the distance he saw Oliver, like a ram. CANTO V. 35 Leading the veterans to the combat, like a ram leading the flock. The sheep behind, mustering closely, follow in strict obedience. And he leads them to the well-known pasture. They, arrived there, browse. So did Oliver lead the veterans to the battle. So did they Browse on the Saracens. Then Sir Roland, riding up towards the brigade. Spoke to the rear rank men, not yet immersfed in the carnage, thus Speaking to one : " Good Adam GrossetSte, let me hear, I prithee, how The fortune of fight hath used ye all. How go the favours of the day? " Then answered the doughty veteran : " Captain, there have fallen Jacques Balaud, Roger Nismois, Lubin of Picardy, and my major, Hugh de Rand, Martin Tornier, Jean Cavaillon, gallant Captain De la Mole, Aimiri Belmont, who fell after fighting a good hour with only the hilt Of his sword to come and go on, having broken the blade against A bony Saracen's rascally ribs, Laufron Cigala, Hugues de St. Cyr, Mathieu Querci, Robin Magret — Ah ! good Robin, we were all Right sorry to see him fall. The merriest tongue, the lightest heart had he In the whole regiment. But there — he's done with now. And many a gallant heart Beside has ceased to beat —good Andrew Pallizer, Bertrand Born, the oldest Sergeant in the regiment, and others too that I could tell thee of. Aye ! I should say there must have fallen, speaking roughly, fifty quite," Then said Roland, " Fifty bonny boys of battle on the grass ! Now curses on the traitors, who conspired to bring this seethy work Upon my beauties. Gallant fellows ! Aye ! they fell right royally. When they did fall, that I wot me. Their faces to the foe, eh, Adam ? " " Every man of them. Captain." " Aye ! Aye ! well I know it, Adam, well. And what brought Bertrand Born to ruin ? Honest heart ! I grieve me much To think him down — the regiment's grandsire, too; — we've lost a world in him." " 'Twas a shower of cursfed missiles, captain. He, the colour sergeant. Grasping his flag, was from the first the mark of every javelin. Some hit, some missed, and little heeded he, until there came a shower. Too well directed, that played bo-peep with every joint in his armour, and he Fought like a porcupine for awhile, until at last he drooped and fell." " Brave Bertrand ! And Andrew Pallizer, Adam ? " " He, my lord, the Emir slew, The green-topped, turban'd Emir of Balaghoot. He's a doughty warrior. He it was killed Robin Magret, and at least a dozen more. Aye ! could'st thou but see Sir Oliver hunting him. 'Tis a sight, I trow. Well does the Emir fight, and gallantly, till he sees Sir Oliver Approaching his proximity. Suddenly then he dives into the ranks, And's lost to sight in a jiffy. Sir Oliver presses on, and hunts him up. But not as yet has he managed to catch him, though he's hunted him all the day." Here, as the veteran spoke, a loud prolonged cheering from the front Made itself plainly heard, apd presently down the ranks there came the word. That brave Sir Oliver had that moment slain the Emir of Balaghoot, Having caught him at last, after a-chevying him the livelong day. Then said Roland, " Well, good Adam, there's sport in front, and thither I go. But thou — see ! dost thou spy that Saracen waving his banner over there ? Fetch me that banner, good Adam. Thou'lt find me presently by Sir Oliver's side.' Thus he spoke, inciting to deeds of prowess, and, passing through the ranks 36 THE DEATH OF ROLANJ). ^ On to the front, he spoke to the veterans, as to the others at first, and bade Them still keep moving hither and thither about the field, and stand not still. Saw they not that their foes, discomfited, fled at their onset at once away. While with impunity they from a distance, if they stood, could shower their darts. Dealing havoc. Much it grieved him to see the bodies of gallant Franks Strewing the grass around. What meant it? Then the veterans replied. That well and stoutly they all had battled. No faint hearts might there be found. Well had they done, and well had borne them. And could do better, was the reply. Let them not tell him of best where bodies were. They could do better far, he knew. Each for himself was poor palaver. Each for his brother was the word. What ? in face of so feeble a foe, — surely it had not come to this. That each man so absorbed in the battle was, that he could not lend a hand To a comrade in distress ? But would they make amends for what he saw. Then let him, next time that he passed them, find as many dozen down Of Saracens, as now he numbered his poor Franks singly, a dozen for each. Thus he spoke, inciting to deeds of prowess, and passing through the ranks He came at last to Oliver's neighbourhood. There he saw the Paladin, Amid a ring of admiring veterans, standing over his fallen foe. The green-topp'd Emir. They were lustily huzzaing, and Oliver stood Exultant, for no cowardly caitiff was the Emir of Balaghoot, But the doughtiest Saracen champion yet on the field. And all day long Had Oliver hunted him. Now triumphantly he at last had struck him down. He on the instant spied Roland advancing, and with all haste to meet him came. " Welcome, thrice welcome, Roland my comrade ! " thus said Oliver. " Much have I yearned To see thy face, and hear from thee how goes the general fortune of The day. Astolpho came to thee in good time, bearing my message ? " Then Roland answered, "Aye! Astolpho came." -Then Oliver said, " And rare Havoc have ye played together, that I warrant me, with the new Auxiliaries." " Aye i " said Roland. " We have played rare havoc." Then Oliver, Looking in Roland's face, " My compagnon," thus said Oliver, " what is on Thy mind? Have I, unknowing, in aught offended thee, that thus thou stand'st, Humming and hawing, and replying in such cold parley to thy friend ? " Then said Roland sternly, " Oliver, frankly I will confess to thee That thy prowess doth not content me." " My prowess not content thee, Roland ? " " So it is," said Roland. " Thou echoest my words in tune unto my thoughts. I have heard — the rear rank men have told me — why, 'tis common talk Through the battalion, the excellent fun and room for mirth that thou hast giv'n By thy performances. Hark ye, Oliver I 'Tis but poor sport thou'st been at. Hunting this green-topp'd turbaned Emir half the day, wasting thy powers, Thy precious powers, in steeplechasing. Man of mettle ! what mean'st thou ? Is war a game that we can afford to palter with it, that we can afford To waste our moments in tantiveying after foxes from morn till eve? ." " Nay, Roland, nay, thou speakest harshly," thus said Oliver in reply. "Thou speakest harshly, my compagnon. Other things have I done beside. Look at this vacant acreage round me. Doth it extend afar enough ? All this ground my arms have cleared." " Then," said Roland, " clear the field ! Thou canst, thou know'st thou canst, if thou tryest." Then said Oliver, " Clear the field ? " " Aye 1 " said Roland, " clear the field 1 I prattle no nonsense to thee, man. caNto vi. ii If thou art still what I have known thee, then thou'lt not stand parleying, But thou'lt be up and doing instantly. Thou'lt not brook this speaking to ; But, making causeless my upraiding, thou'lt take the challenge, and clear the field. Meanwhile I to Malagigi, on the left wing of the host. Will go, and render what assistance these poor arms can lend to him." CANTO VI. THE OLIVERIAD. Then swelled the princely soul of Sir Oliver. In his breast desire arose For desperate battle. Therefore turning to Roland he said, " My comrade dear. Well art thou skilled in instilling courage into the laziest breast, yet no Such lazy breast is mine, thou knowest. Primed to the full with doughty heart May I my body boast. No hieing and hounding on to valorous deeds My spirit e'er hath craved. Full freely I rush to the conflict, and my joy Waxes amain in battle. Banquet of bellowing boldness, am I not Thy glutton ? Who with larger appetite falls to the fray than I ? Who takes His fill there more approvingly ? This thou knowest. Yet I will confess. That these, thy speeches, my compagnon, have struck new spirit in my veins. Have swelled my heart to bigness almost unknown before. I clear the field ? And all alone ? Nay, 'tis a piece of brotherly kindness, this, a boon Worthy of Roland's giving. Generous heart, I thank thee for it, and take The gift with readiness, and thy friendly challenge I accept with joy. Thou sayst, ' If I am what thou hast alway known me,' but I tell thee, that Thou'lt find me more. An opportunity like the present, such as thou Hast royally opened to me, scarcely again and never before have I In all my fights had possible. Therefore, retire to where thou spokest of. And side by side with gallant Malagigi breast the fight, the while I clear the field. Adieu ! my comrade, for an interval."— Thus he spoke— " I burn to be up and doing. Roland, adieu ! my compagnon." Thus he spoke, and Grimly he rode to the carnage, bestriding his high-mettled courser, Baxabole, His lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding — a very tower of steel. Grimly he rode him along, espying about through the ranks for a man of mark. And thus espying he noted Chernubles, the King of the Indies' champion brave. Tall and stately stalked Chernubles, a very colossus amongst the throng. Mounted on high on his war-horse, Calbarin. Strange was Chernubles to behold. Fearful was his asplct. His matted and dangling hair fell to his knees. Around the horse's flanks did the matted and danghnghair of Chernubles fall. Strange were the stories men told of him. Never, 'twas said, in his land did the raindrops fall. Never a d.ewdrop fell in the morning, never the moisture went up at eve, Neither corn, nor fruit, nor verdurous tree did the land produce, nor men. But only Chernubles, that desperate champion, who stalked a colossus among the throng. Such was his strength prodigious, that, striking a bar of iron with his scimitar. Easily could he cleave it asunder,— such was the power of his brawny back. 38 THE DEATit OF ROLAND. That on it the load of four caparisoned mules, without bending, he could bear. Such was Chernubles, and to him Oliver, spying him out, rode at him straight. Shouting, " I challenge thee, champion, to combat. Hither I come to clear the field. Thou art the first of my foemen. Prepare thee ! " Fiercely Chernubles turned to reply : " Spare me thy rodomontade, thou braggart. What dost thou prate of — clearing the field ? Art thou a madman, let loose to mseander about in the eddying host, and talk'st Of sweeping away the battalions of Araby by the might of thy single arm ? Fool ! come hither, and learn of my prowess the might of a single warrior's arm." Thus he spoke, up-raising a ponderous, bulky club of solid iron. And shook it terribly, brandished it easily, making it whistle around his head. Stoutly Sir Oliver rode at the champion, pointing his strong spear right at his breast. Chernubles mightily beat the threatening pointed spear from his breast away. Striking it well with his club. But Oliver, finding his lance had missed its aim, Plunged his left hand into the Saracen's dangling hair, and with his right Fetched him a buffet tremendous, that laid him full length flat on the echoing earth. Stunned and bewildered, the monster lay for a moment, — then sprang to his feet, and Hed, Flying on foot, like a roe, to the ranks, and disappearing amongst the throng. Then Sir Oliver, raging and chafing to find his first adventure foiled. Spurred up his horse to pursue, and easily, spite the throng, had reached his prey. Had not a gallant come between them, Justin, he, of Val Ferree, Using these speeches, as, lightly curvetting, he rode athwart the Paladin, " Good Sir Champion, where is thy chivalry, thus to chase a man on foot ? Art thou the far-famed Paladin Oliver, whom report is busy with ? And do I find thee thus consoling thy boasted courage with running a muck At an unarmed, defenceless fugitive. Stay, my portly Paladin, While I teach thee, for a moment, the etiquette of battle. Come ! Sirrah, prepare thee ! I am for thee. Would'st thou know my name and degree ? Justin the Gay, of Val Ferree, the Emir of Algiers' mercenary. Am I. A match am I deemed for many men, and a match I shall prove for thee." Then said Oliver, " Cease thy insolent menaces. Dost thou taunt me, knave. Finding me foiled in my first adventure? More the reason, then, that I, Doubling my doughtiness up to stronger recoil, should smite irresistibly thee. Say, hast thou seen an archer bend him his bow, and shoot him short of the mark ? Then hast thou seen him, with ponderous effort, again bedraw his burly bow ? Right to his ear he pulls it. Terribly twangs the taowstring. Terribly flies The shaft — This time right to its mark it rushes, and buries itself in the heart. So, my champion, I come at thee." Thus he said. And Justin replied, " Burly menacer, so thy targets ever await thee as stock and still. As the red and black circumference, stuck in an archery-ground, for fools And heavy clod-polls to take pulls at. Look, my Astropil ! " thus he spoke. Patting his spirited Arab courser. " Show this fellow how we curvet." Then with demivoltes, and with caracoles, and with pirouettes, and with turns, Lightly curvetted gay Justin and Astropil round and round the Paladin. " Here is your mark," laughed Justin, " a moving one. Strike it. Paladin, if you can." Fiercely Sir Oliver galloped at Justin. Justin curvetting avoided his lance. And whizzed to his side, and with his scimitar struck at the Paladin's glittering crest. Excellent was the address of the horseman, excellent was the scimitar's play. Round raged Oliver at the Saracen, grasping his wrist with the grip of a vice. CANTO VI. 39 Wrenching his wrist up, so that the scimitar fell with an idle thud to the ground. Then did Oliver, drawing his glittering sword. Haute Claire, from its scabbard, strike out. But, deftly curvetting, gay Justin avoided the glittering edge of that griding blade. And, deftly enticing Sir Oliver sidewards, he sprang from his horse, and regained his sword. " Now, then, with dexterity, Saracen miscreant, fully and fairly I credit thee. That was a feat of daring and horsemanship, even a Frank might be proud to show. So, to it with swords ! A fair encounter I offer thee, in return for this act Of gallant bearing." Then together they fenced with right good will, — parades And passes in prime they gave right royally ; many a flaunting flanconnade They flung at each other,_ and parried cleverly ; forts to forts, they fencfed well. And now Sir Oliver making a thrust at the breast of Justin, he parried in quarte. And next Sir Oliver making a thrust at his sword-arm, Justin parried in tierce. And next Sir Oliver making a thrust right under Justin's upraised arm. In octave he parried, and carried captive the bold Sir Oliver at his skill. " Gay fencer," said Oliver, " much it delights me to see thy address, and to mark thy skill. Well would it please me to dandle and dawdle a-fencing with thee the livelong day. Yet I forget me the flaw on thy fencing, the soil on thy skill, and the blot on thy blade. How can so gallant and solid a swordsman consort with a tribe of traitors thus? " " Nay," said Justin, " gallant Paladin, I, in the Emir of Algiers' pay. Must e'en consort me with what company he, my master, puts me in ; To-day a traitor, to-morrow a courtly preux-chevalier of the highest breed. All is one to your mannerly mercenary. Therefore blame not me but my trade— Which I see will soon be over. Thou'st tlie advantage of me, good knight. Twice or thrice I was nearly giving. Our next bout may be my doom. Now let me prove thee I'm no knave. I ride a horse, this Astropil, The fleetest, 'tis said, in all Arabia. Easily could I turn and flee. And shelter myself within the battalions. But I'll not do it. I'll see this match Of gallant fence to its due conclusion, though I destined feel to fall. Is that proof sufficient ? " And Oliver quoth, " Sufficient ? aye, and more I I here unsay those dubious speeches, and honestly grieve I said them. Come — Though thou dost fall, yet thou wilt fall, the only Saracen gentleman here. To it, then, gallant ! " And here they smartly fenced together ; but Oliver pressed Him hard, desiring the combat over. Terribly wheeled and whirled Haute Claire, Beating aback the parades, and commanding the Saracen's blade most constantly. Then said Oliver, breathing a moment, " Not by sheer main force will I Seek to vanquish thee, sith thou'rt a gentleman, but by legitimate pass in fence. Therefore prepare thee to parry 1 " Here Oliver lunged, and the Saracen parried, indeed, But quitted his blade too soon, and Oliver had him with the gay remise. Right through the Saracen's ringed, mailed, quilted corselet ran the sword. Down in the dust with a thud fell Justin, dead. And Oliver, wiping his sword, " Now, by St. Mary! " said gallant Oliver, " would that such duellists I might meet The livelong day ! that such a series of capital combats might be mine ! Would there were other such gentlemen among the Saracens, as this knightly man ! But I afear me that many more alike to him may not be found." Thus as he spoke, he espied again Chernubles among the distant battailles. Moving, not yet on horse. And straightway putting his steed to its mettle, he plunged Into the struggling battalions to reach him. As when a cavalry trooper, detailed To keep in order the seethy rabble in a city, on a day 40 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. When some procession or a popular ftte doth bring them out in swarms, Slowly rides among them, heeding them not, and scarcely marking them as He rides along. They, spite their thronging, open a way for him to pass. So rode Oliver through the crowded Saracen ranlts. And now at last He reaches a place more clear of men, nor far from him Chernubles he spied. Then, as not caring to use his lance, and as if meaning sport to have. He let his lance fall in its leashes at his horse's side, and rode At a handgallop towards him. Chernubles saw him coming, and bellowed loud, As should a bull, in a lonely meadow, spy a lion, but new escaped Afrom some travelling show, and frolicking in the joy of liberty, Approach him. Loudly he bellows, standing still, in terror paralysed At the unwonted visitor. So Chernubles bellowed at the sight Of Oliver. He came up to him soon, and bending down from his horse, as he rode At a brisk handgallop along the ground, he seized by his matted and dangling hair The monster, and swinging him easily up rode along with him, making at times As if he would fling him away, as when one catching a flower-pot up by the leaves And stalk of the flower within it, swings it, making as if he would throw it away. Thus rode Oliver, with Chernubles dangling at his saddle's side. Then as when the flower in the flower-pot suddenly cometh out in the hand. Leaves and stalk and all, with clots of earth a-clinging to the roots : But the flower-pot, and the mould that fills it, heavily falls to the ground : So did a mass of the matted and dangling hair of the monster Chernubles come off In Oliver's hand, so did Chernubles heavily fall upon the ground. Up he rose in an instant on to his feet, and hastily fled away. Flying on foot, like a roe, to the ranks, and disappearing among the throng. " Twice thou hast foiled me, thou monster," cried Oliver. " Wait till the next time comes. See if I let thee slip my fingers again. I'll better take a care of thee. But come, come! Here I stand a-dawdling. Some good half-hour have I wasted on Two Saracens alone, — and I engaged in honour to a feat That clamours for urgency, calls for energetic and busiest despatch. What would Roland say if he knew it ? Would he not call me loiterer ? Yea, and with justice. Come, and be at it then ! Come, let me have at it apace ! " Thus spake he. Then for a moment surveying the desperate work that lay before Him, the field of tossing helms and turbans, closely packed, and to be cleared, " First will I decimate the leaders," thus he spoke, " and then the men Shall follow after in shoals. Packing I'll send them to their doom." Thus he spoke, and spying hither and thither across the stormy plain. He took in one by one the leaders, and marked with his eyes their places well. So that readily and that rapidly he might hither and thither fly From one to the other, to and fro across the champain, dealing death. Then couching the terrible length of his ashen spear he rode him straight at the first. Whom he selected for destruction, picking him out in the distance afar. Right through his body he ran the lance. Down fell the gallant captain dead. Then at the next one he had singled out as the gallantest after him. Swiftly and steadily making at him, over the plain Sir Oliver rode. Right through his body he ran the lance. Down fell the gallant captain dead. Then at the next one in the distance whom for destruction he singled out. Over the plain the Paladin scudded, all alight in his blazing arms. CANTO VI. 41 As when a rocket, shot up in the midsummer sky, aglitter with silver light. Whizzes over the heavens, in instantaneous swiftness rushing up : Thus, were the sky flat, and the rocket shooting sideways instead of up, Thus whizzed Oliver over the plain, so flared the glittering Paladin. Woe ! woe I to the Saracen chivalry was Sir Oliver's deadly ride. Gallant captain after captain went unto his last account. None could 'scape that dazzling meteor, streaming, rushing o'er the plain. Thus had gone to death Aladdin, lord of Alicant by Fez, ■ Prangor, Master of the Marches on the borders of Algiers, Esprev6ris, Count of Tayben, gallant Yarribeh the brave. Colonel of the crack battalion in the vast Algerian host. Thus had gone to death Marenza, also brave Estremarin, Doughty captain, struck to earth as he harangued his company. Also Glemis, Lord of Laptie, also Parjalis of Kroohl, Also the gallant captain Ajalon, best of the Emir of Balaghoot's braves ; Also Matsor, also Baseron, Sallizer also, and Bratal. These and many more went down before the whizzing Paladin. But now espying out his tactics (all too late, indeed, for some And those the bravest down), agreeing, as it were, by joint consent To disconcert them, now the captains and the chiefs secluded drew Within the ranks, each in his company or battalion sheltering. So that when the raging Paladin whizzed down upon his prey. He found it out of reach, within a press of spearmen carefully Fenced and protected. Then Sir Oliver, mustering up his prowess, drove Before him regiments, following close behind. They flying kept their ranks. By strict commands and threats of officers within. He, at the back. Ever intent upon his main design, marked well his man. And as A fisherman with rod and line, angling for his finny prey, Doth push his rod out, whereon hangs the hook, over the waters, and, The fish at last secured, doth hale him out, landing him easily on The river's bank ; so Sir Oliver pushed his long lance over the heads Of the rear ranks of flying squads and companies, and fished out the chief. Thus did he get him Tornal, lord of Ivica, Drazzon, Count of Khain, Gallant Captain Hamed, loth to flee, indeed, but doing as The others did, and sheltering himself within his press of spears. Thus he also got him stately Sassafreen, the Prince of Vail, — Prince was he by courtesy only ; son of the Indian Sultan he. Born out of wedlock, and receiving Vail as liberal appanage. Thus did Oliver with his long lance fish from aut the companies Drastonera, and Montargis, Tubal, Madzar, and Khraveen, Captains all, and likewise Narses, Vardiseer, and Astilan, And the captains Ishak, Amruz, Malkhuana, and Bimar. Then his choler rising at the cowardly flight and cowardly chiefs. Into the ranks he often burst him, leaping on his Baxabole, Leaping the ranks down, making them fall, leaping all around and about. And the veterans in the distance did espy him like a goat. Like a goat frisking and leaping sideways, so seemed Oliver To the veterans in the distance.- Great destruction did he work 42 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Among the rank and file, but still intent upon his main design. Such leaders as were left he makes at them, spearing them through, and dealing death Wholesale. Such work went on for awhile, until it seem'd at last. That of the late array of gallant captains but a few were left. Still Sansonetto on his right, towards the front of the centre, he. The Indian Sultan's captain brave, still waved his sword and strove in vain To rally his scattered company. And straight towards him Oliver rode. Calling to him as he came, " Sir Captain, why dost thou single out thyself To be the mark of my lance ? Art blind ? Knowest thou not that the leaders all I doom to death ? Wert thou a private, or hadst kept thy sabre still. Instead of brandishing it thus lustily, I were fain to pass thee by. Ha ! is it in mockery, then, or defiance, that thou still dost waggle it ? " Then did Sansonetto, impudent, and presuming on his powers Of foot, for, fleet as the wild roe, could he speed along the plain ; as fast, 'Twas said, as the fleetest Arab courser, Sansonetto ran on foot : Then did Sansonetto, impudent, to Sir Oliver reply : " I wave my sword, 'tis true, good fellow, and wave it I shall, until the wind Takes human form, and bids me cease ; for none but the wind can catch me. There ! " Up spurred Oliver on Baxabole, and in a moment was by his side. Sansonetto, chattering with terror, dived into the ranks behind, Running zigzag among the lines, chevying in and out the squads. Thus he ran, and Oliver pressed him hard. The gallant Baxabole, Little used to such a labyrinthine, crossing, zigzag ride. Now with the snaffle wrenched to the left, now as suddenly to the right, Now on his haunches thrown by Oliver, to make an unexpected turn. Floundered confused. And Sansonetto still ran in and out the lines. 'Twas as when a thief in London alleys, knowing well the short Cuts and turnings through the labyrinth of slums, keeps well ahead Of the stalwart citizen pursuing, until at last he makes a feint. Then, dodging deftly round a corner down a court, gets clean "away. The stalwart citizen pursuing finds himself in a blind lane. With egress none but what he came by. So Sir Oliver found himself Right in the heart of the proud Count Margaris of Sibilie's embattled square. As when the honest citizen returning to extricate himself afrom The labyrinth of slums, seeth around him the surly faces and close Cropp'd hair of burglars and thieves, so did Sir Oliver see the Moors. Yet not returned the bold Sir Oliver from the blind alley, but right at the wall He rode on Baxabole. As when folding doors, ill poised on hinges, blown By the wind, come swinging to, behind an entering visitor, threatening To jamb him twixt their leaves ; so swung together the battalions behind Sir Oliver. But still he rode, making for the wall. Count Margaris A-with his swarthy staff confronted him. Oliver heeded them not, but rode Along, and as he passed struck at Count Margaris' glittering crest. Hurrying, he missed, but shore the plume off. Margaris fiercely called after him, " Dastard, I'll deal thee such a blow before the day's out, that shall make Thee rue thy birth." On rode Sir Oliver, little knowing at the time Whate'er he meant, but afterwards he knew. Right on at the wall he rode. Right through the wall broke the bold Sir Oliver, and straight before him he espied CANTO VI. 43 The master thief. He had him now. Pale Sansonetto turned to flee ; But Oliver laid his lance on his shoulder, and drew him gently back. Anon Sir Oliver lifts his lance, and Sansonetto flees again. But just As he approached a well known square to hide himself therein, he feels Sir Oliver's lance creeping over his shoulder, and halts paralysed. Once more Sir Oliver lifts his lance, once more does Sansonetto flee. But just as he was gaining a cranny in the ranks to hide himself. He feels Sir OUver's lance a-creeping forward on the side of his cheek. So does a cat play with a mouse, and lets it go a little bit. The tiny vermin runs for its life, and haply deems its safety sure. But just as it doth reach its hole, down comes the paw, and pulls it back. Again the frisking, grave Grimalkin lets the little creature go. Off runs the mouse, but pauses paralysed 'neath the shadow of the paw. Once more releasing it she plays ; until at last, tired of the sport. She fetches it with her paw a buffet, and lays the tiny mortal dead. So did Sir Ohver play with the Saracen, so at length he laid him dead. Then Sir Oliver lifting his eyes, and gazing around, cried to himself : " Where am I .'' Surely in strange quarters has my wilfulness led me to ? Aye, now I bethink me — of course Count Margaris fights at the left extremity Of the centre. Him have I long passed. What with capering and running about After this knave, I fairly have lost myself. Surely the left wing this must be. Aye ! there's Roland right before me, and Malagigi at his side." Thus as he spoke he lifted his eyes, and saw he was indeed in the left. Right before him, shoulder to shoulder, Roland and Malagigi fought. And, as he saw them, it was as when in a great iron foundery Two sledge-hammers, slung side by side, deal their blows alternately. So fought Roland and Malagigi shoulder to shoulder in the fight. Such was the ponderous power of their strokes, such was the crash of their mighty blows. This saw Oliver, and remorsefully thus he spoke to his mighty soul : — " Here I stand, my post deserted, an outcast from the battle, I, FooUshly, as my wont is, running after any waif and stray, That strikes my fancy, leaving my duty to chase butterflies. Such am I. Well do I know it. Now if Roland knew that in his neighbourhood. Aye, not a stone's throw from him I was standing, I, deputed to Engross the centre, and with friendly challenge dared to clear the field ! Both these tasks have I forgotten, and especially the last. What have I done in that way ? A few led captains killed, a piece of sport Had with a hairy monster, a duel of fence, a tortuous zigzag chase After a zany. Here, brave Oliver, is thy list of bpld exploits. What would Roland say if he knew it ? Here I stand, my task not yet Begun, and but the overture of froUcking music finished now. That's meant to usher it in. The while my brave companions, Roland, here. And Malagigi, steadily fighting full two hours have battled on Since last I spoke to one of them, dealing more havoc, aye, fifty times as much As I, and I in honour bound, the challenge accepted, to clear the field. Come, buckle up my powers to might redoubled. Bluff battle, I pledge thee anew, And to it I will go again. Yet must I not let Roland see Me in this quarter, or he would reproach me with tantiveying 44 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Again at foxes, as, God's troth, to confess it, so I have been. Nay, Such reproach, so well deserved, can I never face from him. Therefore will I not return me to the centre of the host, For fear lest he espy me breaking my way a-to my lines again. That way his face lies. That part of the field I must not seek again Awhile. Now I bethink me, the Saracen reserve is posted at The back of the centre, as yet unbreathed of battle, awaiting orders from Count Margaris of Sibilie to move, who in the downfall of The Indian Sultan rules the vasty host, its generalissimo. Thither will I hie me, and" belike, so doing, I may escape Me Roland's eyes, obliquely moving in the alley twixt the left And centre, round to the back. So will I do. Resolved. Some great exploit Like to the present, single-handed to advance against a whole Unbreathed battalion, is required of me, to set my honour right In my own eyes, and eke to do a doughty piece of work towards My special business. Belly of Bacchus ! how I will scatter them. Come! Havoc, dost Thou know me ? Blustering Boreas sweeping adown on a chaff-pit — is that not I ? Come ! To arms and havoc ! Come ! " Thus speaking he moved him sidling down Between the centre and the left, to pass unnoticed from Roland's eyes ; And so, towards the back of the centre, where, at last unseen, he shook Himself, as when a water-dog leaving the water shakes himself, prepared To frolic, so did Oliver shake himself, preparing for the fray. Now at the back of the centre drawn up stood the Saracen reserve. The troops of the AlmasOur of Mauritania. He complacently had here Marshalled in serried squares and squadrons his embattled chivalry. As when a gentleman from a hillock views with pride his pleasure-grounds. That with hedgerows trim and fences neatly laid out lie below ; Joy distends his bosom at their irreproachable symmetry. With such joy the dapper Almasour gazed on his embattled squares. And thus he spoke to his mighty soul :— " Well am I pleased at the prospect here. In infinite symmetry stand my infantry, with strictest strategy stationed. Product this of daintiest drilling in Mauritanian drilling grounds. With deft deploying and wary wheeling and evolutions excellent, Adown the passes did I pilot cleverly my companies. Now in beautiful battalions, skilful squares, and lines exact. Stand they royally ranged,— a triumph of tactical ingenuity. Royally ranged the ranks are ready to move in military march, A mass of infantry that irresistibly in fearful phalanx moves along. Thus twice before have I with aptest strategy contrived discomfiture unto my foes. At Tunis, Tuldalis, the trickster treacherous, with perilous policy defied my power. He drew his forces up, a copious company, and came apparently in hope of victory. My mass of infantry with aptest strategy moved irresistibly upon his men. At Balda, Buldabore, the baron bellicose, in bold battalion bore along the plain. My mass of infantry with aptest strategy moved irresistibly upon his men. So now again shall I, when opportunity in course of strategy occurreth here. Or when the general, who knoweth not indeed of tactics tortuous so much as I, Shall call me forth to fight, and bid me marshal up my brave belligerents in the reserve. So now again shall I with aptest strategy move irresistibly upon the foe. CANTO VI. 45 But why stand idling here ? and why stand wasting here my precious time, that better were em- In going down the ranks to make inspection of my matchless infantry's accoutrements ? [ployed This will I do at once. And now my infantry will make most faultlessly a General Salute, and then they will their Arms Present, as I do ride inspecting them adown the ranks. See! 'tis already done, and with exactitude, as I predicted it, they make Salute." So down the ranks he rode, the dapper Almasour, inspecting daintily his matchless infantry. On every button he did cast his eagle eye, on every facing he bestowed a glance. In every shining belt he saw reflected back his dapper countenance. Well pleased was he. " As new pins shining, so should your accoutrements, my gallant infantry, be always seen. Well pleased am I indeed to find them perfectly in such condition as I do desire." Thus rode he round inspecting of his brave brigade. Adown the left flank did he ride at first. Then round the front he rode, and so around a-to the right flank daintily he rode. Then down the right he rode, and so aback a-to his first position in the rear. And thus he spoke him then unto his little soul : " In spick span order are they all indeed. Nay, I'll not tell them of it, lest it make them vain, and so they careless grow in future." Thus He shrugging up his little dapper shoulders with delight discoursed unto his little soul. " In matchless symmetry they are embattled now. With marching excellent they will advance. Whene'er the general, who knoweth not, indeed, of tactics tortuous so much as I, Shall call them forth to fight. Well I remember how on past occasions they have borne themselves. Well I remember how at Tunis Tuldalis, the trickster treacherous, marched out, and how My mass of infantry with aptest strategy moved irresistibly upon his men. Well I remember how at Balda Buldabore, the baron bellicose, bore o'er the plain. And how my infantry with aptest strategy moved irresistibly upon his men." Thus spoke conceitedly the dapper Almasour, and gazed complacently upon his infantry, When from afar he spied the bold Sir Oliver against his infantry advance. "See! here a champion doth very foolishly advance adown upon my lines of infantry. My mass of infantry with aptest strategy shall irresistibly advance on him. Come hither, Aldecan, my trusty aide-de-camp. Ride to the captains in the front. Bid them to countermarch their gallant companies, and strengthen thus the second line. Then let the second line, with wary wheeling and with tortuous turning, tactics take. And let them face about, and after right about, and after left about, and after halt. Then let the third line, in a curved line of infinite symmetry marshalled. Take open order, that through them spying I may direct the strategy. These tactics, Aldecan, my trusty aide-de-camp, you to the captains will impart. And tell them further that a skilful echelon in tactics tortuous I may require. Whether oblique it be, or else belike it be at strict right angles to th' original Line of alignment, — or in contiguity of column haply I may see it best To set the men, — unless perhaps, again, a foiling flank-march seemeth after all the best, — Or else in fine, indeed, in complex eventail belike my tactics may decide to move. So speed thee, Aldecan, my trusty aide-de-camp ; this to the captains pray impart." Thus spoke complacently the dapper Almasour, eager the tortuous tactics to direct : Meanwhile had solemnly the bold Sir Oliver come to the front of the brigade. As when a little child despatched adown the street, upon a difficult commission by Its parents, goes along repeating to itself over and o'er again the difficult words. Until at last by constant repetition it is sure it knows them all exactly now. But should some surly dog appear by accident right in its path, the trembling little child. Filled with tremendous fear, straightway forgetteth all that careful errand, every word of it. So did the aide-de-camp, the trusty Aldecan, ride to the front, repeating to himself 46 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. The tactics tortuous of aptest strategy confided to him by the dapper Almasour, But lifting then his eyes he saw Sir Oliver, and straightway every word at once forgot. Nor could he nothing do, but stammer out unto the captains broken phrases all about Obliquing echelons and tortuous eventail and crooked columned contiguity. With much surprise the little dapper Almasour saw nothing doing at the front. And deeming haply that the trusty Aldecan had fallen lifeless or had lost his way. He raised his little voice, and to the companies he shouted out, " Ho ! By the right, Dress! Eyes front! Steady !" thus he shouted. " Against the champion. Quick March ! " But now with more surprise and more astonishment the dapper Almasour beheld his men Stock. still a-standing, never budging an inch towards the champion. With grim delight and mirth the bold Sir Oliver beheld this travesty of war, Standing some yards away before the foremost line, with lance in bucket and with folded arms. Then he, as if to heighten up the fun a bit, rode a step forward at the men. At once the Almasour of Mauritania bawled from the back, " Prepare for cavalry ! Companies! Dress! Eyes front! Steady! Quick march I Ye beggarly battalions, I command ye march. Where is your drill, learnt in the drilling grounds Of Mauritania ? Where is your tactical symmetry ? Where are your manners, men ? How can I work out my plans of strategy, if ye move not ? March ! " In infinite symmetry moved the infantry, but in timidity, slowly on. The bold Sir Oliver on his Baxabole, with lance in bucket and with folded arms,' Contemptuous stood, and let them come at him. Like a rock he stood ; they broke Around him in confusion, as waves do when they strike a boulder. And At once the dapper Almasour cried, " What ho ! Confusion in the ranks ! My matchless infantry's thrown in disorder. There stands the champion ; he will not move. Now must I by a tortuous tactic rectify this matter straight. Prepare to pass obstacles ! Companies, three files on the left. Right turn ! Left wheel ! Good. And now my companies will pass the champion to left and right of him. With deft defilings and wary wheelings and evolutions excellent." Streaming along came the little companies in streaming files on every side Around Sir Oliver. He contemptuous let them stream and stream away. Till at last, to make him merry, he lifted his lance from its bucket, and waved It hither and thither among the files, knocking them over, as when a man Coming home from a walk, belike, into a room where children are At play, building houses of cards ; many a crazy bungalow The imps have built, and stately pagoda on the nursery table reared. He, in sport, puts in his walking-stick among the cards, and waving it Knocks the houses down in all directions. So Sir Oliver his lance Among the files, and knocked them over, against each other and on the ground. With surprise intense, the dapper Almasour saw his files go down. And thus he shouted desperately, " Rally ! Rally ! Rally I Rally ! Where is Aldecan my trusty aide-de-camp ? Here he is. Where hast thou been ? Wherefore not deliver my message to the captains in the front? What meanest thou ? But now another desperate errand I propose To send thee on. Ride instantly, Aldecan, to the captains in the front. Ride past the champion. Never mind him. See that thou bear my message true. Bid them draw their straggling columns past him, rallying them, indeed, As best they can ; but getting them clear of the champion, — that's the main concern. Then when the columns are clear, and past him, and fairly rallied, let one of them CANTO VI. 47 Signal to me, tying his handkerchief on to his sword, and waving it. By this I shall know the ranks are ready for my next tortuous tactic, by which I shall open his eyes to my ability as a general. I Propose to form the columns into line, quick as thought, and then — Nay ! but I will not tell thee either. I vow it shall surprise thee too. Of tactics tortuous and aptest strategy the acme actual 'twill be indeed. So speed thee, Aldecan, my trusty aide-de-camp to the captains in the front. Ride past the champion. Never mind him. See that thou bear my message true." In terror tremendous and desperation, the wretched Aldecan took his way. But how he passed the brave Sir Oliver none may know, but that he passed. And 'tis supposed, alike a cur, clapping his tail between his legs. And running hard t' escape an angry bull or irate man, whose looks Tossing portend or beating. Thus rode Aldecan to the captains in front. And in a while the lynx-eyed Almasour espied the handkerchief upraised. " Now," said he, "will I in a twinkling form the columns into line. And after that the royal tactic shall on the champion be played. Now into line I form them suddenly. Companies, Left wheel ! Into line ! Steady ! Quick march ! (In a moment see 'tis effected.) Companies, halt ! Dress ! Eyes front ! " Well pleased, the Almasour then spoke thus within himself: — " Now I will surround the champion. This is the tactic I propose. Of tactics tortuous and aptest strategy the acme actual it is indeed. Now there are eight of my gallant companies. Marvellously shall I manage it. The centre companies standing still, that is, the companies Four and Five, They shall form the top of my square. And warily will I wheel their pair Of neighbours on either hand, that is, the companies Two and Three on the left. And companies Six and Seven on the right. These shall form the sides of my square. Then with symmetry shall the extreme ones. Companies Number One and Eight, With larger wheeling and with wider circuit swing around the rest, And marshal compact at the bottom ; and so my champion is surrounded, in A net four-sided hemmed." Thus said he, and shouted his dexterous orders to The gallant companies. They, like gates, a-swinging round in symmetry. Formed the nice square, in which Sir Oliver, solemnly seated on Baxabole, Calmly saw himself surrounded, with lance in bucket and folded arms. " Now, now, good champion, how lik'st thou this ? Starve or surrender, sir, — 'tis all one To us. Cut off is he from all auxiliaries. Soon will he yield him prisoner. Much would I like to know whate'er his name is, and what his degree in France, As also what the ransom he propose to pay me, if I accept his sword and spare his life. Come hither, Aldecan, my trusty aide-de-camp. Ride to the champion in the square. Inquire of him these same particulars, which thou dost hear me speak about." " No, no, not I," exclaimed the wretched Aldecan, driven to frenzy at the thought. " Now God avert from me the cursfed destiny, that brings me into contact with that fearful man ! Twice, twice before have I, my royal master, ventured all too near unto his neighbourhood. Here is my neck — whip out thy royal sword, and strike my head off, rather than that I should go To one, who, not content with killing, afterward would eat me up, as I believe." "What is he, then, so very terrible ?" thus spoke the Almasour in reply. " Big, big, and burly, surely, is the champion ; but then, you see, he is our prisoner. Nought, nought can e'er he do ; his hands are handcuffed, man, his teeth are drawn, and we have got him fast. 48 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. 'Tush, 'tush, my Aldecan. Away with .silly scruples ! Ride to the champion in the square," " Now, for God's salte, my royal master ! Kill me, but ask me not to go. A very Lucifer, let loose to lash about, is this sam.e champion. Oh I spare me. Sire." " Aye ! aye ! 'tis-strange. Now I should just have thought the very opposite, I should indeed. Hi ! Hum I What's this ? Why, then, there's truth in what— Heh ! Heh ! Why ? What ? Jehovah ! he assails our square ! " J"or at this moment did the bold Sir Oliver stride to the square's side was a-nearest him. And box the right hand man withal so lustily, that down the whole rank straightway tumbled flat. " Is't possible?" exclaimed the dapper Almasour, "or do these eyes of mine a-play me false? He's doing it again ! Now stores of strategy and toils of tactics come a-to my aid ! I either straight must circumvent him, or I must devise and deftly draw away my men. And so confuse him with my tortuous tactics, that ne'er to touch them will he have the power. Come, come, my knowledge most exact and nice of skilful echelon and complex eventail. Now will I problems work, now will I puzzles set unto this champion for solutidn." With that, he issued orders most elaborate, with subtlest mathematic bristling thick. Of tactics tortuous and aptest strategy the acme actual they were indeed. As when a Catherine wheel spins round and round again in dizzy motion and with spokes afire. So spun the little dapper infantry around Sir Oliver around and round. As when a weaver weaving flashing threads of many a variegated tincture all imbued. With nimble fingers sorting, weaves the shotted silk. In gay vicissitude the colours glance Of threads incessantly intwining in and out of one another in the fairy play. So flashed and spun the little dapper infantry around Sir Oliver around and round, In interlacing gay vicissitude of file and rank and file a-spirining round. As when in Lilliput the gallant Gulliver the tiny infantry beheld at drill. He much admiring stood all in the centre, and with lively interest regarded them ; So, like to Gulliver, the brave Sir Oliver with curious interest viewed the scene. As when a crew of merry mariners do man the capstan in the vessel's stern ; Into the holes they ship the canny capstan-bars, and heaving in at it they scuttle round ; So, like the mariners, the dapper infantry around Sir Oliver swung round and round. As when a chromotrope in magic lantern rolls; in spires and wreaths and coils it plats and twines, In mazy ins and outs revolves voluminous, and bellies boldly or relaxed retires ; So, like the chromotrope, the dapper infantry in mazy coils and spires do intertwine. Now belly boldly out at brave Sir Oliver, and then as fast or faster back retire. As when a lady flirts her paper fan about ; and first she opens to the full the folds. And then as suddenly she shuts it up again. So did the dapper infantry their ranks. Which first they open out, and then they shut ag^ain, and then they open out, and then they shut, And now a spreading fan they all a-seem to be, and now a shut one, in a column close. As when a conjuror doth take a pack of cards, and sends them flying through the air in streams Between his hands; but lo ! he deftly catcheth them, and slap! together brings the flying cards : So, like to cards in hands of cunning conjuror, the dapper infantry, commanded by The dapper Almasour of Mauritania, fly out in streams away on every side. But then as suddenly they fly together, and slap ! are the ranks together brought. As when— But now Sir Oliver has had enough of it, and walking up unto the dapper men With outspread hands he pushes over lots of them. In squads they tumble down upon the ground. And so he walks about among the little dapper infantry, a-pushing all adown. Down, down they go, collapsing instantly, and shortly not a man of them was standing left, But everywhere around the ground was strewn with little dapper infantry a-lying flat. So when he turned away, it was as when in skittle alley all the skittles prostrate lie. CANTO VII. 49 After a lucky throw has been dehVered by a scientific thrower of the cheese ; So, like skittles down, the dapper infantry all lay flat upon the grass around. And now Sir Oliver did turn his horse's head, and rode towards the Altnasour himself. The dapper Almasour beheld him coming up, and paralysed with terror waited him. The bold Sir Oliver he took the Almasour, up by the scurf he took him of his neck. And set the little dapper Almasour upon his saddle-bow, and glared at him. In terror terrible, the little Almasour sat on the saddle-bow and looked at him. Turning his little eyes in fearful terror up, and 'neath his turban slowly rose his hair, Uprising steadily, until at last it stood in bristles stiff upon his little head. Then did Sir Oliver, making a show as though he'd eat him up alive, release at last His little prisoner afrom his agony, and set him safe and sound upon the ground. The little Almasour of Mauritania took to his heels and ran away. CANTO VII. THE OLIVERIAD {Continued). Then Sir Oliver, gazing around him, thus spoke to his mighty soul : — " The day is drawing on apace, and I stand fooling. The moments fly, That busier men would snatch at greedily, harvests to reap of fortune. I Indolent let them pass. The laurel grows, as I stand, from sprig to tree, And's plucked to make the bonny brow-rings, other brows to twine than mine. And worser ones. No longer, womanish self-reproach, be mine. I cast Thee off. When next I stand a-balancing pretty reasons for self-rebuke Or for excuse of it, then call me coward in earnest, say this indolence Is nothing but faint-heartedness. Aye ! when next I loiter, that's my text. The sun is standing in mid heavens. Soon will it slope to afternoon. Then comes the evening. Aye ! but ere the russet evening fall, what work Shall issue from these arms ! My prowess, rear to thy height. There stands the fight. Still seethes the centre in the turbulence that I left it. Little mark My doings there have left. I, that could stamp and grind my heel into The supple stuff, stand here a-dawdling, doing it not. But so no more ! " Thus as he spoke, his aspect changed to wrath, and, drawing his glittering sword. He shackled at his charger's side his lance, saying that it were now A bauble in his way, a weapon too slow and courteous for his work. Then looked he on his blade, that glittering shone like a star before his eyes. Haute Claire had a hilt of crystal and gold. And much he loved his sword. Thus As he regarded it, he said : " Roland has darfed you and I To clear the field. What sayest thou ? Thou'rt still the gallant, trusty blade, I e'er have known thee, or I do deceive me much. Come, poppet, what Say'st thou ? Aye, well I know thy answer, litde woman. Glitter and laugh And go and kill them— that's thy way. So, so, then. Shalt not wait an instant. Meanwhile, I gird my might unto this work of c6mplete ruin, fell Destruction, devastation sheer ; which, might it only prove as sheer And utter as I brag it, glory would win me unknown, would make amends H so THE DEATH OF ROLAND. For ten times all this lagging, would right me in my own esteem, and place Me high above the heads of all, daring to the letter and Performing a feat, that most men would deride as madness. The trial, then, I make. Thus, thus I go, to do it, or to die. Come on, my blade ! " Thus as he spoke, he spurred his steed, towards the centre guiding it. Into the centre he plunged. As when a mower, mowing down the grass. With sinewy arms sweeping his sharpened scythe around, he moweth down The pert up-rearing blades, in heaps and downy ridges leaving them : So moved the Paladin 'mong the Saracen ranks, so mowing moved he, So left he heaps and ridges from his mowing as he moved. It was Promiscuous destruction he was working — common men and chiefs. The common men and officers to ruin indiscriminate He doomed. He mowed. He doomed. He dealt perdition out on all alike. And thus a man, observing him, would have discoursed within himself: — "With strong stout arms the mower moweth down the herbage with his scythe. He meaneth ere the evening come to have his plot completely mowed. He hath some business in his soul. He hath some matter on his mind. Wherefore so stern the mower? Why so strongly doth he sweep his scythe? " Thus would a man, observing, have discoursed thus unto himself. And still Sir Oliver went mowing, with his sword he mowed the men. And now, sweet Heaven heed it not, and gentle faces see it not. And gentle ears, ye hear it not ! a fearful sight there now was seen. For was he not a very dealer of destruction and of wrack Insuff'rable and ruin, the Paladin Oliver, as he moved, and death? As when athrough the stained glass windows of a church the sunlight streams On to the pavement, making it red, or mixing there the red and green Tints of the coloured glass together j as the pavement then doth seem. So did the grass around the Paladin grow. And he still stalked along Amid the carnage, dealing destruction wholesale, devastation fell. 'Twas promiscuous destruction he was working — common men and chiefs. The common men and officers to ruin indiscriminate He doomed ; and sent them to their doom. And thus could other knights have seen The wrack and ruin that he wrought, they would have said, "Such havoc fell Never in battle 'foretime have our eyes beheld, but when, perchance. Some strong battalion, packed in solid phalanx, drives its way athrough A seethy host, and deals along its line of march, where'er it goes. Terrific havoc. Mustering its ranks, and holding close in firm array. Resistless doth it devastate. Such havoc now doth one man deal." And thus could Roland have seen his comrade, to himself he would have spoke : " The friendly challenge that I gave him, meaning but to harry up His mighty mettle to its bigness, doth he doughtily dare to brave. Aye ! and he will perform it, if I know him right, or he will die Attempting it. Gallant spirit ! Chivalrous Oliver ! My compagnon dear. Thou harkest up my courage to its crack, in emulation of Thy mighty gallantry. Now God give Christendom such another champion In hour of need as my compagnon ! " Thus had it been, had Roland seen His brave compagnon. Now 'twas at this time that Sir Oliver, pausing to breathe A moment, stood regarding the field. Around he saw the seethy crowds. CANTO VII. SI Despite destruction, still a multitude. And, striking his breast, he thus discoursed Unto his mighty soul : " Now must I muster up to doughtier deeds My spirits, and my prowess put up to its highest pitch. The time Wears on amain. The day grows old, in stalking up and down the host And making lanes clear. Something more wide and spacious would I now attempt. Fain am I to enlarge myself upon them, and to spread about At ease among them, havocking widely." Thus he spoke, viewing the field. His face was flushed with exercise, and his spirits high ; he leant upon His sword. As when a reaper. Hushed with summer heat, doth lean against A gate, viewing the field, half-reaped, of bearded, tawny corn, and breathes. Ere he resume his labours. So Sir Oliver stood, viewing the field, Leaning upon his sword. Then summoning up his might : " I go to do't. Athrough the host," quoth he, " I'll ravage like a fire, consuming them Like stubble." Thus he spoke, and, mounting up on Baxabole, he spurred His fiery steed. The fiery charger rushed incessantly along. The Paladin wheeled and whirled his sword, his body seemed alive, his frame Distended, dizzily whirling. Incessantly up and down the ranks he rides. Dealing about him death and slaughter. Terrible was he to behold. Terribly glittered he. But more terrible was the whirling of his arms. Dealing around him death and havoc, never ceasing, ever whirling. As in the intricate engine machinery, on a vessel, or in a mill. Wheels and chains and cranks and pistons work in excellent symmetry. Lazily lumbers along the fly-wheel. By it stands the governing-rod. And two balls of iron, adjusted, round the governing-rod revolve. As perpetually in the machinery those two balls swing round and round. So the arms of the Paladin Oliver swung in ceaseless whirlwind round. Desolation unavoidable spread itself among the host. And that host, so fair at morning, ravaged deep now seemed to be. Fifties stood, where once in hundreds stood the companies arrayed. Ruts and roads of devastation seamed and ploughed the host across. And thus the captains of the companies, marshalling anew their men. Numbering them, and stoutly striving c6mpact rally to achieve, Thus they spoke, " This file of twenty is decreased, it seems, to ten. And this solid square, where lately eighty gallant warriors stood. Scarcely forty, scarcely thirty do the ill-dressed ranks contain. Sorely ravaged, sore impoverished are our gallant companies." As the bosom, as the mighty side of some trappean hill, Where in ages past a slumbering, subterranean fire hath heaved Into faults and slips and huge up-hitchfed dykes the strata fair; Yawning fissures plough its face up, rents enormous, chasms vast. Seam and scarify the brawny bosom of the ancient hill. So were the Saracen battalions ploughed with troughs from end to end. And the captains, sorely taxfed, strove to close the chasms up. Strove to close those horrid alleys through their companies and squares. And still the Paladin went raging, fiercely a-galloping, fearfully ravaging. Ravaging reckless the Saracen multitude, fiercely a-galloping hither and thither. Ramping in orgy ineffable, dealing devouring destruction and death around. Thus did rage the Paladin Oliver among the seething Saracen host. 52 THE DEATH OF ROLAND, As when the morning, breaking in roses, crimsons the sky with colour fair. Strewing its blushes, and slowly covering all the East with a sheet of red. So was the plain around the Paladin growing. Now it was at this Point of the battle, that, far away, right in the front of the right wing. There was a tumult great. Here fought Astolpho. He, thither from the back. Where first he wrought his prowess, joining him awhile awith the band Of barons led by Turpin, thence collected had, of free goodwill Marshalling round him, a princely troop of youthful knights all eager for The foray, meaning thus to scour the plain, like dashing bucaneers. Who in their skimming schooners scour the sea, and take a royal toll Of all they come on. Many a gay adventure in the battle had This gallant company. Many a deed of prowessy, and noble sport Of fence had they, and many a gallant episode in the war was theirs. Like stars, they were — Astolpho and the youthful knights — like stars they seemed. Cassiopeia, best, or the Pleiades, or Orion, with his belt Of jewels, and his spangled squadron, best with the youthful knights compared. Yet terrible was the carnage on the right. They dealt destruction down Upon their enemies, but not escaped themselves. And so it came about. That now one, now another, dropt. Their leader saw them fall, and sore Distressed was his gallant soul, to think how his companions fast By cruel fate were sinking. The ranks were thinning quick, and still the boys Kept well together, fighting princely. But fiercer grew the carnage, and Fast did they fall, now this one, then the next, the gallant youths. As when A constellation, in the morning breaking, slowly fades. The stars Faint, one by one, and bid adieu to daylight. In degrees they set Of splendour, in dignities retiring, one by one, till at the last Out have the dazzling shiners all agone, with but the brightest left. Of all the youthful band, Astolpho now remained. All the bright lights Around extinct, he only burned. Thus had it come to pass, that at The front of the right wing he fought, and fought alone. And here, I say, A tumult great there was. 'Twas thus it had begun : Chernubles, with Crafty design, narrowing out his files, enticed, as if with weak Impoverished lines, Astolpho on. He, at the back, with seven picked ' And brawny champions, like himself — these all upon their bellies flat Did lie, avoiding notice, nor they lay alone, for with them skulked Full half a regiment of blacks, the Sultan's body-guard. Thus, then, Astolpho, little witting, plunged amain into the lines, but no Sooner had plunged, than up the burly bullies sprang, confronting him. Great Chernubles himself, mustering up his powers, and armfed with Aspect alone terrific, spreading out his arms, and with his hair Dangling in sheets behind him, rushed at the knight, roaring. 'Twas as when The fabled dragon, with wings outspread, and belching fire, hath rushed upon Its prey; so did Chernubles rush upon Astolpho. Then, as when A woodcutter, lopping a stately oak, doth hew the branches, with stout axe Maiming the tree, and ruefully lopping them off; so did Astolpho lop Chernubles. The monster, bellowing, fled. His brigades, seeing their champion So mauled and worsted, incensed, mustered in bullying battle. He, the boy, CANTO VII. S3 Nothing a-daunted, drove at them, throwing them in disorder. Now, as if By fell design, as sooth it was, Count Margaris of Sibilie, Coming away afrom the left extremity of the centre, where Sir OHver in his former ride had found him, and had heard him threat To do a deed of wickedness, little knowing or foretelling what The swarthy brigand meant, — he, with his ruffian Moors, drawing them off From where they stood, deploying them adown the centre's front, came round Unto the front of the right wing, and there arrayed them. Thus it was, That young Astolpho, having discomfited at last Chernubles' troop. Turning around to pass away, found before him the new brigades. Meanwhile Chernubles rallying his men at the back, and bringing up Auxiliaries, threatened onset. Between the two brigades Astolpho stood Enclosed. But, nought dismayed, the gallant boy marshalled his prowess and Sallied t' attack alone the forces ; but their leaders fearing to Sustain the onset, marched and countermarched their men, keeping them clear. Drawing them off, showing but splintering files for the Paladin to break against. Such tactics did they use on either hand, with march and countermarch ; And all the while they were entangling him within a widening maze. As in a maze, Astolpho rode about, espying egress. As When one doth draw the string, in skilful hem let in around the mouth Of bag or satchel ; with his left hand he holds the gathering puckers firm, And with his right he pulls the string. So did the crafty Chernubles And Margaris bedraw their dexterous forces round Astolpho. He, Collecting all his might, drove fair at them, to break him out. And hence A great tumult arose. This tumult, then, did Oliver afar Espy, standing amidst the carnage in the centre of the plain. And thus he spoke to his mighty soul : " What means that tumult over there? Terribly tosses it, terribly surges it, as if some strong man were in a press. And trying to force his way athrough it, or rather as if a band of men, As if a band of strong determined men, determined to get through. Were fighting their way. So does it seem to me. So terribly does the press Toss and surge from end to end. Belike it is a troop of our Bold barons there surrounded, or a division of the veterans, who By some chance thither have ta'en their way to that part of the field, and let The seethy swarms come round them. That must it be. With such tremendous strength On every side the press is pushed outwards ; all around it gives. Soon shall I see a lot of gay cockades come streaming out, I know. 'Tis but a matter of waiting. But, bethink me, present aid may not Be unacceptable. Therefore will I hie me there at once, and give The gallant fellows welcome help." And this he would have done indeed. But even as he looked the tumult died away, and all was still. " Now then," quoth the bold Sir Oliver, " they nothing need them help of mine. Well have they fought, and well have borne them, making their way athrough the throng. By the other side at t'back, they doubtless have escaped, and By this time the gallant company, safe and sound, are out of harm." Thus he spoke, and re-addressed him to the fray, with doughty arms Battling them down. And now his work was manifest. On every S4 TBE D£ATH OF ROLAND. Side, athrough the centre, emptinesses vast, highways and squares Of ruin were. Thus raged he, with ardour unimpaired his mad Attempt pursuing. And now from out the front part of the right, where late That tumult great had been, emerged Chernubles and Count Margaris Riding, together conferring. Like as when two damned conspirators, Coming away afrom the place where they have plotted and performed Their cursfed deed, do talk together, looking around them furtively. Lest any may be near to hear them. And even now the deed is done. They fear it. So Chernubles and Count Margaris together rode Conferring. For a little way they rode, then separated, each To his own battalion. Presently again Count Margaris is seen. This time a-drawing off his men, he riding at the front with flushed Face and insolent mien, like one who too much wine has drunk, and brims Over with bottle courage. He, espying Oliver from afar. Rode insolent towards him at the head of his Moors, and gathering Swaggering confidence taunted : " Had you a Paladin, named Astolpho? Well, What think you ? We've just killed him. He's a spark, now, that he is, and bit The dust in gallant style. The cursfed fop! — we took his dandyism Out of him, I warrant you. O God ! to see his curls come out ! His back-hair came all down, I tell you, in the struggle. Well I know How a woman looks, as many I have taken by the rights Of war, and forced to yield them to my wishes ; with upraised hands and face Of angel deprecation, with panting struggling bosom, and with voice A choke with sobs, they plead for their sweet chastity — so your Paladin seemed Amid us ravishers, and so we forced him to yield his life to our desires. How like you it, bully ? You look confounded. Stare as you may, 'tis true. For I Tell you, that some ten minutes ago we have incontinent laid him dead." Then spoke Sir Oliver, and the meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Margaris, " Hast thou then slain the boy, and comest hither to brag the news to me ? Then hast thou slain a milkwhite roe, the pride of all the pasture ground. Then hast thou plucked a lily, worthy for queens to kneel to and adore. Then hast thou slain a friend, who's left a friend behind to take revenge. Then hast thou slain a champion, who lives again. He lives in me." Thus as he spoke, he sprang at Margaris, and with one blow of his glittering sword Cut him in half, at the belly slicing him asunder sheer. Down dropped The Count, with bowels scattering and with blood belching from out the two Dismembered trunks. In trepidation terrible the host of Moors behind. Confounded at the mere sight, scattered. Oliver made not to pursue. But turning away he wept, holding his hand before his eyes that none Might see him. Thus wept Oliver, thinking of Astolpho dead. But now A sight grotesque was seen ; for Chernubles, coming around afrom Another part of the right, nor knowing aught about the tragic fate Had overta'en his co-conspirator — he, maimed, as Astolpho lopped Him, on foot, for ne'er a bridle had he arm to pull — he coming up Waddling, a torso lopped and bleeding, knowing well his doom was sealed. And reckless what he did, caring but to glut his natural appetite For blackguard insolence, thus a-waddled up as best he might, prepared CANTO VII. 55 To void his vomit vile. Thus 'twas, as Oliver stood, his hand before His eyes, a-weeping, he heard a voice in front of him : " Poor Paladin ! Weep on, poor man. I see thou knowest all. 'Tis true. The darling's dead. We ancient lechers coming up, we grew so fond, we smothered him With our caresses, kissed him to death, hugged him and cuddled him till he died. I vowed it was too bad. I told them, Let them spare the boy, and hand Him over to Chernubles, who had made a royal use of him ; For 'troth, dost know ? I quite adored him. I could have ta'en him had he lived. To be my page or catamite in my harem in Chernublia. His body is the rarest sight these bushy eyes have e'er beheld. But hark ye ! seeing that was plainly out of question from the first. Nor should I much have cared indeed to toy with such a tiger whelp. We carefully sought him out another master, who would better take A care of him, and so we sent him to be the devil's page in hell. How like you it, big bully ? Say, have we done aright or no ? Canst hear? " As should an ugly bandy-leggfed dwarf, by base profession doomed To beg at bridges, gaining alms by mere monstrosity of shape From charitable passers by, who pitying his deformity Drop money in his hat, as there he sits, planted on tumbrel small. On which, when day of begging base is o'er, he wheels himself away. Should one of these abortions of fair nature and monstrosities Rise, as God knoweth how, afrom his tumbrel, and up-waddling on Bandy legs a-bending under lumpish body, thus assail Some stately gentleman passing by, in sport with blackguard Billingsgate : So did Chernubles mock and taunt the brave Sir Oliver, so did he Waddle, and taunt him with Astolpho's death. Exactly so it wasj Though as a house is to a hut, a pillar to a milestone is. Such was Chernubles to the beggar, a torso vast, a mammoth maimed. Then Sir Oliver, scarcely heeding in his grief what words were said. Nor marking much the taunts, but seeing before him an old enemy. And guessing somewhat : "Soft ! " he said. "Wert thou of those who killed the lad ? Thy speech garnished with 6bscene riddle let me hear thee plainly speak." Then Chernubles to his troops, " Come on ! " he bawled. " The man's afraid. The loss of his catamite has unnerved him. Come, surround him, and send him down To keep his cooing billing buttock-stretcher company in hell." Thus cursed he, ordering up his blacks ; and gathering insolent courage, " Yes ! Twas I, and I alone, that planned it. Aye ! and I mightily glory in it. I was the prime adviser, conspirator. I led the others on to the deed, Not yet completed, for I purpose, when I have sent thee to thy doom. To glut my appetite with a banquet worthy of gods to feed upon. Into ribbons will I slit his beautiful face, his dainty arms I'll hack them off, and carve his lily thighs in slices off, until I've left him the mauled and mangled carcase, that the whelp has made of me." Roaring Sir Oliver rushed at the monster, and with all his mighty strength Snatched him from earth, by his mass of matted and dangling hair a-seizing him. Grasping him tightly. Fearfully bellowed the monstrous beast, struggling hard. But Oliver held him, twining his great hand in the roots of his long and dangling hair. As when one with a half-empty sack to carry, twists it round and round. S6 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And holds it well by the middle, so did Oliver hold the monster fast. Then as when one meaning to throw a ponderous, heavy thing afar. Swings it round and round his body to give it impetus, so Oliver Swung the monster round and round, and at last he launched him aloft in the air. Up in the air soared the ponderous mass, and down, squelch ! on a thicket of spears. There he lay writhing convolved, and raining blood and corruption in torrents out. Howling in agony dire. The breaking and parting spears harrowed and tore The gashes wider, opening their lips to chasms — in awful agony writhed The monster, pouring blood and bowels, and shrieking died. But Oliver Turned away from the sickening sight, and hiding his face with his hands he cried : — "To what am I hurrying? Whither am I travelling, sweet heaven ? Where Will the madness lead me of such a day, of such a day ? Tempests of horrors Whirl my poor brain round and round. I cannot get them out. I shall Go mad. But come ! collect me. Bethink me of the cause, the cause. My friends Around me butchered by these villains. Innocent, unsuspecting men Dragged to the shambles by damned treachery. And now the last, Astolpho dead. Pale remorse, darest thou show thy mealy face in front of such Damned work as this? Faint-hearted nature, wilt thou rear thy head Within me, and prate of human feeling, preach me a sermon of mercy? Away ! — Away with all such baby thoughts ! Buckle my soul to deeds of blood And carnage hideous. Murderous massacre, come behind me, and shed thy sheet Of bloody shadow o'er me. The spirits of hundreds stalk abroad, and call For havoc and for riot." Thus as he spoke, his face grew purple, his veins Stood out like cords upon his temples, his hands worked fiercely round upon His sword-hilt. Like a devil he seemed. " Bethink me too, bethink me too Of Oger and Florismart, my brave companions, barbarous slain. Away, I say With baby speeches and compunctions ! To wholesale immolation I Devote them all." Then, as a butcher jumps in a slaughter-house into the pit. Huddled with bleating, struggling sheep, and, with his barbarous knife athirst To drink their blood, kneeling bestrides them one by one, a-wrenching up The timid heads, and cutting their unprotected throats, plying his trade.: So did Oliver jump on the Saracens ; like a butcher, jumped he. Gashing and slashing and hewing and hacking, mauling and mangling, hashing and mashing. To the excesses of barbarous butchery rag&d the butcher, abusing his trade. No common butcher was at work. 'Twas as if round the slaughterhouse door The retail-dealers were gathered as usual with their crowd of market carts. And thus said one of the retail-dealers : " We're not kept long waiting for Our meat this morning. Most ferociously does that fellow hurry his work. He seems to delight to bathe his hands in blood, and see the animals suffer." And as if others coming out said : "There is a butcher within. Who revels in butchery. You should see how he abuses and tortures the sheep. Gashing and slashing them, hewing and hacking them, hashing and mashing them terribly. All around him the mangled carcases lie about. The pit itselPs Almost knee-deep in blood. The slaughtered animals all are afloat in it." And as if thus one of the retail-dealers to his neighbour said : " Wilt thou go see if my meat is ready ? I care not to see that butcher at His work. He doth misuse the sheep so terribly." And thus the other to him Replied : " No, no ! not I ! So terribly does that butcher abuse the sheep." CANTO VII. 57 Thus did the butcher butcher the Saracens, thus raged Oliver massacring ; Rioting in an orgy of barbarous extermination and butchery. 'Twas promiscuous slaughter he was wreaking— common men and chiefs, The common men and officers to butchery indiscriminate He doomed inflexibly. He butchered. He doomed. He massacred all alike. And thus, could one of his comrades have seen him, he would have discoursed within himself " To the excesses of barbarous butchery rages a butcher about the host, Murdering ruthlessly, slaughtering fearfully, butchering barb'rously every one. That can never be the soft-hearted Oliver ? Yes ! 'tis he indeed. Wherefore to such excesses of butchery rages the soft-hearted Oliver ? " So for a while, so for a long while the slaughterous, bloody work went on, TiU, as in the pit of a slaughter-house, when a butcher has nearly done, All around the dead and dying animals huddled together lie, So the dead and dying weltering lay in blood about the plain. 'Tis at such time that the slaughterer pauses a space amid his work. And looks around him to see how many animals yet remain to be killed ; So did Oliver pause, and look on the Saracens that yet remained. Thus as he paused, his eyes did fall for a moment on his hands. And he saw them as the hands of a dyer. As a dyer's hands. Who aU day has been a-dyeing royal curtains crimson, in The dyeing-tub full of crimson dye steeping the curtains and dipping his hands All day long in the crimson dye ; so did Oliver see his hands. Then regarding the reeking plain around about him he thus did cry : " C6mplete, fell extermination, thou art drawing to an end. Everywhere the dead and dying lie in heaps about the plain. Yet do batches of weak victims, huddled, still await my sword. I have gone too far to tarry. I must see the bloody work To its due conclusion. Nay, my appetite is up,, and I Could kill till doomsday now. Come on, my crimsoned blade. Haute Claire, thou jade, Thou blushest dost thou ? Damn thee, I'll put thy modesty to a proper test." Thus he roared, and, as a wolf, plunging into a fold of sheep. So plunged Oliver among the Saracens j there he rioted, as a wolf Riots, careless of the timid shepherds, who, e'en did they know. Dare not oppose ; with famished appetite unappeased, he kills and eats. Dripping are his jaws with blood ; around the roots of his ravenous fangs Gobbets raw of flesh are sticking. And he stiU goes gorging on Unmolested, ever anon a-looking round him, not in fear. But because he knoweth well what work unlawful he is at. So did Oliver riot, so did he look around him, well Knowing what barbarous immolation he was after ; skulking now And then, with hangdog face, as if for fear his comrades might him see. At last he paused, as if in surfeit, and looking around him thus he cried -.-^ " C6mplete, fell extermination, thou art drawing to an end. Everywhere the dead and dying lie in heaps about the plain. Yet do batches of weak victims, huddled, still await my sword. I have gone too far to tarry. Nay, I talk of tarrying,— That I could not, if I would. Drunk do I feel with slaughter, I. Up to my brain the fumes of blood have mounted, and, intoxicate I S8 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. With carnage, I must rollick on, till to the dregs I've drained the bowl. Come, then, drunkard, to the orgy ! The revel waits. Hold hard ! I come. Death and devils ! Who shall say I shirk my liquor ? I can tope Against the best man. All the animal that is in me, I let loose." On he rioted. Long hath the grey wolf on a-rioted, too, but with Appetite renewed, he goes on gorging. All around his ravenous fangs Lumps and pieces of quivering ilesh are sticking. He insatiable Goes chawing on : his mouth a mass of bloody mastication seems. And thus would other wolves have thought, had they seen him : "That wolf's in luck. Such defenceless prey, such freedom from molestation hath he got. He ravens as if he were eating for all of us. Would we were there to raven too ! " Thus did Oliver raven rioting, drunk with slaughter, mad with blood, Ramping in orgy ineffable, holocausts offering up to bloody death. Howling and roaring he stalked among the heaps of grisly carnage, his Face distorted, his eyes a-roUing, an apparition terrible. As when a wolf, at last a-surfeited, still desiring to gorge him on, Trying again and again to swallow, vomiting all aback again, Rolls about in the ghastly carnage, wallowing, plast'ring himself with blood, So did Oliver wallow among the ghastly carnage on the plain. As when vintagers in a wine-press tread and trample the purple grapes ; Through the cracks the red wine flows. Churning and trampUng they tread on. Treading to pulp the juicy, succulent, slimy grapas. Inside the vat, Foaming and bubbHng rises the wine ; the grapes are trod to a mash of pulp. Such was the mash of bodies round Oliver. All around, where once the vines Stood in mihtary rows, in lines and files symmetrical, — All is bare and empty. The vine-poles are adown, and lying in lots Upon the ground. The prostrate vines lie curled up in their trenches. All round. Where late that clustering, dense array of tendrils and vine-leaves rose aloft. Wide-spreading, a teeming vineyard fair, and filled the plain with branches, — all Is bare and empty. The eye scans vacancy only. So around Oliver, Where late that clustering, thick array of spears and hosts embattled stood, Vast savannahs of desolation, deserts drear of ruin were. No longer can the immolator find his sacrifice to hand. He has to go long distances now from one part to the other, as should A Highland cattle-lifter, wont to make his predatory raids On the fair Lowland cattle pastures— Long hath he Ufted defiantly Some favourite country-side, and thence in forays past hath royal herds Insolent driven. Familiar to him by long frequenting is every field And every point in that fair district. Sorely hath he thinned it by Insatiable marauding, scarce witting, indeed, what decimation he Hath all the time been working. At last he comes one day, to find the fields Almost a-bare of cattle. Not every field doth he find tenanted, but Over two or three fields he hath to go to get but one single cow. Disappointed he desists from a country where so few cattle are. So did Oliver desist from his foray. So did he maraud no more. As when a master-woodcutter, standing in the midst of a clearing vast, Views with pleasure the vacant acres around him, leaning on his axe, So did Oliver stand in the midst of the plain, a-leaning on his sword. CANTO VIII. 59 All around the master-woodcutter is the vast plantation cleared. With but a thin hem of trees remaining at the very horizon's edge. Which the under-woodcutters rapidly are engaged in felling down. Even as he looks, he seeth this thin hem of trees go down, The last tree fall, and the under-woodcutters running up to where he stands. So did Oliver in the distance see the last line of spears go down, And the veterans running up to him, and the knights and barons bold. And Turpin and valorous Malagigi running up to him over the plain. With what joy they crowded round him, and congratulations poured : — Well had he done his task of desperate daring, well had he madly fought Amain, and the famous challenge, accepted, performed, and had cleared the field. CANTO VIII, And thus said valorous Malagigi : " Roland will be here anon. He has gone around the plain, to see of the soldiers who are down. Meanwhile he has sent me hither, his congratulations to ProfFIr thee. Well, he says, and manfully, Oliver, thou hast thy mad feat Performed." And unto Malagigi Oliver then did thus reply : — " I forgat me the carnage and butchery that attended it ; else, belike, Never had I accepted the challenge. Sooner had I been craven called. Woe is me, for the bloody work, that these hands of mine have made ! " Then said valorous Malagigi, consoling the soft-hearted Paladin, " Aye ! but, man, bethink thee what butchery they would have made of us, if thou Had'st not prevented them, by anticipating that fell doom upon themselves. Also, bethink thee, Oliver, what a many valiant gentleman, What brave soldiers here among us thou hast saved from bloody death. By that wholesale devastation which thou wroughtest, and which checked The seething and raging battalions of Araby right in full career, and which Mightily must have prevented I cannot tell how much carnage among our men." Then said Oliver : "Aye! Malagigi. Well it is to comfort me. Yet shall I never get over, I fear me, the hideous work of this terrible day. Hadst thou been with me in my walks alone athrough the seethy host, Hadst thou but seen what I have seen, known what I have been compelled to do. Could I but tell thee that terrible solitude's secrets — O God, forgive me, O God ! Packed is my memory full of horrors, charged is my bosom with dreadful things. Never to be unburdened. The secrets ! — the secrets ! — dead are all who could tell Them — closed is every eye that saw them. They're known but to the Almighty and me.'' Then said Turpin, in pity ineffable for the gallant soldier : " These Are but the common doings of war, good Oliver. Such things as these must be. When man meets man contending. Would that such contentions, never were 1 God will forgive thee, gallant spirit. Time will wear thy grief away. And I say with Malagigi, and as a priest so say I too, Think not only of those thou'st slain ; bethink thee rather of those thou'st saved. Many a gallant gentleman here his safety owes this day to thee." 6o THE DEATH OF ROLAND. " Aye ! " cried many a one around, " thy prowess heroic, Sir Oliver, Hath stayed the battle, ere it became too fierce for us to.live in it." " Think thus of it," continued Turpin. " Standing in the breach, hast thou Averted destruction from thy friends, and, taking life from others, hast Bestowed it, a royal gift, on those who better deserved to have the boon. Here are thy brothers around thee living, and owing their safety to thy hand." Thus they spoke together conferring. Meanwhile Roland about the plain Walkfed, surveying the field and who were down, — a mournful business 'twas. Yet one he girded himself to do ; right grievfed was his royal soul, To think how many gallant Prankish men had met their death that day. " For had it not been I," quoth he, " had it not been for quarrel mine. Nothing of this sad work had ever come about, But, safe and sound. All these poor fellows, who lie weltering here, would at this hour have been Marching along the roads in merry France, where they so yearned to be. This was the day of home-coming. Did I not overhear them laying their plans To one another hopefully, how they purposed in future leading their lives, When after all these years of service they got the discharge they have earned so well. One was to turn a farmer, was't not ? Another, less ambitious, found A cottage and a garden his El Dorado. Poor fellows ! Old Bertrand Born, I heard him, ever wedded to his profession, dilate about a place As drill-instructor to the Cadet School. He's down, good soul, I know. Come, let Me see who else is down — a mournful business this is. And to think An idle quarrel, a thoughtless piece of bickering, could vamp up such A tragedy ! All these poor fellows — Ah, Ganelon ! thou damnfed villain ! thou heartless beast ! What have they done to harm thee — the innocents ? Honest souls, they nothing know. Thank God ! that one of us Paladins has played the traitor. What disgrace. What infamy, were it otherwise I The secret knowledge alone is bad enough. But come, I must go see them all. Belike there's some are still alive, Though well I know the Saracens, — wounded men they are not apt to leave. If any I anywhere haply find, I'll speak kind words to them." Thus he turned, From where he was standing in the left, somewhat towards the centre, where Most on the left extremity of the centre the veterans had fought. And first he found a gallant veteran, Arthur Beaufoys. There he lay, His white face turned to the sky, his sword in his hand a-graspfed firm, and round Him many Saracens. And next, not far away, his comrade-in-arms, Jacques Pelleton, a-lying like him, with many Saracens too around. " These two," said Roland, " have made a raid away from the main division. Their zeal Has carried them hither apart from the rest. Some bold adventure have they dared. Planning it carefully between them. Aye ! and, ere they gave it up, Rare havoc have they wrought." And next, among a lot of Saracens, He saw one man a-lying. " Old Adam Grossetete, by the Lord ! He's not The man to say much, but he doeth it. Much it grieves me to see him down. Now I remember me, when he brought me the standard that I sent him for. He did petition for leave to take a standard or two for himself. And thus His task he hath accomplished. One — two— three. Three standards under him ! So he lies upon a bed of glory. What brave fellows are My men I The world could I have conquered, had the task been set me. Aye ! CANTO VIII. 6i With those who yet remain, the world I'd dare." So on he moved among The slain. And at some space away, down tow'rds the middle of the left Extremity of the centre, he cometh where the main brigade had fought For a long while that day. Here Bertrand Born he sees, quillfed with spears. Alike a porcupine, the grisly veteran lay, and round him lay How many Saracens Roland counted not. Here Roger Nismois, too, And Mathieu Querci, Robin Magret, Andrew Pallizer, Hugh de Rand, The popular major of the veterans, gallant Captain de la Mole, AU were strewing the grass, and others many. Grievfed was Roland's heart. " I knew they were down, for Adam told me of many of these," 'twas thus he said. " I knew they were down, but cannot bear to see them. Let me away ! " 'Twas thus He spoke, and crossing over towards the left wing, ^' I will walk," said he, " In a quieter part, where I may Saracens only see, not my own men So much." So 'gan he crossing towards the left, and as he walked he heard a voice Feebly pronouncing his name, and looking he saw it was an old veteran. Whom he remembered as Ralph Rimourez, and a gallant soldier, though He knew him not so well as some of the others. He had raised himself Upon his elbow, wounded sore and dying surely. Roland ran up, And kneeling down he put his arm around the wounded warrior. "What is it, Ralph ?" he said. " My boy, thou'rt stiU alive ; and bad so e'er As be thy wounds, yet we will doctor thee. Come now ! thou'lt live it out, I know." " Captain, I'm doomed," the veteran whispered. " Soon shall I die. Ev'n as I speak, I feel it coming. Thou'rt going — thou'rt going — that was what I called thee for — Thou'rt going the wrong way, captain. There was the thick of it — over there," as thus He murmured, he pointed his finger with an effort to a spot further adown The centre. " There did most of us fall. I want thee to see it. There I fought Also, until in my ardour I broke away, and chased a lot of them here. Captain, I die. May I take thy hand, and die so ? " Then did Roland take His hand, and thus together, in friendship stern, one died, the other wept. Then Roland rose, and slowly moved, as if unwillingly he went. To where the veteran pointed. There arriving then for hundreds of yards He saw his gallant soldiers strewing the grass ; for hundreds of yards they lay. Among them he walked, knowing them all. Strewing the grass about him they were ; And never a man lay, but ten Saracens or more lay in his neighbourhood. Then, as he stood among his men, all dead around, and saw their sad Stern faces, their weapons firmly grasped even in death, their stern white faces, — Then Roland wept aloud, abandoning himself to ecstasy of sorrow. Striking his breast, he wept. So for a while he stood; then moving away, " This cannot I sustain," said he ; " no further onward will I go. For fear I may see more of this. To other parts I fain must hie. Where I may Saracens rather see, not my own men so much." 'Twas thus He spoke, and made to cross him over towards the left wing. " That is," said he, " A quieter part," So crossed he over towards the middle and back of the left. 'Twas here, though rather towards the front, that he himself and Malagigi Shoulder to shoulder had fought, a-dealing sledge-hammer blows, as Oliver Espied them. So turned he towards the back of the left wing more, leaving the scene Of his and Malagigi's battle. Musing mournfully he moved : Full of sorrow was his soul. Now had he seen Jean Nivernais, The death op roland. Charles Despardu, Francis Marjevals, Louis Vouziers, Hugh Santerre, Pierre Peroigneux — others also ; some of these, his favourite men Were. Here it seemfed a contingent from the main division had Therefore been drafted, and most probably had been sent by Oliver, Ere he began his prowess, — for what purpose, however, Roland could Not tell. " So ye were falling, gallants," thus he said, "and I not far Away, in front of the same wing was fighting. Little did Malagigi and I Know what work was afoot behind ; else would we at once have hied. And given ye welcome help, my braves." Thus as he walkfed amid the back Of the left, he straightway saw before him a devastation vast, as should Some one have gone into a cornfield, and trampled down broadcast the wheat. So did the Saracens prostrate wholesale far and wide lie on the ground. This saw Roland, but amazed only Saracens did he see. " Where are their foemen, then, — my men ? This is great work. Not one has dropped. And yet in countless devastation lie the Saracens far and wide. Who can have fought here, much I marvel. I marvel who the fighters were. Stay what is this? Ah ! now I know it. This object was once King Valdabrun. This, then, is Oger's battle-ground that I am on. Soft ! let me scan It well. All, all is silent now and still ; yet what a turmoil once Must there have been here, while this trampling, while this ravaging went on. As should some one have gone in a cornfield, and trampled down broadcast the wheat. So do the Saracens devastated far and wide appear to be. Aye ! and gallants among them — another crown — and yet another. These The Kings of Minorca, or Formentera, or other Balearic Isles, Doubtless are. Full many a gallant corsair king court keepeth there. See at this fellow ! Nay ! I needn't look at them. God commend me the axe For making death hideous ! What a tartar did they catch in Oger, the knaves ! Here they lie, a holocaust offered to his terrible prowessy. Look at this I — here was a struggle. Here he waxfed mad with rage. And further on, lo ! what a hollow ! Here he made his final stand. Ere they swept him away. And see ! from the hollow there leads a lane, K lane of dead. I walk me down it. Where shall the lane a-lead me to ? " Thus He spoke, and walkfed down the lane. As when in a capital city of Europe, Berlin or Edinburgh, all night long a heavy snow Incessantly from dusk till dawn has fallen ; the city is draped in white. Knee-deep lies the snow on the doorsteps, and in the yards the houses behind. But in the city itself and the streets, from early morn the scavengers With brooms and spades have been at work, clearing the streets for people to pass. In great high walls they have piled the snow, on either side of the causeway a wall. In lanes, that run between embankfed walls of snow, the city's streets Strange apparition wear ; as in a lane embanked with walls of snow. Such was the lane embanked with dead, on either hand a wall. Some hours Before, had Oger, making the lane, hurried. Now Roland walked adown. Down that grim lane he walkfed, following where it led him listlessly. Soon from the left a-bending around at the back of the centre he found it go. Then, as he walked, he knew the route that from the eminence during the fight He saw the giant sweeping. On ran the lane continuous ; on each side Rose the grim walls. Thus, long he wajked at the back of the centre, till at last CANTO VIII. 63 He found himself approaching round to the mouth of the passes on the right. And at the mouth of the passes, lo ! a mighty pit appeared. The lane Ended there abrupt, blocked up with mountains of dead, that rose aloft Circling. It was a crater vast that blocked the way. High rose the sides Around a hollow broad within. So high they rose, that, to see o'er The top of them, a ladder must one have got, and, mounting up unto The topmost step, thus peeped him over. As through a lattice, Roland looked Athrough the crevices of dead, and at the bottom of the pit There lay the giant at last, his face turned to the sky, his axe grasped firm, A sight tremendous. As in a circus tiers and tiers of seats rise up Around th' arena broad, so mounted up, heaped, tiers and tiers of dead Around the vacant ring within, where lay the grim proprietor. Then Sir Roland sighing turned him slowly away, and wandered on. Drearily on to the back of the right wing itself, and so on through the right. Here he saw, stiff, stiff, and stark a-lying, many a baron bold. And many a belted knight of fame, a-lying dead upon the ground. And so he wandered through the right, where carnage terrible had been. And now he cometh to the front of the right, and lo ! another pit he spied — Yet not a pit it was, a ring, not half so high nor nearly so. As that he'd left. 'Twould up to Roland's middle reach or thereabout. No more. Yet was't a fearful wall of dead, that made that humbler ring. " What gallant lieth there ? " he cried. " Who fought at the front of the right wing ? Turpin was there at first, but after he joined the barons at the back. Yet may he hither again have hied, and manfully fighting fallen there. So on he went towards that ring of slain, and looking over it He saw Astolpho. Back he started, surprised and stricken. " What — what — the boy ? I never knew — How cometh this ? He down? Astolpho? Why, amaze. Amaze and sorrow seize my senses. Wherefore was this kept from me? All the Paladins did I think I knew their whereabouts. How long Has he been lying here, and they not tell me o't ? Nay, nay, belike Others knew it as little, or if they knew it, how could I hope them to Come storming through the seethy throng, as if in eagerness so sad A tale to tattle? ' Better hide it,' would they say. This would they say. Knowing my grief." Thus spoke he, looking on Astolpho lying dead. Like a lily he lay. As when a lily, broken at the stalk. Hangs her head a-dying, so did Astolpho lie. Like as the bell Of a tulip, whose bell is streaked with lines of red, so did the blood Streak Astolpho's breast. And Roland observing, thus soliloquised : " Lovely Astolpho of England, whose excellent beauty was girlish and soft among Our bearded warriors, here thou liest, thy life of glory ended, boy. Ere other knights and other chivalrous spirits their life have well begun. In the diminutive length of thy gallant and courtly existence, a catalogue Lengthy and wordy and well nigh measureless, aye ! would I say, there might be made Of prowessies princely, of gallantries glorious, of peerless achievements performed by thee. Great was the glory attended thy gallantry, royal the rumour that round thee hath rung. Thus did it come that the critical Paladins saw the sagacity thee to select To rank in their roll as Twelfth Compagnon, at chivalrous Ricciardetto's death. Who throughout Christendom knew not Astolpho? At every court his name was known j 64 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. In every tented field already frequent his form and familiar his face. Favours fell fast from the fair and the famous. He swum in an ocean of sunny smiles. Lovely Astolpho of England, for excellent beauty in Christendom far renowned, Well hast thou borne thee, and livfed loyally, loyal to Christendom, loyal to me. Well I remember thy chivalrous father, Esplandian, Cornwall's courtly Count, How he committed thee, when but a pinafored boy, to be reared by me to arms. Thou wert some eight or nine years old, when — 'twas a summer's evening — I led thee timidly holding my hand to the Paladins' proud pavili6n. Much amazfed and much distressed didest thou seem at the sight of the casques And glittering breastplates and nodding plumes and lances and arms that lay about. Then did Oger the Terrible take thee, and ride thee awhile upon his knee. Saying, ' My little one, how dost fancy thy new companions ? How dost like This change from battle-dore and shuttle-cock, to swords and spears ? Dost like it ? Eh ? ' ' Aye ! ' saidst thou, a-gathering courage, ' I mean to be a mighty man.' Then did he tell thee to fetch him his club, and he would shew thee the use of it. Then didst thou toddle off, and grasped with both thy baby hands the club. And straining and tugging with all thy might, lifted the handle an inch from the ground. Loudly laughed Oger the Terrible — woe is my heart for the days that are o'er ! — Then said Florismart to him, 'Oger, thou'st a champion to thy mind.' Thus didst thou grow thee up among us, increasing in beauty year by year, Till the boy became a stripling, and the stripling 'came a youth. Florismart taught thee horemanship. Oger was thy wrestling-master. I — I was thy careful master in swordsmanship. All my best passes thou didst know. And Oliver, too, did learn thee many a noble secret of gallant fence. Thus thou grewest up amongst us, increasing in beauty year by year. Till thou becamest the pride of our company, till thou becamest a knight, indeed. Such as Europe and as Christendom might not easily find his peer. With much joy we at last admitted thee into the ranks of the Paladins, Though impartially and most cautiously we the weighty selection made. But of thyself, young gallant, already royal renown thou had wrung from the world By thy unparalleled actions of prowessy. Mate wert thou meet for the Paladins. Thus has it been, and heroic thy history. Poets in ages hence may tell The story how once to the summit of chivalry, once there climbed a beautiful boy. Leaving his fellows a-toiling behind him, and scaling the latitudes airy alone. Thus will they sing. And now I leave thee. Thy courtly career is over at last. So, good night to thee, young Astolpho ! One star less has heaven now." Thus he spoke, and sadly turned away. All, all was still around. Death, death, gaunt death environed him ; and fearful funeral frowned on him, " Nay, but it is all over now," 'twas thus he spoke. " Pve seen them all. All my dead heroes have I seen. No more I care to tarry here." Drearily walked he along, and wended his way among the slain. Towards the centre of the field, where his small army gathered stood. Then did Oliver spying him coming, goto meet him, and take his arm. And thus together mournfully moving, — thus came Roland to his men. And passing to their midst, where Malagigi and valorous Turpin stood Speaking together, on a gentle eminence in the midst of the men. He with Oliver walked, and saying a few words to the two Paladins, Addressed him to harangue the little army, and this oration made : — CANTO VIII. 6S " Soldiers, the fight at last is over. No word, none, have I to say About 't, but what must be entire and unalloyfed praise of your Bold bearing, and cry up your gallantry unto the highest pitch. Well have ye fought, and steadily from first to last ye have obeyed The orders of your officers. Scarcely a man has fallen a Victim to rashness or to carelessness of orders, but those who Have fallen, fell in honest and commanded fight, nobly and well. Your discipline, renowned as it is, has been conspicuously This day displayed. Your valour, which for many years past I have had Ocular demonstration of, and seen shine out superbly oft. To-day has shone out to outbeggar all the lustre of the past : Being put to-day to a severer test than e'er before, I ween. Tried by a fiercer fire, the brighter has the noble ore a-gleamed. No tented field was this. No preparation, no surmise had been Or could be made of battle. Starting this morning on our homeward march With joyful hearts and gay, — careless and free we walked, deeming the war Was over 't last for good. Peace, playful peace prattled around us. Yet, Before the afternoon is o'er, we've fought about as desperate A battle as I e'er remember t' have been in. Legions of foes Came crowding on us. Multitudes untold, computed at a sum Fabulous well nigh by my friends here — yet 'tis not above the mark, If I, who walked the field but now, and saw the seethy crowds, who strew Broadcast the plain, may judge. Over these hordes have ye, my men, by your Gallantry gained a full, a perfect, and complete victory, a Victory that will redound unto the honour of all concerned. Both those who here remain alive, and those of us, who, by a fate Unkind, have fallen. Think we a moment on our brothers, friends, and weigh Their lot with ours. They lie upon a bed of glory ; we live to wear The laurels, and enjoy the fruits of our renown. They, they have nought But abstract fame, a breath wafting over their tombs, yet such a breeze. That willingly would I sepulchred be with them, to have my tomb Eternal wooed by such a wind. Beautiful sleepers ! Oh for such a night To end my days ■ Now, brothers, if ye list, all, all, the fates of all. Who are 't have fallen, how they fell, I can recount. Yet much of this, Much, for the present, needless I opine. They who are missing, ye Well by the gaps within your ranks may know. Hereafter, he who would Fain know the death and glory of any, let him freely come to me. And ask. Then will I tell him to the letter. All, all, I've seen them all. My bonny boys, and know their whereabouts. And I must tell ye that All who are missing — sad news ! — are dead. Ye know the Saracens — not one Unkilled they've left of those who're down. Only one breather did I find — ■ Old Ralph Rimourez — Aye ! 'twas he. He died in my arms. The rest were cold Before I saw them. So much then o' th' history of the fight I tell Ye now, and more hereafter will I tell you at our leisure. Aye ! To you, and to the world I'll publish it. The courts of Christendom Shall ring with your brave brothers' deeds, and too with yours. Now, comrades, then. The fight is over, and the battle won. Now comes the time for rest. No longer will I here delay ye listening further, than to tell K 66 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. How, a-with pomp sublime and pageantry of funeral, I propose Interring our dead heroes; — in royal convoy shall their relics be Transported to our native land, gay France — not two hours hence it lies — And there interr&d with such state as suits the bravest of the brave. This duty to a picked band of us we well may c6mmit, and The rest of us our onward march pursue, and bide at the other end The c6rtege coming. Our good emperor surely will grace the act With his most royal presence — -a stately funeral shall our brothers' be. Nor wanting shall hereafter be pale marble crosses and sublime Monuments reared, though the real monument shall be the thanks And memories of Christendom. One word to end with — which I put In form of question to yourselves. What say ye now? One hour's repose. And then to march again, and reach your homes to-night ? or rather would Ye, as not wishing sight of native land and joys of home the self- Same day, on which so many of our brothers dear, by cruel fate Struck down, have fallen, almost in sight of that dear home they longfed for No less than ye — then, would ye rather bivouac on the field to-night, And not until to-morrow 'gin the march, which, tinctured with regret. Must yet the happiest be, that now for ten long years ye e'er have ta'en ? Say which ye will, my comrades. 'Tis but fair that ye have voice in this. And as ye wish, so shall it be." Thus ended Roland, and beturned Himself to the three Paladins ; and he and valorous Malagigi And Oliver and Turpin talked together, discussing the late fight. Then the veterans and the barons and the belted knights of fame — Sore, sorely thinned were they, and mighty few they seemed now a-by Contrast to what they were that morning, ere the battles had begun — Then the veterans and the barons and the belted knights of fame With small delay opinions took of one another, and choosing then Spokesmen, the spokesmen thus to royal Roland addressed themselves to speak : And first did speak the spokesman of the barons, gallant Duke Gaifier : " Sir Roland, hath the suffrage of my comrades come unquestioned At once to a conclusion, and the resolution of the choice Which with consideration kind thou now hast offered us. We will Not quit the field to-night. Not home we'll go, and pass the night of such A day in halls of gay festivity and welcome, a day that hath Done to their death some of our dearest. Too much sorrow would tincture our joy. To-morrow, haply, we may be more fit for it. Meanwhile to-night We camp upon the field. Also, Sir Roland, we are sorely tired. Some of us say that not one foot after the other could they drag. To walk e'en two hours' stretch ; and all of us confess to sore fatigue. Nathless had we so endured, if need be, and had marchfed on. But since the choice is offered, here will we to-night repose." Thus spoke The baron, and thus Sir Roland, " Thy answer, Duke, is what I had indeed Expected. I praise ye for the love ye owe your comrades. And as to tired, Why, so am I. And mightily glad shall I be t' have a long night's rest. Before we further move. Now, Anthony, what say'st thou ? " " Captain, the same." Thus spoke the veteran, Anthony Broune, speaking for the others. " We Sore grieved are at our dear comrades' fates. I too, as Duke Gaifier, CANTO IX. 67 Speak for the rest, the same. Hardly shall we reap pleasure much from sight Of wife and children on a day that' s done to death so many of Our best belovfed mates. We fain would drop a tear or two o'er them Among ourselves, ere we do hie us to romping children and buxom dames. And those trim homes, where, thanks to thy great kindness, in the future we May live a-free from want and care, and spin our yarns, and comfort give To our poor comrades' widows. Also, Captain, we are sorely tired. Speaking for myself, my joints do ache again. I'm stiff from top To toe. Scarce one foot further could I trudge, indeed, e'en though I tried. And so it is with all the rest. They're battered sore, poor boys, they are. Herbert Morelle, his hands are raw with grasping of his sword all day. And dozens like him, Reginald Dubois, we have almost to hold him up. And others are as tired as he. It is the toughest battle, we All agree, we e'er have fought. Right glad shall we be to bivouac here." Then said Roland, " Aye, and ye shall. We all alike do need repose. So let us take it one and all. The freshest of you your captains shall Despatch adown the valley for wood and water. There is a rivulet Runs at the back. I marked it. At the bottom of yon slope it is. There shall some of ye fetch us water. And bring wood with you for the fires To-night. After an hour or two's repose, a foraging party I'll Despatch to bring provisions in. Then will we dinner have, and then. When the sun sets, to bed. Now, gentlemen, your couches ! " Thus speaking he Sat down, and the others with him on the grass. In knots they sat about. Sitting they talked of the day's events, and fought the battle o'er in words. CANTO IX. Meanwhile the freshest of the veterans, a chosen party small. Volunteering for the work, led by old Anthony Broune, had hied Them down towards the brook designed by Roland, carrying helmets, and In time returned with water, giving it to their thirsty comrades. With What pleasure did the tirfed fighters quaff the wave, swilling it out Of helmets ! Plenty there was, enough for all. And much refreshed did They seem to be. Then said Roland to Oliver, as they sat upon The grass together, "Sore fatigued am I, Oliver. But what must thou Be, who hast done much more to-day than I ? " And thus said Oliver, " Brother, I would not say much about 't. But, as I was standing there just now. Scarce could I hold my back up straight. Full length flat do I mean to lie." Then said Roland, " How are thy hands ? " Then said Oliver, " Numbed and raw. Scarce can I grasp these blades of grass. They cut my flesh and make it smart." Thus spoke Roland and Oliver together conferring. Meanwhile those Freshest of the veterans, a party small, adown the vale Had gone with swords to cut the wood, or liefer to gather it as it lay. Dispensing with the labour. Sticks and brushwood they gathered, and wood they cut. Billets for fires that night. Meanwhile the barons sat together in knots. 68 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And thus conferring together spoke the barons and belted knights of fame : — " Of horses caparisoned, wounded and dying, of high-mettled riderless horses a-flying, Of spirited chargers in cruelty slaughtered, to vanquish their valorous riders' resistance. Of horses abused, unfairly and treated, to-day we have seen us enough and to spare. Terrible losses we all have sustained. We have survived, but where are our steeds P Scarcely can twenty among us, in verity, boast of retaining our horses alive. Well did Berengier ride at the vizier of the, Tunisian Prince, Haroun. Well did Engelier run at IVIustapha, the Sultan's lieutenant, and lay him low. Well did Amulier, well did Avolio, hie them at Valdabrun, planting their blows Fruitless, indeed, yet stoutly and doughtily. Well did he bear him, the brave Sir Beuve. Well have we all of us from the beginning our valour revealed and prowess performed. Terrible weariness now doth oppress us. Gladly we sit on the turf at our ease. Gladly we rest us, the battle now over, and talk with delight of the deeds of the day." Thus as they spoke, came Malagigi, walking among the knots of men. And thus said valorous Malagigi, " Ye are tired, and so am I. Here will I sit me down to rest me among ye all, and con the fight. Did ye mark two Saracen champions, brawny ruffians did they seem ; From the left they drew their party, where I fought them for a while. And, round at the back of the centre going, seemed as they made for your neighbourhood ? " And thus spoke a bold-faced baron : '"Twas shortly after Sir Roland's ride. When he slew the Indian Sultan, and raged terribly in the rear. Dealing about him destruction and havoc, and scattering squadrons, like chaff in the breeze, — Where he rode, there was shouting of captains and breaking of companies, terrible rout And foul disorder — afterward, when he hied him more towards the left, Round they came, those two same champions, with their party of Saracens, And dealt some carnage in our foremost lines at first. Count Hugh de Bris, Gallant Vicomte de Peyrainieu, and his brother, the Sieur de Faux, Also Captain Raymond de Marchant, did those brawny champions slay." " How did 't end, then ? " said Malagigi. " Duke Gaifier," the baron said, " Ran through one of them, and the other was spitted by Baron Fulke of Rheims." " Have ye marked," cried Malagigi, " the rascals' tactics the livelong day — All athrough the host they did it, most unfairly did they act — How they made them at our horses, and, if not us, our steeds, at least. Slaughtered perniciously, killing the animals in default of their masters, eh ? Of horses slain deliberately, of spirited chargers martyrfed. Only to put at a disadvantage their riders, scarce have I seen in all My fights the like.'' Thus Malagigi, and thus the barons to him replied : — " Of horses abusfed, unfairly and treated, to-day we have seen us enough and to spare. Terrible losses we have all sustained. Most of our spirited chargers are down. Scarcely can twenty among us, in verity, boast of retaining our horses alive." And thus replied Sir Malagigi, rapping out an oath, " I am With you in that. My excellent war-horse half way through the fight was speared." Meanwhile the freshest of the veterans, a party small, adown the vale. Volunteering for the work, led by old Anthony Broune, were still With swords a-cutting wood, or liefer did they gather it as it lay. Dispensing with the labour. Sticks and brushwood they gathered, and wood they cut. Billets for fires that evening. But the other tirfed veterans lay And sat together in knots about. And thus together they conversed : CANTO IX. 69 "What may the time be? " said a veteran to his fellows. " By the sun," Thus another replied, " I make it somewhere on past three o'clock. Since five o'clock, or a little after in the morning, we have been At it. Sore fatigufed do I feel. My bones do ache again." " Ten mortal hours we've been a-fighting," thus another continued, " And now at last we've got the rest, that we all so sorely need. Pleasant is the afternoon. And the sun is not too hot." " I wonder, now," crifed another, " how our comrades with Charlemagne Are getting on. Full many a mile must they be now in front of us. They have been marching all the while that we have been fighting, and then they had A good start, too. Some thirty or forty miles were they in front of us. Before we entered the pass this morning. Some sixty or seventy miles they must Be now ahead. They've been marching on, unconscious of what was happening behind." " And yet they say," said another veteran, "that if our captain had only liked To sound that famous horn of his, that people talk so much about. He might have given the Emperor news, and brought him back to assist us. Aye ! All that way the horn will carry, so I've heard." And another said, " Aye ! so he could, 'tis true indeed. But would you have him sound his horn. And call for help — he, the greatest captain in Christendom ? No, no, not he, I warrant you ! His honour was engaged in not calling for help." "Yes, and our own too," chimed in another. " Would you have had us call for help ? " " Not I," crifed the first speaker. " Mistake me not, nor think that I Wanted him to sound his horn. I did not mean so by what I Was saying. No, no ! I've got my pride, as well as you or the captain himself." Thus did the veteran with oaths and assertions deep and dauntless confirm his words. " How are our comrades marching merrily, marching cheerily, on their way," Thus were another knot a-talking, " little dreaming of what has been A-taking place behind ! Full many a mile must they be now in front Of us, unconscious marching on." "Aye ! " said one of the veterans, " And, as luck would have it, there's my old comrade-in-arms among them too, Robert Tavernier. He did not apply, till after the list was closed. For service in the rear, and so he had to go with the younkers in The van. For his own sake, I am glad he missed this bout of fight, although Mightily might I have wished sometimes by my side in the terrible fray." " I am with you,'' cri^d another, that was the veteran Arthur Roze. " Old Peter Petit, my gallant comrade, for the first time for forty years Was absent from my side to-day. 'Tis the first fight we've been separate in ; Nor should we have been sundered to-day, had we dreamed a fight would be. But it was peace to all appearance, and he wished to get early home. Ho>yever, I've done my bout of fighting to my mind. A couple of Dozen of rascally Saracens have I this day sent to their last account. Had he been with me, at least a hundred we had been answerable for." " Aye ! there are gallants in the van," thus said another veteran, " Despite the large infusion of youngsters. And what's more, there's plenty of men. Beside our handful they are legions. How had we turned the tables, and Sent the rogues packing, had the Emperor been apprised of our perilous plight. And turned him back with his thousands hitherward, coming just in the nick of time ! But most unfortunate was the distance that lay between us on the road. 70 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And the lamentable want of intelligence twixt the two divisi6ns." " And yet all this that thou pratest of, Joscelin, easily might have taken place. And the Emperor with his forty thousand had ere this been on the field, Had our captain but brought himself to sound his horn, and call for aid. But there it is — he won't. Not he ! He'd rather be cut to pieces first." "And I am with him," cried another. "And I " — " And I," they chorussed around. Thus did the veterans, with oaths and assertions deep and dauntless, confirm their words. " But is it not strange," said another veteran, " about that wonderful horn, you know ? For all the distance that is betwixt us, and miles and miles of road between. He might have given the Emperor news, and brought him back at once. 'Tis true. For twenty or thirty miles the horn will carry, so I've heard." " More, more " — Chimed in half a dozen veterans, speaking at once, and one of them Said, " For thirty, forty, fifty, aye ! and more than that, when he likes. Can he make his horn to carry." " Who has heard it ? " " That have I. 'Twas at the siege of Pampeluna — there's something funny about that horn ; It's not all right, I tell ye, mates. You know the stories of how he got it. And how he takes such care of it, he never will suffer it out of his sight By day or night, and some will tell you he sleeps with the horn about his neck. It's not all right, that horn, I tell ye. There something funny about it, mates. Well, 'twas at the siege of Pampeluna, some six years ago — Old Roger Collart over there, he was with me at the time — 'Twas at the siege of Pampeluna, after we'd taken the town by storm. To celebrate the victory meetly. Sir Knight whips out his horn, and blows A blast. And may I, as long as I live, never hear him blow again ! Such a deafening din and uproar ! — They say that people heard the sound At Bayonne in France, that's over fifty miles from Pampeluna. Only once or twice he's been known to blow it, and there is once for you." " How did he get it? " said another. "There's the mystery," said the first. " No one knows. But I remember, oh ! a many year ago. He appeared in camp one morning with the horn, and ever since Never has he been seen without the horn — and that's all I can tell you, friend." "How are our comrades marching merrily, marching cheerily, on their way ! " Thus another group were saying ; " ever further, hour by hour. Through this day of dole and danger have they drawn them from our side. What provision of assistance, what redoubtable defence. What auxiliary protection, hour by hour, the livelong day. Like a lazy tide retreating, slowly ebbed, alas, away ! Forty thousand valiant soldiers would have made a gallant show. Streaming o'er the heights to help us, bringing joy to us below. First would come the Paris regiments, led by Baron Fulke of Troyes. Well we know their bright white armour, well we know their martial tread. These alone are twice three thousand, these alone outnumber us. Next ten thousand Aquitainians, gallant pikemen, follow would. Shouldering pointed pikes and halberds, marching fiercely to the fray. Next a troop of knights and barons, that Limousin sends to war. Scions of the noblest houses eke of Marche and Angouleme. What though they and all the forty thousand are but boys to us ? What though we can forty, fifty years of service boast, and they. CANTO IX. 71 To our forty years of service, can but boast them six or ten ? Yet redoubtable assistance had they lent us in the fray. Comrades all, untold assistance we have lost in losing them. Next the cuirassiers of Normandy, gallant sprightly youths, would come, Riding their jennets with ease and dexterity, jingling and jangling their bridles and reins. Next a noble sight of meaning, mid a serried gay brigade On the breeze would come a-floating our great Emperor's ensign. He himself would follow after, with a courtly company. With the Paladins that with him marched have among the van. Lordly Salomon, King of Brittany, Naimes, the Duke of Bavaria, Brave Rinaldo, the chivalrous Paladin, known in the lists of Ascalon, Also Sir Ganelon — gallant knights, and royal doers of doughty deeds. As the hawks unto the quarry, would they come a-riding on. Then more barons, to our barons boys indeed, yet gallant knights, Gaily conversing would amble together, their pennons flashing white in the sun. Behind them, in excellent steady monotony, files of mailed men would march, Streaming in an endless prospect down the valleys to the vale. Comrades all, untold assistance we have lost in losing them." Thus the veterans, together conferring, sat in knots about the grass. Meanwhile those freshest of the veterans, a party small, adown the vale, Were busy engaged in cutting wood, or liefer they gathered it as it lay. Dispensing with the labour. Sticks and brushwood they gathered, and wood they cut. Billets for fires that evening. Busily did they all their task pursue. And now their task was almost finished. Soon would they bring the faggots in. And thus a party of tirfed veterans, marking their comrades at work, did say, " Busily are our comrades at work. Soon will they bring the faggots in. With what joy, amid our watchfires, shall we seek at last repose ! " And thus a veteran : " Long, I fancy, ere the evening closes in, Shall we, one, to-day, and all of us, in welcome slumber lie." And thus the veterans : " Summer sunsets, summer sunsets, ye are late. Ye are late and long of coming unto tired and weary men." And thus a veteran : " Scarcely will the sun have set ere nine to-night. Now 'tis barely half-past three. 'Troth, I shall set before the sun." And thus the veterans : " Sith we all to such a weariness confess. What must our leaders be, who to-day have done so much more than us ? Well have they fought, and well have borne them ; all the dangerous coups were theirs. Now we see them, the battle over, shorn of almost half their list. Young Sir Astolpho, Sir Oger the Terrible, and the brave Sir Florismart, All lie dead upon the ground. Thus, out of seven, four remain. Still the gallants are not ended : still there are safe and out of harm Lordly Salomon, King of Brittany, Naimes the Duke of Bavaria, Brave Sir Rinaldo, the chivalrous Paladin known in the lists of Ascalon, Also Sir Ganelon — " "Aye, Sir Ganelon ! " thus an enquiring veteran said. " What think ye, mates, of that same Sir Ganelon, that ye so blithely speak about? What think ye, now ? Is it not strange that it happened, this treachery, with such celerity Almost immediately after his embassy down to the crafty Saracen's town .■' " Thus he spoke, the enquiring veteran, muttering other words beside. And thus replied a burly veteran, speaking in answer for the rest : 72 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. " Tush ! " replied the burly veteran, " never tell such tales to me. Think ye a Paladin e'er in conspiracy foul and in villainy herding with knaves. Herding with Saracen knaves, would plot a damnfed plot alike to this ? No, no, Geoiifrey ! Think thee twice, man, ere thou whisper thy thoughts again." " But," persisted the enquiring veteran, " how else could it come about. Unless a traitor in our camp had given them some intelligence ? How did they know our line of march, else ? Did they follow us in the rear ? Did they hang upon our flanks, and, suddenly skirting round on apt Occasion, here ensconce themselves, when they saw us make this way ? No, not they ! I teU you, they knew it long before — aye ! much before Either you or I did know it, and made their preparati6ns. Is it not natural to surmise so ? How else can ye explain it all." Then the burly veteran, rubbing his eyes, exclaimed, " Am I awake ? There's something, 'troth, in what thou sayest. I never thought of this before." And thus the other veterans said : " Have a care, Geoffrey, what thou say'st, — Thus to tax Sir Ganelon, with such perfidious treachery," " Nay, but," said the enquiring veteran, " don't you remember the talk at the time. How he had quarrelled with the captain, and swore to be revenged on him ? I remember it. I can put two and two together, you see. 'Twas at that time that he rode on his embassy down to the crafty Saracen's town. Who left our camp some half-hour after, bound on the self-same journey, eh ? Why, that Saracen lord, Blancandrin, he that brought the mules and gifts From the caliph to our emperor. Think you, Sir Ganelon and he Met on the way and talked it over ? " — " Hush ! hush ! " cried the veterans, " Here comes the captain. Hush ! he would'nt like to hear us talking thus." For at this moment royal Roland, walking among the knots of men, Passed the place, and nodded cheerily to the veterans, as they sat. Thus he passed amid his tirfed men. " Nay, do not rise," said he. As group of veterans after veterans made to rise them as he came. " Sit ye still, my gallant hearts, and take the restye've earned so well." Thus he passed amid his tirfed men, and thus he passed away. Now, when he was out of hearing, thus began again to speak The enquiring veteran : " Is it not strange, that it happened, this treachery, with such celerity Almost immediately after Sir Ganelon's embassy down to the Saracens' town ? Mightily must we imagine, I fancy, he is the very traitor knave, Who planned the conspiracy, plotted the perfidy, working maliciously bad revenge. For fain would I know, if ye list to enlighten me, how else it could come about. Had not a traitor among us a-given the Saracens some intelligence ? None will I name in particular, comrades, sith thus it hath pleased ye to take me, none — None in particular, yet will I stickle, a traitor, a traitor, there must have been. How did they know our line of march, else ? Did they follow us in the rear ? Did they hang upon our flanks, as we were marching day by day? Say, have we ever, from Cordova hither, a-spifed a single Saracen soul ? Has the horizon a-ever revealed a moving mass, that meaneth men ? Did they hang upon our flanks, then, and, suddenly skirting round on apt Occasion, here ensconce themselves, when they saw us make this way ? No, not they ! Excuse them, why should they? I tell ye, they knew our line of march. They knew it, I tell ye, long before that either you or I did know 't. CANTO IX. 73 They knew it, I tell ye, when but the Emperor, and but the Paladins, and but Sir Ganelon, Aye ! but Sir Ganelon— for he's a Paladin, and such a Paladin ! God forgive Me for dragging that title proud in the dirt ! —but he's a damnfed villain, friends." " Have a care, Geoffrey, have a care," thus the other veterans said, " Or thou'lt have to prove thy words, when we get to Paris, friend." "What care I," said the enquiring veteran, " what I prove or what I say ? Why, it is evident — don't you remember the talk that ran in the camp at the time. How he had quarrelled with the captain; and swore to be revenged on him ? And after the quarrel, and after the wrangle, and after the oath to be revenged. Almost immediately after and instantly, down he rode to the Saracens' town. Who left the camp some half-hour after, bound on the self-same journey, eh ? Why, that Saracen lord, Blancandrin, he that brought the mules and gifts From the caliph to our emperor. Think ye not it is likely, mates. That he and Sir Ganelon met on the road ? I can put things together, you see. He was present at the quarrel, at all events, and knew about 't. What more likely, prithee, then, than that these pair of rogues should meet. And lay their heads together over a plan to wreak the cursed revenge ?" '"Troth and," now said some of the veterans, "there's something, Geoffrey, in what thou say'st. There's something, 'troth, in what thou sayest. We never thought of this before." " And tell me," continued the enquiring veteran, " why did he stay so long away ? Why did he dawdle for weeks and weeks down in the crafty Saracens' town, And he who, as we suppose, at first so terribly fearful was to go ? Was it not, think ye, to gain them time to make their preparati6ns ? While he was paltering, dallying, dawdling, supposed to be signing treaties and terms. What was a-doing ? I'll tell ye. A mighty host from half the Saracen world. From foreign parts, from distant countries of heathen Saracen beyond the sea. Was mustering fast, in thousands and thousands streaming into sunny Spain. When all is ready, back comes our gallant, as if, an't please ye, nothing's amiss. And tells his tale, and states his eagerness to march with the Emperor in the van. But why so eager to go in the van ? I'll tell ye. Because the rear was doomed. It was our captain he wanted to catch. He knew that the captain would march in the rear." '"Troth and," now said most of the veterans, "there's something, Geoffrey, in what thou say'st. There's something in't. Most terribly like the reality does it seem to be." " And thus," continued the enquiring veteran, " thus would he speak to the Caliph, ' Sire, Sire, your Majesty, mighty Saracen, puissant Infidel Prince Supreme, Since thou hast pleased to go with me in this just act of punishment, Which shall destroy from off the earth the greatest captain in Christendom, Now must I tell you what there needs us, what requirements we must have. To effect our purpose surely, and leave no hitches in the scheme. Round about this Roland, a lot of carrion cluster ' (that means us). ' These must first be got a-rid of, ere we can hope to strike at him. They are a crew of veteran soldiers, that he takes about with him. They love him as their life ; they're brave as lions; doughty, dauntless men. Such devotion have they to him, that only through their breasts can you Pierce him. It 'hoves us, therefore, carefully all our measures to prepare. There needs the mightiest armament. Sire, that the Saracen world can boast- Not that the Saracens are not brave; but then, these scurvy carrion. They live a-long ; they're hard of dying ; they take a lot of killing, they.' 74 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. (So we do, my brothers, as we've shown them even now to-day.) ' Then when the ofFal are exterminated, and the ground is clear for us. Then shall the stalled ox be led at last unto the sacrifice. At thy feet, as at an altar, mighty sire, shall he be slain. And with him will perish instantly all the power of Christendom. Send for other kings and princes, for to witness of the sight. Witness the glorious immolation I propose to thee to-day.' Thus would he speak, and then the musters of the men he'd go to view. Criticising their equipments, advising this, commending that, And all to bring his brothers' ruin, to compass royal Roland's fall. Baulked has he been entirely — yet what havoc has there been ! Think of our gallant comrades weltering even now upon the field ! And all to please Sir Ganelon, and all to plaster up his sore. Think of the widows and the orphans, that await the news in France ! Think of the homesteads rendered desolate, and the mourning wives and babes ! And all to please Sir Ganelon, and all to plaster up his sore." Then the veterans, thus replying to their comrade, then did say : "If this be true that thou maintainest, cursfed the hour when he was born ! Cursfed the mother that bore him ! Accursed, thrice accurs&d be his name ! Mourning widows, orphaned children, are the offerings to his pride." And thus cried the enquiring veteran : " Cursfed the hour when Sir Ganelon Rode to the crafty Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they, And there a-plotted this damned conspiracy, bring destruction and rue in its train ! Cursed his empty pride and arrogance, thus to sacrifice to spite. Thus devote to wounded honour sacred lives of guiltless men ! Many a gallant soldier this morning, belted knight and baron bold. Marching along on their journey joyfully, joyfully nursing the thoughts of home. Promising soon to be in merry France, their native land, once more. By this afternoon a-weltering lie in blood upon the plain." And thus the veterans did cry : " Cursed the hour when Sir Ganelon Rode to the crafty Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they. And there a-plotted this cursed conspiracy, bringing destruction and rue in its train ! " Thus the veterans and the enquiring veteran together spoke. And thus a party of gallant veterans in their neighbourhood conferred : '' Well are we pleased at the prospect of seeing our homes in merry France once more. Six long years have we served in perpetual conflict, with never the harness off Our backs. And children that toddled and scarcely reached our knee, by this will have grown Into boys and girls, and boys and girls will have grown into strapping youths and maids. Much do we yearn for the sight of our little ones once again. We wager our wives Are sitting and spinning and sadly complaining that never their husbands they will see." And thus a veteran : " Doubtless my friends, and even my little wife herself Imagine me dead and gone. To-morrow how I shall surprise them all ! How they will hang on my lips for intelligence ! How I shall tell my tales of war, And fight my battles over and over ! " And thus another veteran Did cry : " Of all this troublesome, wearisome war I've had enough and to spare. I shall turn farmer, and hang up my buckler, to rust as it may at my chimney side. I shall plant vines, or sow potatoes. An excellent husbandman I shall make. Strong in the arm to drive my furrows." And thus the veterans did cry ; CAATO X. 75 " Well are we pleased at the prospect of seeing our homes in merry France once more. Six long years have we served in perpetual conflict, with never the harness off Our backs. And children that toddled and scarcely reached our knee, by this will have grown Into boys and girls, and boys and girls will have grown into strapping youths and maids. IVIuch do we yearn for the sight of our little ones once again. We wager our wives Are sitting and spinning and sadly complaining that never their husbands they will see. But let us not in the joys we promise us, joys of home and happy friends. Let us not forget our dear ones, who by cruel fate are slain. Many a gallant soldier this morning, belted knight and baron bold, Marching along, and joyfully nursing the thoughts which give us such delight. Soon again to be in merry France, their native home, once more, Now lie slaughtered and a-weltering in their blood upon the plain. Such the effect of the weavings of treachery, such the entangling toils of knaves. Sure we are fortunate, sure we are favoured such fell treachery t' have escaped. Well are we pleased at the prospect of seeing our homes in merry France once more. Let us now duly consider and estimate how this treachery came about. Was it the Saracen, who with sagacity surely unparalleled plotted the plan. Ambushing artfully, marshalling masterly, massing mysteriously masses of men. Strangely surmising, divinely divining, guiltily guessing our homeward road ? Or was it fortune that favoured his foray, and roaming at random about the realm Did he by accident stumble upon us, astonished equally he as we ? Or did conspiracy, lifting its livery e'en in the heart of our own good camp, (Since it was prattling peace was around us, and toying tranquillity tethered us in. And hardly could any intuitive aptitude augur the route of our homeward road). Or did conspiracy lifting its livery, then, in the heart of our own good camp. Pack with the Saracens, craftily courting for object unknown our overthrow ? Was there conspiracy e'er in the embassy lately discharged by Ganelon ? Did he, combining and badly designing, a-league him in villainy vile with the knaves ? Did he, pursuing his comrades' undoing, a-throw to the winds his lealty true ? Let us now duly consider and estiniate how this treachery came about. Was there conspiracy e'er in the embassy lately discharged by Ganelon ? Surely, nay, surely he never would league him with Saracen caitiffs in villainy vile. Never would Paladin palter with enemy, plotting and planning his comrades' rue. Such is the havoc a-workfed among us, such and so many the brave men down. E'en would the spectacle tragic elicit compassion, compassion, from hearts of stone. Surely, nay, surely there ne'er would conspiracy quicken and spring in our own good camp. Never would Paladin palter with enemy, plotting and planning his comrades' rue. Yet it is possible that in the embassy, lately discharged by Ganelon, Savour of treachery, purfle of perfidy, might an insinuation find. What hath resulted then ? What hath the issue been ? Hundreds of brave men sent to their Veterans valiant and knightly companions of courtly chivalry slaughtered wide. [doom, Thus'hath it been in the heart of the battlefield. How hath it been in merry France? Desolate dwellings and sorrowing widows and families orphaned and forlorn. If it be true what we maintain, cursfed the hour that he was born ! Cursfed the mother who bore him ! Accursed, thrice accurs&d be his name ! Sorrowing widows and orphanfed children are the offerings to his pride. Scarcely a village in Maine or in Picardy, scarcely a hamlet in Aquitaine, Scathless will go from the general mourning decreed to please Sir Ganelon, 76 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Weep and lament, ye matrons of Brittany, weep, ye dames of Burgundy fair. Soon will intelligence fearful a-reach ye, soon will ye widows' weeds a-wear. If this be true what we maintain, cursfed the hour when Sir Ganelon Rode to the crafty Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they. And there a-plotted this cursed conspiracy, bringing destruction and rue in its train ! ' And thus another party of veterans, sitting near, conferring were : " Did we not think it and shrewdly surmise it? Did we not deem and divinely divine it. E'en at the time of the perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracens' town ? E'en at the time of the artful ambassadry, did we not all of us say the ambassador Artful and treacherous, perjured and impious, faithless and graceless appeared to be, E'en at the time of the perilous embassy down to the crafty Saracens' town ? Did we not think it and shrewdly surmise it ? Did we not deem and divinely divine it? Did we not think it and shrewdly surmise it ? Cursed the hour that Sir Ganelon Rode to the crafty Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they. And there a-plotted this cursed conspiracy bringing destruction and rue in its train I " And thus another party of veterans, sitting near, conferring were : '■■ So did we say in the brunt of the battle, so did we say in the thick of the fray, ' There has conspiracy plotted this villainy, there has conspiracy been at work. There is conspiracy,' so did we argue, 'and well do we know the conspirator.* Well do we know the accursfed conspirator. Cursed the hour when Sir Ganelon Rode to the crafty Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they ! " And thus another party of veterans, sitting near them, thus were saying : " Well and fortunate for that Sir Ganelon, he is nowhere in our neighbourhood ! Else most certainly, else most assuredly he should not escape our rage. Swords could never keep a-sheathed and scabbarded, if near in neighbourhood of such a knave. Ye would come, ye bonny blades, a-peeping out, and show your glitters to the scoundrel's eyes. Fain would ye, we know, a-be a-feasting on his lily flesh and tasting of his blood. To see if veritable flesh and blood compose so damnable a knave as he. Well and fortunate for that Sir Ganelon, he is nowhere in our neighbourhood ! Else most certainly, else most assuredly he should not escape our rage." Thus the veterans with oaths and assertions angry and fierce confirmed their words. CANTO X. Thus were they talking, the tirfed veterans, sitting in knots about the grass. Meanwhile those freshest of the veterans, a party small party adown the vale, Who were engaged in cutting wood, or liefer they gathered it as it lay, Dispensing with the labour — sticks and brushwood they gathered, and wood they cut. Billets for fires that evening— busily had they all their task pursued. And now their task it was complete. Now were they bringing the faggots in. One by one they came arriving with the faggots in their arms. Gladly did they throw their armfuUs on the ground. And, taking breath A moment, next commenced to stack them, addressing to their labours, as One by one they came arriving with the faggots in their arms. Now, not far from the gallant veterans, the belted knights and barons bold. CANTO X. 77 Forming together a friendly fraternity, sat in a circle upon the grass. Hither walked the bold Sir Oliver, leaning wearily on his spear, Dragging his legs behind him heavily. What contrast did now appear Twixt the tired and weary soldier, and the gallant, who this morn, Single-handed, with desperate daring, had wrecked the mighty Saracen host ! Thus he through the knots of veterans walked, supporting his tired steps, (As upon his crutch a cripple, so Sir Oliver leant on his spear,) Towards the barons and Malagigi, who was sitting in the ring. There were they sitting in friendly fraternity, the belted knights and barons bold. And thus together conferring were the barons and belted knights of fame : — " Of horses caparisoned, wounded and dying, of high-mettled riderless horses a-flying. Of spirited chargers in cruelty slaughtered, to vanquish their valorous riders' resistance. Of horses abused, unfairly and treated, to-day we have seen us enough and to spare. Terrible losses we all have sustained. We have survived, but where are our steeds ? Scarcely can twenty among us, in verity, boast of retaining our horses alive. Yet in despite of the infidel's villainy, yet in despite of his arts unfair. Yet in despite of his notable knavery, thus to bereave us, and cruelly grieve us At seeing our spirited chargers in hundreds a-spearfed and maimfed, a-houghfed and lamed, Unfairly abused, to vanquish their valorous riders' resistance — yet have we Perfectly conquered in combat unparalleled, yet have we victory won supreme. Well did Berengier ride at the vizier of the Tunisian prince, Haroun. Well did Engelier run at Mustapha, the Sultan's lieutenant, and lay him low. Gallantly didest thou, Hubert de Longueville, gallantly didest thou, Comte d'Auxerre, Gallantly didest thou, Brian de Mercier, bear thee and battle amid the fray. Well have the barons of Berry a-borne them, well have the knights of Burgundy fair. Well have we aU of us from the beginning our valour revealed and prowess performed. Terrible weariness now doth oppress us. Gladly we sit on the turf at our ease. Gladly we rest us, the battle now over, and talk with delight of the deeds of the day. Early this morning, when Phcebus adorning the reddening sky with colour fair Smilingly promised us peace and propitious return to merry France once more. Could we have thought us, that fortune had brought us, or ere the afternoon had come. One of the toughest encounters in memory? Could we have e'er surmised the same (Since it was prattling peace was around us, and toying tranquillity tethered us in) ? Yet have we met with unnumbered multitudes, yet have we fought with foemen dire. Who for their desperate daring, in verity, worthier were of a better cause. Multitudes infinite, hither manoeuvred with arts of skilfullest strategy. Guided by generals, whose sage prescience, sure, must amaze us mightily. Thus to have strangely surmised and duly divined the route of our homeward road — These fell multitudes came upon us. Sore has it taxed our prowess high Back to beat their bold battalions, down to strike their brawny braves. Sore has it taxed us. Yet our fortitude have we amply evidenced. Up to its crack have we harkfed our mettle. All our stalwartest powers have we Unbuckled, and, straining our strength to its uttermost, victory thus have we won supreme. Terrible weariness now doth oppress us. Gladly we sit on the turf at our ease. Gladly we rest us, the battle now over, and talk with delight of the deeds of the day." " Twice," a-cried Sir Malagigi, " was I in danger sore. The first Time was when on my journey to aid Sir Oger, whose sad loss We all deplore, so doughty a champion, such an eater of Saracens, — 78 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Do ye remember, before the battle of Fontinella, what took place? A duel " — " Yes," exclaimed a baron, " before the fortune of general fight, A duel was held, to determine the day, and spare the fight's necessity. Well I remember how hardly Sir Roland and Sir Oliver could consent To grant to Sir Oger the coveted honour ; but they gave away at last. And let him have it." " Rightly related," thus Sir Malagigi said. " He and Ferron, the Saracen champion, entered the lists between the two Armies, and we, who had met to witness a royal joust and fearful fray, How were we all of us strangely astonied at what occurred ! The trumpets blew ; The champions rode ; but never a lance deigned our Oger to carry, but Only his ponderous bulky club of solid iron, that weighed at least Some hundredweights. And, skilfully swerving, he deftly avoided the Saracen's spear. Then, turning amain on Ferron, he grasped him by the nape of his neck, and wrenched Him out of the saddle, and, holding him up, he beat him within an inch of his life. Loudly roared the terrified Saracen ; lustily came Sir OgeHs blows. Raining amain from his ponderous bulky club of iron. Then, tiring at length, He set the Saracen down on the ground, bruised his body, broken his arms. Alike to a scurvy tatterdemalion, who in a city's streets full oft Stands at the edge of the kerb-stone begging, exciting compassion and gaining alms By truly portentous display of tatters and rags — most chequered spectacle ! — So did the Saracen, Ferron the Fierce, stand by Sir Oger's side in the lists." Loudly laughed Malagigi, the barons, and belted knights of fame. "Then came the arrow that broke the truce," thus cried a baron continuing. " The treacherous caitiffs, not even at chivalry's sacredest rite could e'er abstain From innate baseness, but one of their bowmen, incensed, must e'en at Sir Oger let fly, And so the battle of Fontinella thereat began." " Thus was it, 'troth. Indeed," Sir Malagigi said. " But on Toledo's fearful day," Thus cried the bold-faced baron continuing, " do you remember how they rode, Those pair of champions, Oger and Florismart ? Aye ! in Florismart we have lost The pink of chivalrous courtesy. Woe ! woe worth the day for France's pride. When such a gallant ceased to be ! " " Aye ! " exclaimed Sir Malagigi, " I saw his body in the left. Not far from it I fought." And thus Continued the baron, "They rode together all athrough that fearful day ; Neck and neck they seemed to travel ; where they rode them, straightway the Ranks of Saracens, falling, gave them passage, as should perchance across A field of bearded corn a pair of riders ride them, trespassing ; The waving corn is threshed flat beneath their hoofs, and easily Yielding and falling softly sidewards admits their passage through the field. So through the serried ranks of Saracens, Oger and Florismart, all that day. Across and hither and thither rode. So yielded to them the ranks, alike Corn. With their heads bowed over their pommels, their nodding plumes a-shivering fierce In the swift wind of motion, they galloped resistless through the battle. E'en As should a rider on a breezy day a-draw his cloak around His shoulders tight, and, firmly pressing his cap on his head, a-bend him down Over his saddle-bow, and make to ride in the teeth of the wind. So they Rode in the battle. 'Twas on that day, after the fight was o'er, that brave Sir Florismart received the chaplet of honour from our leader, Sir Roland, and our good emperor gave him a silver-studded sword. CANTO X. 79 we. As prize of prowess, as meed of mightiness. For the first and only time That day, I mean on Toledo's field. Sir Oger used a lance instead Of axe or club, his usual weapons." Thus they talked together and Sat conferrmg in a ring, the barons and belted knights of fame. And thus there spoke a belted knight : "What say you, gentlemen, if In intent similar to beguile the day, do now decide which of Our company has borne him bravest in the fight, and who we shall To the fair dames of France be-dub the barons' hero? " And thus to him Replied a baron : "If I have any skill in gauge of prowessy, Then will I frankly say my sentence, and opinion give that Duke Gaifier, of all us knights and barons, fought the best." And thus there cried Another baron, " If closest witness and personal observation of Heroic deeds, do give a clue, I, who fought at his side all day. Do also give to Duke Gaifier my sentence and opini6n." And so 'twas commonly agreed among the barons and belted knights. As they compared each with each the doughty darings of the day. And thus crifed Sir Malagigi, " I will support thee also, Duke. Thou hast my vote right heartily." And thus to them replied Duke Gaifier : " Gentlemen, for this courtliness of compliment and proferring of Meed of fair praise, the which the rather would I modestly reject. And eke content myself with ranking far beneath the titles to Esteem for prowessy to-day of many of my brothers else. Of brave Berengier, of Duke Ast6r, of Count Gerein of Aix, Of brave Duke Samson — many others might I name in company With these stout hearts far gallanter in truth than I— yet sith it thus Hath pleased ye contribution of fair eulogy unmerited And courtly commendation of my poor exploits to make, I here Tender ye thanks, and guerdon give of gratitude sincere. Such words As these live in the memory, and adorn the hearer's brows with bays. Whenever reminiscence, reaching its willing fancy back into The vistas of the past, doth conjure up the rocoUectidn. Yet strangely doth it strike upon me, to hear myself as doughty knight Described now. So tired I feel, that, an my good sword were a straw, I haply might a-lift it, an my lance by magic were reduced Unto the lightness of a twig, I haply then might hold it, but not To brandish it. My arms are both so tired and numb, I scarce can raise Them of themselves. My legs could ne'er endure my weight, and, by St. James ! I greatly fear, without a horse, I ne'er shall find my way to France." Thus as they spoke, came the bold Sir Oliver to their ring, and leaning on His tall spear he addressed them, and asked them how they did. And then The barons did relate to him of how their horses were adown ; Scarce could twenty of them boast of having e'en a horse alive. " I, too," quoth the bold Sir Oliver, " as you see have lost my horse. My gallant Baxabole, a-bearing himself so royally as he did The livelong day, in my last round fell piercfed by a caitiff's spear." " Then," criM a belted knight, " only Sir Roland, as it seems. And Bishop Turpin, and some twenty of us here have horses left," 8o THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Thus they talked together, Sir Oliver, and the knights and barons bold. Then did the barons then invite him to come into their ring, and sit Among them all. But he said, " No ! for Roland waits me over there." Thus as he spoke, he turned and pointed to where the royal Roland stood Some distance off/ and thus continued, " I was on my way to him. And did but look me in on you to ask you how ye did, and take A moment's rest." Then made he for to go, but ere he went, " Gentlemen, as I hied me hither, you seemed to be making merry," he said, " But, for my part, so sad a day, so mournful and deplorable A piece of work, never in memory or in story have I known." And thus replied to him the belted knights and eke the barons bold : " Surely the gaps in our ranks are an evidence, how at heart we truly grieve. Mightily, mightily, gallant Sir Oliver, thou dost misconstrije our mien. Could we but alter the orders of destiny, we could be well content to lie Dead on the plain, and our gallant companions to lighten and live instead of us." Then he moved, the bold Sir Oliver, slowly from their neighbourhood. Towards the place where royal Roland stood at a distance from his men. Now not far from the knights and barons the knots of veterans lay about. And thus, as he passed, he heard them conferring; thus together conferred they: " Woe worth the day ! and foul the fray ! and rank the wrong of Roncesvay ! Bravery buffets in vain with villainy. Skill of fence and strength of arm, Say, can ye thrust at a phantom ? In vanity, bravery buffets, a-beating the air." Thus as they c6nferred, the royal Roland stood at a distance, and marked them, Stood at a distance away from his men, with sorrowful eyes observing them. And thus the belted-knights and barons together in parley thus did say : " By the gaps in our ranks, ye m.ay easily augur the grief that engrosseth our general soul. Gaiety but for a moment, in verity, flitteth across us, and then away. Sore do we sigh with a ceaseless solicitude, sore do we mourn our comrades dear. Fain would we all of us, down in the battlefield, die as their deputy, lie in their room." And thus, not far from the knights and barons, the knots of veterans thus did say : " Woe worth the day ! and foul the fray ! and rank the wrong of Roncesvay ! Impious treachery, tattle thy masterpiece : victoried villainy, vaunt thy skill. Sad are the messages, tearful the tidings, that we, as the messengers, must convey. Surely such messengers never have hifed them ever upon their homeward way." And thus, in silent soliloquy communing, thus did royal Roland say : " Ganelon, Ganelon, excellent infidel. Paladin perjured, and knight of sin, How hast thou wreaked on innocent victims the villainy vile thou meant for me ! Happy their innocence ! happy their ignorance ! little they reck of how 't has been Little they reck that one of us Paladins weavfed the web that worked the sin. Did they but know it, did they but dream it, what disgrace, what infamy ! " And thus the belted knights and barons together in parley thus did say : " How will the ladies of Beam and of Brittany, how will the countesses of Niverre, Beat their beautiful bosoms in sorrow, and rend the locks of their flaxen hair ! Weep and lament, ye ladies of Brittany ! weep, ye dames of Burgundy fair ! Soon will intelligence fearful a-reach ye, soon will ye widows' weeds a-wear." And thus, not far from the knights and barons, the knots of veterans thus did say : " Mourning widows, orphaned children, are the offerings to his pride. If it be true, what we maintain, cursfed the hour that he did ride CANTO X. 8 1 Down to the crafty Saracens' town ! Cursed the hour," they thus did say, " When that he rode to the Saracens' town, as crafty and treacherous he as they ! " And thus, in silent soliloquy communing, thus did royal Roland say : " Bury, my bosom, the thoughts of the treachery ; breathe it to none, the baseness dire. Lips, be ye sealed, and tongue, be a-tethered. To secrecy, secrecy, let me conspire. Muffle in silence the tale of the traitor, who wove the web and set the gin, Ganelon, Ganelon, excellent infidel. Paladin perjured, and knight of sin." And thus the belted knights and barons together in parley thus did say : " By the gaps in our ranks, ye may easily augur the grief that engrosseth our general soul. Gaiety but for a moment, in verity, flitteth across us, and then away. Sore do we sigh with a ceaseless solicitude, sore do we mourn our comrades' doom. Fain would we all of us, down in the battlefield, die as their deputy, lie in their room." And thus not far from the knights and barons the knots of veterans thus did say : " Woe worth the day ! and foul the fray ! and rank the wrong of Roncesvay 1 Impious treachery, tattle thy masterpiece : victoried villainy, vaunt thy skill. Sad are the messages, tearful the tidings, that we, as the messengers, must convey. Surely such messengers never have hied them ever upon their homeward way." And thus, in silent soliloquy communing, thus did royal Roland say ■- " Ganelon, Ganelon, excellent infidel, Paladin perjured, and knight of sin. How hast thou wreaked on innocent victims the villainy vile thou meant for me ! How hast thou, treacherous, bartered thy brothers to feed thy wounded vanity ! Did they but know it, did they but dream it, what disgrace, what infamy ! " Thus as he mused, came the bold Sir Oliver near unto his neighbourhood. And coming up to him he whispered in his ear : " Ganelon's name Runs like wild-fire through the camp. If that the men get hold of him, I wouldn't answer for his life." " Now, thunderbolts of Jove, come strike Me !" thus cried Roland. " What, is it out? Thou dreamest, man. How could they e'er Surmise it? " " Nay, that I know not," responded Oliver. " But they know it, as I live. I heard a party of them threatening to do for him whene'er they got To Paris." " Now come, clouds, conceal me henceforth from the world of men. my escutcheon ! Tarnished honour, do I know thee now ? O strange Appearance on my shield ! — Blemish of life pure as the virgin snow." " Nay, nay, my comrade. Take not on so much about 't. Thou art not he. 'Tis true, he is a Paladin," — " And who are the Paladins but I ? 1 am the Paladins. And a breath, a wrinkle, that creases their fair robe, Rends rents untold in mine. Talk not to me ! You, I, and all of us, Are rogues henceforth." " Nay, my compagnon, thou doest wrong unto thyself. Thou doest wrong unto us all, by thus assessing of the deed." " Oliver, this morning I awoke upon as fair a coming day. As I for ten years past remember e'er to have in prospect had. All Spain was conquered, nor only Spain, but other countries too there were, As trophies of our ten years' unremitting service in the field. Naples and Sicily we had wrested from the Saracen, and, before Our harry there, in German lands we had subdufed Saxony For our good emperor. Spain followed, and the glorious victories of Fontinella, and Toledo, and Salamanca's tented field. Laid the peninsula at our feet. What store of laurel we had won. And wore, when we three days ago began our happy march to home ! M 82 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Then came the treachery, and, by acts herculean of valour, back — Back did we beat it, leaving many of our best heroes on the field. But oh ! what woe hath followed ! Oliver, knowest thou what I meant to do? I meant to give out that a skirmishing party of Saracens had come On us by accident, as entangled in the passes we did march. My claims to generalship had I sacrificed, my loud repute as captain, to Hide our dishonour. But now, O bury me ye heavens ! Where is there one of us who dare Stand in the face of the world, and brag his name of Paladin again? " " Good my compagnon, thou forbodest too sternly of things. Scarce is a camp Without its traitor. And in our fortune we see but the common lot of all." " And yet we once were free of them." " Yes, and evermore shall be again. A truce, my comrade, to thy stern forebodings. Believe me, this thing in a short time will Blow over, and never a breath about 't be heard in the world of chivalry." " O Oliver, Oliver, what sorry comfort to give me ! But worse than the comfort is The cause that asks the comfort. O Charlemagne, emperor, hear'st thou this ? The knave among us is known." " My compagnon," thus said Oliver continuing, " How could'st thou e'er believe that the story sooner or later would not be out? Early this morning I half surmised it from the looks on the faces of some of the men. Take it not unto heart so much. An impious, treacherous deed was done, Beyond thy cognisance. Censure none can either on us or thee a-fall. Pluck out the weed from amid the roses. They smell as sweetly as of yore." " Woe is my heart for the days of yore, when the Paladin's panoply knew no stain. When the light of his glory a-flashed to the world, undusted with motes, unchequered with bane ! History haughty and story heroic, once there has been, but never again. Happy, ye knights, that lie in your glory, untroubled sleepers among the slain ! Happy ye rest on the broad earth's breast, asleep to dishonour, asleep to disdain. These are the dregs of the wine of the battle, the potion prepared for us who remain. Deep the dishonour, and bitter the turpitude, so that to me alas ! it fain Seemeth as all my works were wasted, as all my past were lived in vain." Thus did he mourn him, the royal Roland, and thus his compagnon to him did say ; " Roland my comrade, brother beloved, my compagnon, grieve not so. Sore doth thy chivalrous spirit a-fretting wince beneath this weight of woe. Yet, methinks, thou overratest, comrade dear, this treacherous blow. Never will Christendom's famous opinion confuse the loyal with the low. Paladins once, and Paladins ever 1 So let the crafty scoundrel go. His base treachery all the brighter will make our honest honour glow. Thus will the verdict of Christendom rule it, once as it hath, and evermoe. Then, too, think how this fell treachery unexpectedly may bestow Laurels untold upon our men here ! They to-day had scope to show. By its benefit, daring unparalleled, prowess incredible 'gainst the foe. Even to higher heights than hitherto, will the fame of their gallantry grow, Roland, my comrade, brother beloved, my compagnon, grieve not so." " What thou sayest about the men, pleaseth me much. It comforts me. To know at least some fruit of goodness comes from the infamous perfidy. And tell me, Oliver, since thou knowest, what else did thou hear them say. When, athrough the camp a-walking, thou didst lately wend thy way. Aye, the gallant hearts ! ah, the bold ones ! well did they bear them in the fray ! And tell me, Oliver, for thou knowest, what else did thou hear them say." CANTO X. 83 "What else I heard, my comrade dear, it will delight thee much to hear. It was about thy horn they spoke." " And what said they about my horn ? " " Why, after praising up its sounding qualities, and distorting of An inch of truth into two yards of fiction, one of them 'gan say, That, if you'd liked, you might have easily given the Emperor news of our Sad plight by blowing your horn, and brought him back to assist us. All that way, That's fifty or sixty miles, he'd heard the horn would carry. His neighbour said : ' Aye ! so he could, 'tis true indeed. But would you have him sound his horn, And call for help? — he, the greatest captain in Christendom? No, no, not he, I warrant you. His honour was engaged in not calling for help.* 'Yes, and our own too,' chimed in another. • Aye ! and our own,' they chorussed around. ' Would you have had us call for help? No, not we ! we'd die a-first. ' Thus they spoke, with oaths and assertions deep and dauntless confirming their words. These things I tell thee, my compagnon, that thou mayst be comforted." At his words the royal Roland greatly was a-comforted. Cheerfed greatly was his soul ; a flush it mantled to his cheek. And thus he spoke to his comrade : " This does a greatly comfort me. Greatly does it cheer my soul. It brings the blood unto my cheek. Much I delight to hear the praises of my men, and catch them in The act of filching bays. Braver and gallanter hearts could ne'er be found. Such are my soldiers, that no captain e'er was favoured as I." And thus said Oliver, " Aye I thou art right. Hearken thyself to what they say." For, e'en as they spoke, a chorus of veterans was heard to rise not far away ■- " Unassisted, all unaided, we have borne us through the day. All unaided, we have battled boldly through the stormy fray. Yet though all alone, unaided, did the prospect us dismay ? Did our hearts a touch of terror or a canting qualm betray ? What though millions came about us, should we e'er for aiders pray ? Scarcely, comrades, would the slinking thought into our bosoms stray. Cast our courage into figures, and the total reckoning say. Surely then our little handful will outnumber Arabay. Thus it is that we could battle fearless through the fierce foray. And our wonted mettle to its crack and highest height display. Yet, oh ! toilsome was the battle, rough this raid of Roncesvay. Gladly do we here a-rest us, gath'ring what repose we may. Sore fatigued, sore fatigued, from the doings of the day. Tired unto death indeed, upon the grass our limbs we lay." And thus did Roland say to Oliver: "Aye, right tired must they be." Hard on the right, another knot of veterans on the herbage sate. And thus they cri^d : "Summer sunsets, summer sunsets, ye are late. Ye are late, ye summer sunsets; late ye are and tardy, when Ye do come in answer to the prayer of tired and weary men. Sultry lustres, sultry glories of the glowing afternoon. Fain would we behold your splendour fainting shortly, fading soon. We are tired, and we are weary, after all the war to-day. After all the fearful wrestle and the struggle of the fray. Summer sunsets, summer sunsets, ye are late in coming, then, Ye are late and long of coming unto tired and weary men." 84 THE DEATH OP ROLAND. And thus another knot of veterans in their neighbourhood were saying : " He that would in truth confess what a woe is weariness. Let him but repeat to-day, and brave another Roncesvay. All the day have we, pursuing our fell enemies' undoing, Through the raking ranks of battle toiled and striven without stay ; Through the serried, close-compacted swarms of foes a-forced our way. Now doth weariness oppress us, weariness so great and sore, Never had we dreamt what havoc weariness could work before. Haste, ye wheels of Phoebus' chariot, bear your master to the west, That, amid our watchfires slumbering, we at last may take our rest ! " And thus said Oliver to Roland : " They say well. 'Tis time, methinks, Comrade, to send the foraging party out ; for by the time, I trow. That they have gone to the villages round, and hither returned with store of food, The sun will be full nigh to sinking. Dinner we then may have, and these So weary men, as, 'troth, we all are, may at last turn in to rest." And thus said Roland : "I had indeed proposed the same unto myself. Before thou spakest, Oliver, but put it off in deference to Their very weariness. To go about among the villages around, The nearest of which is some four miles away, and ply the irksome task Of requisitioning provisions, craves recruited men and new. How can I ask these worn-out heroes yet ? I marked the freshest of Them, some while since, when they were cutting wood, hojv hardly they could lift Their swords to do it, and sooner gathered the twigs and sticks that lay on the ground, Than 'tempt the labour light of cutting withs through. Let them have half-an-hour More, and then I send them, I promise thee. As to the sun, be not afraid That it may catch us unawares a-sinking. Fully five hours there are 'Twixt this and sunset. E'en tho' they rested two good hours before they start. Yet there'd be ample time enough for all that craves attendance to." Thus did they speak together conferring, Oliver and Roland, as they lay Upon the grass, and others like them lying in circles and knots about. Thus they rested, and ever sultrier grew the glow of the afternoon. 'Twas height of summer, and the sun did therefore shine most lustily. And thus a baron, from among the barons' circle, thus did say : " With liberal hand and bountiful, Dan Phoebus from his golden urn Empties his floods of glory o'er the world, and batheth us within A sea of splendour, lus,trous excellence ; and most delighting is the day. Yet how much more delighting, marry ! is 't that from the west, from the Increasing west, we see the sheen and glories pour. Soon will the hour — And sooner than its due arrival, fain would I behold it here — Soon will the hour of russet evening fall, beneath whose gentle wing Nestled, we may our life renew, and reinstate our strength." And thus, Among a group of barons, where he sitting was, said Duke Gaifier : " Hath clomb the dizzy zenith long, and in his measured course amain. Through quadrant unto quadrant hieing, down the arcked ecliptic now Obliquely hurryeth the sun. Yet in such season time as this. When that he doth with Leo ride, reluctantly he seeks the west. Much it delighteth him, upon his sliding way, to loiter and To trifle 'mong the scribblings of the sky, midst cosines, nodes, and arcs CANfO Xl 8s Concentric and eccentric, curvetting. Fain would I that to-day The mettled steeple-chaser of the winter were above us, 'stead Of this same faineant, whose royal progress sure doth endless seem." And thus a veteran, among the knots of tirfed veterans, did say : " The joys the weary ploughman feels, when downy languor o'er him steals. And rest at last hath come t' allay the toil and labour of the day, — He, all day long robustly striving, with strong stout arms his furrows driving, With muscles set and sweating brow, toils manfully behind his plough. At last his weary courses close, and labour faints in sweei repose. What joys about his spirit play, such joy as this I feel to-day." And thus another veteran from among the tirfed veterans said : " Who is 't that knows and can disclose the weary warrior's weight of woes ? His bruised body, battered arms, his spirit sick with fight's alarms, — To reckon up the list entire would e'en a babbler's patience tire. In battle's brunt, the brave, in truth, full little recketh of his ruth : But after, when the fight is over, then doth he all his woes discover. Then 'tis, what time this drowsy feeling comes o'er his sunken senses stealing. In very touch and act of healing, his every feeble place revealing. Then he at last, the battle over, doth all his weight of woes discover." And thus cried some of the group of barons, with whom was sitting Duke Gaifier, Among them also sat the Paladins, Malagigi and Turpin, there : " Hands, hands, and aching frames, ye palsied limbs and paralysed, say, Are ye the burly bullies of this morn ? In truth, we know us not. As when a rainstorm, beating on the corn, doth lay it flat and limp. So hath the rain of battle overpowered and mastered our might," CANTO XI. Thus they sat on the grass, and sultrier grew the glow of the afternoon. Indolent, listless, they lay about, their arms beside them on the grass. Not much did they speak together. Scarce a word had come awhile To break the silence. The plashy rippling of the brook behind the slope Stole on the air and sounded clear. A bee went humming Roland by. And thus he said to Oliver : " Dost thou remember, Oliver, Another afternoon like this, so sultry and so still, and we. The selfsame idlers as to-day, sat dallying in the orchards of Cordova? Weary of long-enforc6d leisure, we yearned for war And feats of arms, unwilling loiterers in the shade. Not so Unwilling now we trifle here. 'Tis a nice parallel, and takes My thoughts back thitherward, and brings sweet reminiscences, the fools Of thought, upon me. Young Astolpho was with us then, and Oger the brave. And gallant Florismart. 'Twas when we trifled, sitting in the shade. That then did we hear the notes of mule-bells float on the air in the distance afar. That was the Saracen's embassy coming, bringing gifts to Charlemagne. Did we drowsy dreamers wot what treachery tinkled in the bells ? 86 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Yet their singing was the ringing of the knell of some of us. Aye ! and haply might have been of all, had but our traitor laid His fell plans better, or had he reckoned more on the valour of the men. Only through them could he strike us, Oliver ; that he knew full well. And hence the seethy swarms that have encompassed us the livelong day. Baffled has he been entirely; yet what havoc has he wrought. E'en in the failure and the foiled efforts of his villainy ! Out of our late brave five thousand, scarcely half remain alive. Every second man has fall'n, and with us Paladins 'tis the same. Three out of seven have been the sacrifice, the purchase-money paid To save the rest o' us, to turn the tables on the villain's schemes, to spare Our battered honour that last disgrace, that the triumphing of the sin Had ground upon 't. E'en as it is, 'tis fearful woe, but yet we may Revive again. But had success crowned his work, and we gone down Wholesale before 't, a masterpiece of villainy, I tell thee, Oliver, It would have been the hue and cry of Europe, a common proverb in The mouths of men, a standing tale for ages hence to babble of. 'Twas complete annihilation he intended, but he should Have ta'en his measures better. Some thousands more he should have sent, tho' I will Confess, that as I look upon these tired and weary men, and know Their weariness so great and sore, not many more had been required To do the business. But a truce to these sad musings. Brother, say. Is not this afternoon, that sees the end of this fell treachery, Like to the one that saw its birth, so sultry and so still, and we A second time the selfsame idlers ? Almost could I fancy me Again in that fair garden in the orchard-grounds of Cordova. Almost might I fancy I heard the jinglings of the mule-bells." Thus They talked, and sat on the grass ; and sultrier grew the glow of the afternoon. Till it seemed like a dream, that desolate valley, and they but sleepers slumbering there. So for a full half hour they sat, and now 'twas fully four by the clock. When Oliver, who before had askfed Roland to send the foragers out, And Roland had craved for the weary men a half hour's longer rest, — 'Twas now that Oliver once more said, " Now, comrade, now 'tis time to send. Rest and repose are pleasant, truly, but hunger is an imperious Monitor, whose behests not only I but doubtless others feel. Commend me to a dinner, though it cost me hours of solid rest. Positively, now, I'll make thee send." And thus said Roland to Oliver • " Oliver, 'tis too late to send. The mists begin to rise. Seesl thou That black mist creeping up the valley? " " Pshaw, brother. Yes, I see it. In These mountain districts, mists, collecting from the swamps and stagnant fens, Come loaded with poisonous vapours, and early at the approach of eve they rise. But what raean'st thou by what thou sayest ? " " Oliver, I like not that mist. Supperless we must go to bed. I'll not send the men to face that mist. Look at it closely. What dost thou make of it? " " Troops ! by Heaven ! " cried Oliver, And sprang to his feet. " Yes," answered Roland, " such multitudes too of them, that all Our former fights will seem but skirmishes compared to this. This, I argue, 's The grand assault of the day, and doubtless led by the caliph in person." Thicker And thicker and denser and denser growing crept the mist. It was certainly troops. CANTO XT. 87 And thousands of them there must be. 'Twas evident now. The eye could make Out figures of men entering the valley in thousands and thousands. On every side of them, Down the passes to right and left of them, and up the valley in front of them, Came the black mist slowly creeping, loaded with life. All in the camp Had seen it, and had sprung to their feet, as men half-dazed, suddenly awoke From sleep to see the apparition of their vision embodied stock Before them. Staring they gazed, bewildered and appalled with horror at The spectacle. At last confusfed words broke stammering from their lips : " See I see I they come ! What shall we do ? " " 'Tis unmistakeable." " 'Tis they. See ! they come advancing on us." " What shall we do? Hither they come." " What shame ! " some of them did cry. " 'Tis not fair play, this. How shall we, Poor tired and weary men, make head against them ? " " Now may we see them quite Distinctly. Yes, 'tis they. 'Tis the Saracens, and in legions untold they come." " Now may we see them plainly. Brothers, this is a hard case for us ; After all the weary wrestles and the struggles of the day. After battle after battle of th' interminable fray. But to breathe, and then commence another, that doth promise to Outbeggar all the rest together in its arduous strain and strife." As when the course of the Epsom race-course, on a crowded Derby day, When the race is just beginning, and the trial canters o'er. Vacant quite and empty doth it like a lonely lawn appear. Scarcely has the flight of horses rushfed past the judge's box, Than with one consent the people pour from the ropes in thousands, and, like A wave upon it flowing, people it : all in a moment the course is black. So was the plain peopled with Saracens : so suddenly, so entirely did They people it : pouring in they streamed from above and below on every hand. Like rats, they came running down the rocks. As when an army of prowling rats. In Paris streets at midnight, sniffing garbage in the sewers below. Run scampering and struggling down the drain-holes, squealing in greed their famished maws To glut with tasty plunder : so came running down the rocks the blacks. As when a party of tirfed workmen, after the labours of the day In the foundry, or the engine-house, or the busy shipbuilding yard. With dusty jackets and faces smudged and tin cans over their shoulders slung. Stand together at some street corner, ere they separate for the night — Desiring nought but home to hie them, and gain their coveted repose, — So stood the veterans and the barons and the belted knights of fame. And thus said Roland, " How can I oppose these tired and weary men To the fresh troops? How may they face them, done to death with weariness ? Yet must we make the push, and instantly. Ye, that have got your armour on. Go to the front, and brook the battle, the while the rest do arm themselves ; Which do ye, gentlemen, with what despatch your tirfed limbs are capable of. There's not a minute to be wasted. Each moment has its precious price. Malagigi, now must thou head them, and hold these miscreants in check. I have a matter in hand for a moment, that will keep me at the back. But instantly will I join thee. Therefore speed thee ! " And thus cried valorous Malagigi, buckling on his breastplate, " Roland, reckon on me." There was indeed no time to lose. Already the foremost lines were engaged. Clash, clash, the weapons went, and sharper, stormier rang the din, as each 88 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. New man or company went hastening hurriedly to the front, and the melee Made massier and denser. Then Roland said unto himself: " Now for The sake of these tired and weary gentlemen, now then will I wind my horn." Thus saying, he drew his horn by the golden chain that held it from round his back, And put it to his lips, preparing to blow, when Oliver hurrried up. And seizing him by the arm cried, " Roland, for God's sake ! what dost thou mean to do ? This is no time to bugle it. Imminent, unavertible is our doom. Let us, therefore, accept our destiny. Gallantly fighting let us die, Nor lessen the lustre of our chivalry by an idle call for help." Thus cried Oliver, and Roland replying cried, " Nay, Oliver, what raean'st thou? Thou, who erstwhile with such emphasis pressed me to wind this very horn, Now in deprecation standest, forbidding me do 't. What meanest thou ? " " What I say, brother. Early this morning thou should'st have done it, or not at all. Then the emperor would have heard thee. Only some miles in front of us Were he and his regiments then ; and welcome aid had saved us many a brave. Thou should'st have done what I told thee, Roland, and when. But now it is too late. All day long have they been marching, and scores of miles now yawn between. Charlemagne ne'er would hear thee, compagnon. Put up thy horn, and mind the fight." "At least I can but try to make him. That thou'lt allow me, Oliver." " No ! not e'en that. 'Tis idle folly, I tell thee, to think thy horn can reach A quarter o' th' distance. And mock not, man, our dire adversity by wild Experimenting on it. What? we to die, in such a scurvy way. Mid silly requiems of throat-music, that mean nothing and do no good ? " And thus cried Roland, " Were it not, Oliver, thou who speakest, some clown I Would fain believe were chattering to me. Why die the scurvier, if I blow ? " " Why die the scurvier ? Why, and much the scurvier, I tell you. We shall Like disappointed beggars die, not like brave men. There is a knack Of acting at the proper moment, and there's a knack of missing it. And thou— thou hast missed it, — thou'st missed thy opportunity," thus shouted he, For such was the roar of the battle around them, scarce could they hear each other speak. " Like disappointed beggars we shall die, whining in vain for aid. A pretty tale 'twill be for the Saracens to tell, how we, down on our knees. Crying for help that never came — Come, come, Roland, put away Thy horn. Admit the extremity. Nothing is left us but honour. Let's cling to that. We all are ready to die. So let us manfully fight, and brave our doom ; But keep, oh ! keep our honour pure." But Roland replied, '•' Honour to me ! Man alive, think'stthou that I would hang my honour on a peg To take the air, at such a time as this ? Look, how my poor troops fall ! " For lifting their eyes, it was as when condors down from the Andes hie, To prey on a drove of tired cattle, and, mangling them with talons and beak, Blinding them with their flapping wings, with ruthless appetite gorge themselves ; So did the fresh troops of the Saracens gorge themselves on the tirfed Franks. " Sad is the sight, I weet it well," thus cried Oliver in reply. " Yet can thy offices nought avail them. All thy summoning comes too late." " Not too late. Beware these reproaches to a desperate man ! I say I will have Charlemagne here, and save my soldiers. Here on this spot, within Four hours at furthest, he shall stand." " Tush, tush, this is dreaming. Thou Wert rash this morning not to wind. Thou'rt mad this afternoon to think CANTO XI. 89 Of it. Some hours ago thou had'st it in thy power to free us all From jeopardy. Yet thou wouldest not. Now thy winding can but mean Exposure and shame. 'Twill show our hand to the Saracen hounds; and weaklings we Shall stand convicted. Them thou wilt animate ; them thou'lt encourage; them thou wilt bring Here to this spot whereon we stand, not Charlemagne," thus shouted he. Raising his voice to make it heard amid the deafening roar around. " Not Charlemagne, I tell thee. Him should'st have summoned this morning. Think'st thou the morning Lasts all day? Wherefore not wind when I told thee ? Madman, that hast brought The troops to such a pass as this ! " And Roland shouted, " These words to me ! Sirrah, I can bear much from thee because of our friendship ; but rank abuse, Wert thou ten Olivers, I'd have it not — But here I stay wrangling with thee, and neglect My business. I'll wind the horn." " Damnation, if thou shall ! Give it to me." " Dotard," cried Roland, " is this thy case ? Would'st dare to wrestle with me in the sight Of the men ? " " Yea, that I will. And if these arms of mine suffice, I'll hold Thee but thou shalt not wind ; for Charlemagne will never hear thee." " Unhand Me, Oliver ! I tell thee I will wind, and he shall hear, if I blow down The hills that lie between." Thus saying, he put his horn to his lips, and commenced To blow. Suddenly over the roar of the battle was heard the roar of the horn. Putting it out, and overmastering every sound except itself. Such was the hubbub terrific, that instantly all the battering fight beneath Lay like a painted battle before them, amid the roar that came from the horn. Then from out the horn's concavity, out rushed the noise in earnest, in great Splashes of uproar fitfully belching, and ponderous billowy waves of sound. That grew each minute steadier, gathering strength as they poured from the bottomless horn ; Surging and rising, until, like a cataract, from the horn the uproar poured. Louder it rose. And still he blew. He blew till the blood burst out at his lips. And angry snaps of uproar sullenly mix with the universal din; Ear-splitting cracks of terrible thunder sputtered and spluttered from the horn. Down the passes rushes the hurricane raving, but precipice and crag Back beat it. Back starts a rattling cannonade of echoes, that with cracks Myriad increase the hubbub. The roaring sound in throes wrestles for room, Prisoned in fastnesses. But the omnipotent horn with perpetual peal doth drive Back and back again the recoiling re-echoing mass of sound, till at last. As when an engine screaming and whistling rushes athrough a station, so Did the sound rush crashing through the passes, and out to the open country beyond. So was it carried, like as the whistling scream of a retreating train Grows fainter and fainter in the distance, the further it gets in the country. Yet not Did the sound of the horn one whit diminish. But 'twas as if train after train Were rushing athrough the station, all of them bound on the selfsame journey, belike Conveying to some great race or popular gathering passengers, or as if war The land were threatening, and they were bearing troops with desperate haste to the front. So was the sound of the horn through the passes rushing into the country beyond. Over the country it went a-soaring, over field and over plain. Forging along to its destination ; attempting, as 'twere, now ever anon To stop, but driven onward by more portentous hosts of sound behind. As 'twere a vast cortege a-traveUing, and Roland flogging it behind. So galloped the bellowing cavalcade of uproar with leaps and bounds along, N 90 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. While from behind the horn doth drive it with auxiliary tumult on. Thus stood Roland in the valley of Roncesvalles, and blew his horn. And Charlemagne has heard it, and also his army, in camp at Aise in France. Like a foghorn faintly booming through the fog far out at sea, So was the sound of Roland's horn heard in the camp of Charlemagne. Like as bells, whose distant chiming the wind doth weakly waft along, So was the sound of Roland's horn heard in the camp of Charlemagne. Or as when a battle rages far away, and to the ear The sound of distant cannonading sulkily swings along the wind. And thus said Charlemagne (he with his Paladins sat in front of the royal tent : They were at Aise in France, and after their afternoon meal together sat In front of the tent discoursing : the soldiery all in the camp were resting too). And thus said Charlemagne as he listened : " Methinketh that is Roland's horn. I marvel much wherefore he winds it. Wherefore should he wind his horn ? Strange though it seem for me to speak it, I greatly fear me, gentlemen. Lest somewhat may have happed untowardly. Say, doth the like appear to you ? What think you of it? Mightily fear I, lest some unsuspected ill. Which we with all our strict sagacity ne'er have weeted, and even now Cannot divine its nature, has lighted on him and the rearguard in their march. I may conclude, in sooth, too hastily. Still I marvel why he winds." And thus replied Sir Ganelon : " Gracious Emperor, be not thus perplexed, Nor vex thy royal bosom with fearful fancies and idle thoughts of ill. Shall I unravel this Roland mystery? One word will do it. He's hunting the stag. Some antlered paragon of the forest has caught his cupidity on the march, And chasing it over hill and valley, at last the royal buck's in sight. Therefore it is he winds his bugle. This note, Sire, is his tally-ho. Good luck be with him and the soldiers ! They'll sup on venison to-night. Therefore dismiss these fond suspicions. Thou knowest Roland, gracious liege. If but a hare do cross his path, — out with his horn, and after it straight. The clown, to cause this great uneasiness in thy mind and to us all ! " But thus cried Naimes, and the meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Ganelon : " Fain would I thee felicitate, Ganelon, on thy specious sophistry. Sure hath thy silver tongue a notable narrative sought to propagate. This is a buck-hunt ! and chivalrous Roland, forgetting his martial discipline. Has left the ranks to chase the roebuck ; or else for his idle enjoyment belike, Sitting on saddle and tamely tantiveying, blows the gamut of the scale ! No, no, my liege ! such tattle incredible ne'er can I but effrontery call. Mark ye that horn ! It hath a prolonged note. To me, 'tis as if some strong Man were winding in extremity. Think ye not so, my liege and lords ? Yea ! 'tis a brave man sounding. The battle is sore upon him. Treachery fell, Treachery fell hath encompassed our commander. Trust me, Roland 's at bay ! " And thus cried Salomon, King of Brittany, rising as all together did, " Hear ye the booming, how it increases? Gods I 'twill speedily fill the air. Roland with all his strength is winding. Peril unparalleled presseth him round. Woe for our rearguard ! Nought but extremity dire had driven him thus to do. Lord and lieges, hear me say it, — traitors have been at work in this. Traitors that skulk and scheme amidst us here in the heart of our own good camp." And thus cried Charlemagne, as among them gravely listening he stood, CANTO XI. 91 (Black were the looks that went about ; and still the angry thunder roared,) " Yea, and the truth is now apparent. Terrible strait besetteth him round. Terrible danger, undreamt of, unwitted of. Whence has it risen to ravage the rear ? Weet ye of any traitor, gentlemen, one whose finger has been in this? " And thus broke in Sir Ganelon ; every eye was turned on his face as he spoke ; " Good faith ! emperor, many a traitorous groom and sutler slinketh about, Blessed with palm ever pat for bribery. If that treachery 's been at work. Not that it has been, but that it has not been — there would the miracle be, I trow. Saracen gold can work rare havoc upon base slaves' integrity." And thus cried Naimes, and the meanwhile sternly he turned his eyes on Ganelon, " Seek not to implicate unoffending honest men in villainy. - The grooms, the sutlers — yea, 'twere possible, that I grant you, were there not One prime condition to this treachery perpetrated now to-day ; He — the traitor — whosoever he be, and by the holy rood ! Nearer could suspicion concentre on me, than on these innocent men, — Must needs have known the line of our homeward march, the which was known to none; To ne'er a living soul in the camp, but to us five a-standing here. One of us then is the traitor. And, before God in Heaven above ! I here denounce thee, Ganelon. Traitor ! Thou art the man who'st worked the woe." But now did speak Rinaldo, the Paladin known in the lists of Ascalon ; " While we stand debating and balancing reasons in sorry council here. Time presses. Hear ye not higher the torrent of thunder that spouts from our comrade's horn ? Inveigled he is, and calls for aiders. Chattering counsel boots him not. Let us delay no minute longer. Saddles, not speeches, befit the hour. Come, gentlemen ! And, by our gracious emperor's leave, I give the word. To horse ! " Thus spoke Rinaldo : second to Oliver and to Roland alone Was he in prowess ; for of the Paladins young Astolpho the weakest was. Then Sir Ganelon, then Duke Naimo, he being old and stricken in years. Also Salomon, King of Brittany, likewise Turpin, the bishop bold. Stronger than these was Malagigi; stronger than he. Sir Florismart; Stronger than Florismart, Oger the Terrible ; next Rinaldo came, and then Last of all came Roland and Oliver, of whom did no one rightly know. Or e'er could tell of the twain, for certain, which was the stronger ; though Roland indeed Was much the stronger. — Thus spoke Rinaldo, grasping his great cross-hilted sword. "To horse ! " they shouted. And through the avenues of the camp there ran the word, " To horse ! " " To horse ! " And far in the labyrinth dense of tents was heard the word, " To horse ! " the while the horn was booming so unmistakeably on the air. That 'twas as 'twere a violent thunderstorm raged in the distance from the south. Face to face with Charlemagne, Ganelon stood amid the Paladins all. Haughty but pale as death. And Charlemagne spake unto him : " I like not this. Present uncertainty yields thee sufferance. But this instant do we ride Post to the place of summons, Ganelon. Ere this evening closes in. We shall know all. And if that treachery do appear in what we find. Better were it for the traitor had his mother ne'er him borne. Meanwhile I place thee under arrest ; and send an escort to carry thee To Paris, there to await me, where leisurely we in a few days' time shall come. Mark well my words ! and ye too, gentlemen, hearken heedfuUy what I say ! Has there treachery worked this mischief, I know the traitor. And if a hair 93 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Of Roland's head is injured, Ganelon, twenty deaths will not suffice To wreak my vengeance on thy miscreant self. Now, gentlemen, to horse ! " Thus he spoke, and he with the Paladins, Naimes, Rinaldo, and Salomon, Galloped away, and the cavalry streaming in squadron and squadron galloped behind, While the infantry, slowly deploying, in hurried muster began to move. Thus was it in the camp of Charlemagne. Meanwhile at Roncesvalles, Roland, now having finished blowing, had swung his horn to his back, and took A bird's-eye view of the field, preparing to descend on the populous plain. The Franks he saw were falling fast. Like chaff, they were going down to the fresh Troops of the Saracens, who, with exuberant confidence flushed, kept moving up Their new brigades from hosts behind, that filled to its very end the vale. As in a forest, where giant oaks do rear themselves among the crowd Of humbler trees ; so congregating crowded the Saracens in the plain, So did their tall and gigantic champions rear themselves among their ranks. As in a mighty camp, where, towering among the common soldiers' tents, Proud pavilions, and tall praetoriuras, domes of generals' tents do rise ; So did the teeming host of the Saracens seem with its champions and its men. Here did one like a bear raven upon the lines of wearied Franks. Here did one, like a colossus, stalk amid them, riding them down. One conspicuous noted Roland, who mounted on a coal-black steed Rode up and down the ragged regiments, felling Franks on every hand. Thus did the onset wax against them, what time that he did blow his horn. Now at this point of the battle a cry went up, " Malagigi falls ! " This heard Roland, and moodily muttered : " He should have waited longer, he. Why has he fallen so soon in the fray ? He should have waited to see the last. For, as there's a God in heaven above, not one of these dogs shall be left alive ! " CANTO XII. As thus he spoke, he lowered upon them. As a storm, working against The wind, makes black that part of the heaven where it sits, while all the rest Of sky and country fair beneath it outspread, is sunny and serene. So Roland lowered ; like a storm. Then like a storm he rode. As when A storm comes rattling on, surcharged with stress of rain and bickering hail : The welkin babbles battle : and driving clouds come flying on before. The banners of its progress. Behind them rides the tempest. And at large Unbosoming, vomits forth its deluge on flood and field, on vale and plain, Lashing with sheets of wet, and arrowy hail, the fertile works of man. So he. So he, like a storm, in storm came riding on. Before him, ride Terror and Panic. Behind them, the Element raged. Like as a prairie fire, — Long has it slumbered, gaining gradual strength, feeding its fury and Nursing itself on sticks and brushwood, till, no more to be smothered up. It belches out against the wood, driving through it resistless. On It roars, spreading abroad and rushing forward. The terrified animals, CANTO XII. 93 Pumas, bears, ounces, antelopes, buffaloes, cattle, in bellowing herd. Fly in front of it. Blazing behind them it comes, vomiting smoke and fire. So he, with his flashing armour, his charger snorting, his eyes glaring through His vizor, blazed. So did the Saracen host in panic ineffable fly. Like as a hurricane sweepeth remorseless over an Indian landscape fair. Razing in ruins the hamlets, and leaveth desolation where once was life, — Like as the morning after a hurricane : everywhere the ground is strewn With trees uprooted, and broken timber, and heaps of ruins, and scattered stones. Nature itself has changed its visage ; indistinguishable the scene. Such the change to-day from yesterday. Prospects new amaze the eye- Desolate novelty ! Such was the army of Saracens after Roland's ride. He himself had come to the uttermost end of the plain, his face toward A wall of rock, and right before him, between the wall of rock and he. Stood that same champion, who on his coal-black steed he erst descried had Felling the regiments. Like as a lion had fled before the prairie fire, And now stood panting, so did the Saracen champion stand beneath the rock. His face was black as coal ; a jewelled turban wrapped his helmet round. Roland knew him at once as the Caliph of Ethiopia, and of the whole Saracen world the doughtiest champion. He it was who in fight had slain The gallant Paladin, Ricciardetto, whom Astolpho did succeed. He had e'en, in the battle of Absharon, struck the brawny Turpin down. And, but for timely aid, had slain him. And coming hither to Roncesvalles Had threatened nothing less in his arrogance, than Roland himself to drag in chains Before his crafty nephew and liege, the Spanish Caliph. Black did he seem, As 'twere the Spirit of Evil, the soul of that bad host. Thus then he stood, Equipped in c6mplete panoply, face to face with Roland. On his shield, As charge, a salamander rampant, belching flames, right royal gules. And thus he spoke : " Full well might I, were preference possible, have desired To face thee, hound, with my redoubtable Ethiopians at my back, Sith thou art such a swelling champion, they say it takes more men than one To master thee. But such the wreck and foul disorder, into which This foolish panic has thrown the host, I know not where my soldiers are — Nor do I care." Thus spoke he gathering swaggering courage, and shaking his sword. " Come on ! Alone I am ; yet pitiful palsied fear no part of me Hath e'er been said to be; and a chronicle crowded as thine of feats of arms, A bill of bravery full as ample, can my roll of chivalry show. No fear of thee, or sooth of any of thy cursed brood, besetteth me. 'Twas I, thou ruffian, as thou knowest, who slew thy brother Paladin, Ricciardetto ; thy burly bishop, at the fight of Absharon, For lack of a crucifix to mumble to, I made him kiss the dust instead. Nor do I even fear thee, Roland, for all thy mighty name. Escape I cannot, and dauntless desperation will trebly brace my strength. Come on ! " And thus replied the royal Roland : " Then 'twas thou whom I descried, Caliph of Ethiopia, felling my weary men, abusing thus Thy powers acknowledged of potent prowess, in striking tirfed soldiers down. Their vengeance then experience !" Without a word more, they lay on. As when two blacksmiths in a smithy, standing opposite, do strike With ponderous hammers a bar of iron, red glowing from the fiery forge ; 94 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Sparks do fly in showers incessantly, as they strike alternately : So they fought, the Caliph and Roland ; so from the dint of their doughty blows Sparks in showers fly off from their armour ; in blaze of raining fire they fought. As when ships' carpenters, in the hollow hull of a vessel placed in the stocks. Batter the bellowing iron, and hammer at bolts and rivets about its joints ; Dreadful the battering hubbub ; and twenty echoing hammers are heard for one. Such was the battering, such was the clattering came from the Caliph's and Roland's blows. With cuts and slashes and stabs and passes and feints and parries and thrusts they fought; With slips and flips and voltes and lunges, thus Roland and the Caliph fought. But who can resist the Paladin peerless? Who shall the royal Roland brave? For with one stroke, the Caliph's scimitar, crash ! into shivers he shattered it, And with the next he shore him asunder down from the shoulder to the hip. In pieces twain the body fell thud on the ground, and thud again. Now turned he round to join his regiments, and coming back from the wall of rock, Through the Saracen multitudes moving, so thick they were, he waded through men. As when one in a London kitchen, entering with candle late at night ; Some hours the light has been extinguished, and on the floor black beetles crawl, Thick as sawdust, over each other in moving masses upon the ground ; An he attempt to cross the kitchen, ankle-deep he must walk in them. Such were the multitudes of Saracens, that he had to crush athrough. Not yet had they done arriving; for still adown the rocks and crags He saw them crawling, to join the surfeited swarms that filled the ground below. Thus went he crushing through them and over them : horrible was the way to him. Stifling seemed the atmosphere round him : sore oppression seized the knight. So close was it and suffocating, amid the huddled crowds around. As when a man enters a rat-pit, bred unto the nasty trade. Where all over, some feet and upward, the noisome pit's alive with rats ; Thither he enters, belike, to rescue some favourite terrier nearly killed. Which he for wagers has matched, and betted to kill so many rats an hour ■- Knee-deep in rats he wades across it to where his mauled friend doth lie. So did the knight wade through the Saracen multitudes, nigh smothered amidst their swarms. And thus he thought : " What sweaty rabbles of Saracen refuse choke the field ! 'Tis sooth a labour to move amongst them, to feel the air amidst their throngs. So thick they congregate, so close they cluster, so seethes the suffocate black mass around. If such the rabble base that now environeth my weary soldiers at the valley's head, But light anxiety, but scant solicitude may haunt my memory with thoughts of ill. With easy effort, they, and spare persistency, will hold till Charlemagne appears to aid. Yet much mistrusteth me, the Paynim chivalry, who spanned the centre of the teeming plain, Though now disordered in foul bewilderment, may soon recover from their panic fear. And forming lines anew, and gathering companies, so scattered now howe'er, howe'er dismayed. With squadrons marshalled and squares embattled will move anon upon the Prankish band. Already see I signs of lines re-forming, already rally lifts its voice abroad. And muster moderates the mixed multitude, and chaos sorts itself to symmetry. Yet hath the panic-struck confused bewilderment, I doubt me not, unto my weary men Brought great refreshenment and much alleviaunce, and hope, and rest, amid their misery. The fainting freshened, the brave encouraged, with spirits higher will defences dare." As thus he musing moved athrough the multitude, to join his weary soldiers at the valley's head. He heard in front of him a clanking terrible— in rhythm regular it did proceed, CANTO XII. 95 As 'twere the thumping and the clanking regular of mill machinery upon the ear. And spying through the ranks to make discovery of whence the hideous hubbub might arise. He saw in front of him, some distance off from him, a semicircle vast of kneeling blacks. Who waving flails of iron, with horrid brandishing, did smite their echoing shields to strike dismay. Rank upon rank they were, a serried multitude, in kneeling legions far as sight could spy ; And, ranked continuous in ring perpetual, between the rock and them had prisoned him. And thus they called aloud, whene'er they sighted him : " Let us avenge, avenge our fallen king. Great Ethiopians, resistless champions, a hundred fights have we together braved. The Christian carrion have we in merciless destruction driven ever from the field. Led on to victory by our redoubtable chief, king, and caliph, whom this dog has slain. Nor yet adversity has frowned fitfully upon the terror of our conquering arms. Great Ethiopians, resistless champions, let us avenge our fallen chief and king. Who struck with panic fear, in the bewilderment, at disadvantage ta'en, this hound has slain. Let us avenge him, then, since, first recovered afrom this silly foul confusion, we With lines a-marshalled and ranks embattled do see before us stand the cause of all. Great and heroical though Roland towereth, yet is he but a man like one of us. In name omnipotent, he scattereth multitudes. His name, belike, is stronger than his arm." Thus waving flails in air, and striking shields of iron, they vaunted confident. On them he drove. Like one endeavouring to tear and wrench apart iron railings, meaning somehow to get through ; One leg he firmly plants upon the solid ground, and with the other 'gainst the railings kneels. And shakes and tugs at them, and tears and wrenches them, till hands are bleeding, and till fingers raw : So Roland tore athrough the Ethiopians' flails : so through their flails and shields he tore his way. And cries arise around of dire extremity, of wounded heroes and of dying braves. First from the centre rings the surging summons out: " Help ! help us, brothers ! Help from either wing ! Terror like darkness has about encompassed us. Death with its blackness ravages our midst. An irresistible, a fell invincible, oppressive force — we cannot it withstand — Bears down and crushes us. Help, help, for honour's sake ! Ye cowards, hither help us from the wings ! " And thus replied to them the Ethiopians, upon the right wing marshalled, " Hold ye up ! Hither we come anon to aid ye, brothers." But their chiefs and captains, taking up the word. With shouts stentorian above the tumult cried : " No ! Hold ye fast ! nor dare ye stir a foot ! If ye but shift an inch your firm position here, ruin relentless bringeth us our doom." And as they shouted yet, the noise of crashing wreck came from the centre over t' wards the right. " Here comes the Terror ! Soldiers, wait your destiny. With courage desperate, hold close your ranks. Now 'tis amidst us ! " Crashing through it came. A universal babel, groans and cries. Arises ; dying voices send the summons out : " Help ! help us, brothers ! Help us from the left ! Horror like darkness has around encompassed us. Death with its blackness ravages our wing. An irresistible, a fell invincible, oppressive force — we cannot it withstand — Bears down and crushes us. Help, help, ye cowards, help ! Here with unflinching eyes we look on it, — The Terror. Heed ye not our sore solicitings ? There can ye bide, and see the army wrecked? " But onward did it pass, its work accomplishing, crushing and devastating where it went. So Roland tore athrough the Ethiopians : so through their flails and shields he tore his way ; 96 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Like one laboriously tears and wrenches at iron railings, till his hands are bleeding fast. Who shakes and tugs at them, and breaks and wrenches them : so through the iron flails he tore his way. But ever rallying with famous discipline, the Ethiopians their ranks repair. Where one hath fallen crushed, in death annihilate, another kneeleth dogged in his room. Where tracks of ruin marked the marred multitude, where gaps of horror yawned their files among. With ever closing lines and ever filling files the dauntless veterans the breach repair. " Though weaker now may be our brave resistance, though fainter, feebler grown we him oppose, Yet courage dauntless ours, yet minds invincible. With bosoms unappalled we wait our doom. And face to face with death, with death inevitable, no quaking tremor can our souls dismay. Great Ethiopians, resistless champions, a hundred fights have we together braved. Be this the last of them, and bring our destiny, then die we cheerfully upon the field. Now comes the ruin here, and stalks amidst of us. Now crashing on it comes. Before 't we fall. In life reproachless, and in death redoubtable, we die deliberate, and speak no more." But on the ruin passed, its work accomplishing ; and filling files and lines their place has filled From Ethiopians and Ethiopians in dauntless multitudes, in troops around. And thus they cried aloud : "Our comrades' substitutes, our lives as freely we shall throw away. The palm of bravery let none monopolise. We, full as brave as they, their places take ; Though weaker now may be our bold resistance, though, ever feebler grown, we him oppose. With souls inviolate of base timidity, with courage resolute, we wait our fate, Though every moment weaker our resistance be, though every moment fainter we oppose." Then cried the hindward ranks of Ethiopians, (rank upon rank, black as the night they loomed. Tremendous multitude ! that seemed the h6rizon with shade impenetrate to hide from sight), " Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond of us, though every one of us do writhe in death. No better service to thePaynim chivalry could we administer, than midst us all To keep imprisoned him, the irresistible, the fearful terror of the Paynim host. Though faint opponents we unto his prowessy, yet tough resistance can our union give. Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond of us, though every one of us do writhe in death." Then others 'hind them cried, their shouts re-echoing : "Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond. To throw in chaos fell the glittering chivalry, who, now recovered from their panic fear, Will soon in symmetry, with squadrons marshalled and squares embattled, move upon his men. We know their shining spears are fast behind of us ; we feel the gleams across our faces dart ; We hear the tramping of their moving regim.ents — ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond. What glory ours, the mighty Ethiopians, to save from jeopardy the glittering host ! Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond of us ; — over our bodies must he thither go." And others, these behind, the like vociferate, with clamour after clamour surging on : " Fast, fast behind of us, the Paynim chivalry in multitudes are moving on his men. We hear the sharp retorts of words of officers ; we hear the jingling bits and clashing arms. Destruction fell they bear unto his regiments : annihilation waits the weary Franks. What glory ours will be, the Ethiopians, thus, thus to prison him from off the host ! Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond of us. Ne'er shall he compass it to pass beyond. If ring and ring we stand, with interlocked arms, and living barriers form to interpose." At this they all arise in rings and rings around : a very forest towered of giant blacks. Their sable plumes did wave, black and funereal ; their squared shields on end, like hatchments. And he amid it all did seem environed with portents horrible, as on he moved. [loomed. Like one who traverseth the dark interior of forest tropical, where all around The rank luxuriance of vegetation teems, to fence the wayfarer and bar advance, CANTO XII. 97 Here thick entangled walls of clustering creepers rise; here prickly cactuses in thickets stick; Here interlacing boughs of palms and parasites, in hurdles plaited, cling and choke the way. While all amid the grass, so noisome, wet, and dank, that like a jungle carpets thick the wood. He sees or feels he sees, on every side of him, crawling and loathsome shapes of slimy things. Thus forces he his way athrough the labyrinth, dank, dusky, dark, entangled, barrier-bound. So Roland forced athrough the Ethiopians, so through their locked rings he forced his way. So forcing onward he from time to time did see the black and loathsome shapes of Ethiop knights. One he beheld enwrapped in velvet surcoat black, that like a pall did drape his lanky frame ; With rings of white and black enlaced alternately, his hideous habergeon in streaks appeared Of white and black, alike a hideous skeleton, that shook and rattled as it disappeared. Sore, sorely troubled at these portents horrible, athrough the locked rings he forced his way. As when the wayfarer amid the dingy shades spies in the noisome grass a slinking snake; So Roland saw Abime, the Ethiop general. Like as a royal tiger makes a bound Amid the jungle at a slimy rattlesnake, so Roland bounded at the black Abime. But like a snake amid the wet and matted grass slinking away, he slunk and disappeared. Then tore he on his way athrough the rings around ; with strength herculean he forced his way. In vain the tough tenacious rings oppose to him : a force robuster far opposeth them. Now should the shades of night have come enveloping, the gloom to deepen in the forest wild, Then far and wide around is heard re-echoing the roaring hideous of beasts of prey. So surged to its height the dreadful combat now : so raged the Ethiopians' roars around. Behind, in front of him, on every side of him, where'er he movfed, and afar beyond, Rose up and filled the air, like bellowing choruses, the disappointed roaring of the blacks. " In vain do we oppose the irresistible : our strength the stalwartest is strained in vain. In fell confusion are our lines encumbered : with such resistless force he bears us down." And now to right of them, where fiercely wrestled he, and forced resistlessly his forward way, Arose the hubbub up, " In vain do we, in vain the irresistible do we oppose. In fell confusion are our lines disordered : with such resistless force he bears us down." And further on from these now fiercely wrestled he, and forced resistlessly his forward way ; And here anew arose the clamouring hubbub up, " The irresistible we face in vain. In fell confusion are our lines disordered : a raging rabble are our ranged ranks. Terror like darkness has about encompassed us. Death with its blackness riots in our midst. Great Ethiopians, resistless champions, haste, haste, and muster up your swelling hordes. Haste, haste, and muster up ! or he escapeth us, and makes his way unto the glittering field. Here, here we writhe in death, struck down, annihilate, to choke his passage to the chivalry. Here, here we writhe in death, prostrate, exterminate, yet o'er our bodies doth he make his way." Now surged the summons out, flung here and there about, " Great Ethiopians, resistless braves. Haste, haste, and muster up, or he escapeth us." With that, in panic all do break their ranks. And hurry closing up in foul disorder round, a crowding multitude of ruffian blacks. " Let go the lines to wreck, since wrecked the army is by this destroyer fell — incarnate fiend ! Crowd round and murder him with force of multitude. Let not him scape us scathless at the last." All hurrying up they came in foul detachments round from wrecked companies and ravaged Their ruffian faces black, of aspect hideous, did seem to darker make the air around. [lines. And he amid them all, such fear inspired he — almost untouched he moved upon his way. As when amid a crowd of would-be ravishers a woman beautiful doth pass along ; With leering eyes at her, and ogling visages, where lust depicted is, they lean and stare. And she amid them all, with hair dishevelled, and heaving bosom fair, and flashing eyes. Doth pass athrough the crowd uninterferfed with : from very awe of her they hold them back. 98 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. So Roland passed athrough the hideous multitude, uninterfered with from very awe; So did his beautiful and noble face appear, his golden hair dishevelled on his brow. Thus stood they speechless there, a moment motionless, in admiration struck of him they saw. Yet was 't a moment mere they stood entranced so. The next, and ruffian clamours do arise. "Close round and murder him by force of multitude. Let him not scathless scape us at the last. Close round and choke his passage to the chivalry. Let him not scape unto the glittering field. Wrecks, wrecks, and remnants we of Ethiopia's best, bold, and brawniest braves sent to war, Yet are there left of us enough to vanquish him, if fortune favours us now at the last. Yet are there left of us enough to hamper him, and keep him prisoned from the glittering field. The effort answer now, ye Ethiopians ! Your strength redoubtable now put ye forth ! " And with them clamouring thus now fiercely wrestled he, and forced bit by bit his forward way. Yet stiffer now than e'er did the resistance come ; with tougher obstacle did he contend. " Close round and compass him, our stalwart warriors. Your strength redoubtable now put ye forth. Wrecks, wrecks, and remnants we of Ethiopia, yet are its bravest haply left till now." And still with effort fierce did Roland wrestle on ; still further through the throng he made his way. And thorough obstacle and thorough obstacle his mighty force enabled him to move. As when a man, who long hath pent in prison lain, (hewn out of solid rock its massive walls,) With effort desperate and long continuous the stanchions of his dungeon's door hath loosed : So Roland tore his way with effort fiercer out ; so further out the throng he tore his way. And thorough obstacle and thorough obstacle his mighty strength enabled him to pass. As when a man, immured in prison hideous, where he by fraud is treacherously trepanned ; Possessed he is in secret of a master-key, which not a lock on earth can e'er resist. First does he open with 't his hideous dungeon's doors : then through the corridors he takes his way. Sheer out of solid rock the massive walls are hewn, and doors as massive still do interpose. Their iron locks, like rock, stout and impregnable ; yet he, possessed of his master-key. Doth lock by lock undo, and roll the bolts away ; the intricatest wards the key rolls back. Door after door he opens, massive, huge, and strong; the prison gate itself doth yield to him. And he, emerging from his durance vile at last, doth see before him stretching out afar The open country, free, smiling in front of him, with prospect pleasant to his dimmed eyes : So Roland passed afrom the Ethiopians, so looked he out upon the glittering field. CANTO XIII. As when the sea, dancing in curling waves, in wide expanse of main, Flashes and sparkles beneath the sunlight : the waters laugh in ecstasy : So flashed the chivalry, so the sea of Saracens flashed and filled the field. As when the sun breaks from a bank of clouds, and shows his glorious ray Unto a crew of weary mariners toiling through a pitchy storm ; With hearts that thrill with hope and comfort, they gaze upon his brightening beams : So did the veterans and the barons see Roland stand upon the field. And thus they cried, " Now God give him victory ! God grant his royal arms success ! ' And others cried, " Nay, that He will. God will not desert us, friends." CANTO XIII. 99 As when the sea, dancing in curling waves, in wide expanse of main, Flashes and sparkles beneath the sunlight : the waters laugh in ecstasy : So flashed the chivalry, so the sea of Saracens flashed and filled the field. As when a bather, stripped and ready to dive, on the brink of a glassy lake All aglow with the gold of the sunlight, standeth ; his hands above his head. Pointed and closed ; his beautiful body, white against the afternoon ; His pliant limber frame arching ; his supple thighs curling. With joy He plungeth in the depths. So plunged Roland into the teeming field. At once the waves come round him. Billows of silver helms and shining shields Leap in ineffable heaps on the Paladin. He in the midst of the glittering sea Bluffly repelled' the shock, and herculean beat the ocean foaming back. Back and recoiling it ran in amaze, as it were, to find its breakers spent In vain. And a second time, on came the bellying billows anew, and covered him In froth, it seemed, of silver. But instantly back were they beaten with rougher shock. Back they recoiled, as it were, in amazement, a second time spent in vain. Here was a rock, where once rolled the ocean : here was an island, where sported the sea. Fast through the ranks of the multitude moving, the hasty intelligence busily ran, A champion mighty had entered the combat ; 'twas Roland, 'twas Roland himself in the fight. And now were the captains haranguing the companies : " Saracen soldiers, your mettle display. Now has approached the pith of the combat, the crisis supreme of the battle to-day. Roland himself has essayed the battle, the curse of our country, the foe of our race. He who an hour since in panic did scatter and drive us like, cravens away from his face. He, who an hour since the host did bewilder, now enters an army and forceth a fray. Saracen soldiers, the crisis is on us ; now put out your valour, your mettle display. With serried, compacted, and disciplined levies, with ranks interlaced and solid array, Thus move to the front, when the summons a-cometh, untainted of terror and dastard dismay." And thus cried the soldiers, and answered the captains, with voices heroic and accents of fire : " No sickly surmises, no pitiful terror, with silly misgivings our bosoms inspire. Once daunted, twice armfed, once frighted, twice nervfed, once captured unguarded, twice, trebly prepared. Ne'er, never again could great Roland accomplish the coup that an hour since he carried and dared. Too well are we marshalled, too stoutly are rallied, to skulk any man of us here from his place. Right ready are all of us, captains heroic, to march, when the summons comes, up to his face." And now were the knights and the champions curvetting on jennets of mettle of Araby's breed, " Right eager are all of us," thus did they chorus, " to splinter a lance with the foe of our creed. No canting misgivings, no quailings of terror with silly surmises our bosoms inspire. Knights, knights to the combat ! let jouster meet jouster in desperate lilting and tourney of fire. What glory for one of us here to have boasted in fight to have pricked at, with splintering spear, Great Roland heroic, the pride of the Christians, the Captain of Europe, the Saracens' fear ! Nay, haply, may one of us plainly compel him to bite at the dust, and lie stricken and dead, Or else, an it please ye, with courtly good humour, we'll save him the trouble and bite it instead. Come, come to the combat, ye minions of chivalry, Saracen princes and Saracen knights ! Come hither. Gramercy I with dice will we rattle, and cast for the courtly succession of fights. No canting misgivings, no quailings of terror with silly surmises our bosoms inspire. Knights, knights to the combat ! let jouster meet jouster in chivalrous tilting and tourney of fire." Thus hither and thither about through the multitude ran the intelligence, hasty and fast, 'Twas Roland himself who had entered the combat, 'twas Roland himself stood amidst them at last. THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And hither and thither about through the multitude, where the intelligence e'er was conveyed. Came surging from bosoms unquailing the answer, "Come forward and meet him ! Let cowards be dismayed ! " And he in the billows of silver around him, that constant increased with deafening roar. Stood firm as a rock, mid the waters that lash it, alone in the ocean, afar from the shore. Troops, troops, and detachments grew crowded and crowded, and captains and captains came marshalled around. And champions and princes pressed forward to face him, while clashings of armour and sabres resound. Like Mars, in the onset he stood, — the omnipotent god of the battle, in battle, his realm, Like Mars, when the Titans came towering upon him, or Leleges crowded in legions to whelm. He dauntless amidst them, his legs straddled firmly, greaved flashing in brass, and his sabre upraised. Stood, throwing before him his shield, a rotundity, which like the sun, flashing fierily, blazed ; His helmet with fury enveloped, his visage unclouded beneath it with fear or dismay : Thus stood the divinity once in the battle, thus stood in the battle the hero to-day. And champion by champion struck down and expiring, and leader by leader laid low in the dust, Full bitterly rufed their confidence dareful, full dearly did pay for their arrogant trust. In turns and in turns did the foemen assail him ; in turns and in turns were they dashed to the ground. Alack ! 'twas the flower of the Saracen chivalry, writhing and lifeless, lay scattered around. With courage determined, they forced the combat; with mightier courage, back, back were they hurled. Full bitterly rufed the Saracen captains their raid on the captain and chief of the world. " With legions assail me," thus cried he in anger, " ye Saracen leaders. Your efforts are vain. Despatched and destroyed, consumed and confounded, your champions chosen shall writhe on the plain. Vain, vain are your efforts heroic to harm me, and idle the deeds by your valour inspired. Alone and unaided, till doomsday I dare ye, and fight ye for ever, untouched and untired. With courtlier manners, with gallanter breeding, ye Saracen gentlemen, princes and knights. In other encounters, at other engagements, ye fairer had dared the fortune of fights. In lists, in the tourney, for chaplets of honour, with dames and with damsels beholding above. Ye well might have jousted in chivalrous combat for meed of fair glances and guerdon of love. In barrier fenced, in beaten arena, closed, closed in the joy of the clashing melee, Ye well might have cited me there to have met ye, and dared to its uttermost buffet the fray. Full well had I met you, ye Saracen gentlemen, there to have had of me all ye desire. In jest or in earnest, spear pointed or blunted, in meeting of love, or in tussle of ire. But here have ye gone from the path of your fathers ; here have ye blemished your chivalry's scroll : Here have ye sullied your fame of nobility, turning your honour to dolour and dole. Here leaguing (I know not, nor can my conception instruct me, howe'er ye consented therein). Here, leaguing with bad and abandoned deceivers, ye come on a mission and errand of sin. How hath it entered the thoughts of ye, gentlemen, thus to conspire for to cruelly wrong A band of poor soldiers, tired, footsore, and weary, in cover of peace marching fenceless along ? Doth it become you, your name and gentility ? Doth it become your traditions of fame. Doth it become your repute and nobility thus to complot with the workers of shame? No ! and, believe me, I ne'er could it credit, had chattering poet rehearsed it in verse. That Saracen gentlemen, leaguing with traitors, should blot their fair chivalry's fame with a curse. CANTO XIII. Yet here do I see ye arrayed before me, and forcing me fiercely the combat to dare. I lately have asked ye in tourney to meet me, and tilt in the sight of the brave and the fair. But no ! — 'twas no serious challenge I gave you. 'Twas jest and not earnest, ye Saracen men. With gentlemen only I tilt in the tourney, with knights unfamiliar to infamy's ken. To ye, — ye are leagued with a kennel of traitors. 'Tis bluster not courage your menaces blurt. Ye've dropped from the zenith of honour to ruin ; ye've dragged your nobility's name in the dirt. Taunts, taunts, and reproaches could never entice me, were flinching and cowardice flung in my face, To lift in the tilt-yard a finger to harm ye, to budge at your presence an inch from my place. There, there in the shrine of fair chivalry's dwelling, with beauty and honour and valour in view. Know this, and ye all of you hearken unto me, I'd shatter my sword ere I'd cross it with you." And thus cried the knights and the champions around him : " Sir Roland, thy fiery reproaches forbear. In chivalrous combat we meet thee right fairly j in chivalrous onset thy ardour we dare. Though thou of thy prowess and peerless nobility, higher than Saracen any, may boast. Yet we too are knights, and our honour we treasure ; our name and our fame are the prize we love most. We know not thy meaning, we guess not thy saying, of soldiers defenceless and treachery fell. In riddles thou speakest, Sir Knight, and the answer, if answer be any, excels us to tell. We rank it uncivil, we hold it uncourtly, for thee thy reproaches upon us to throw. In chivalrous combat we meet thee right fairly ; in chivalrous onset our valour we show." "Sooth, sooth, and ye know not the soul of the mischief! In secret the guilt has been plotted and played ! Right gladly I hear of it, Saracen gentlemen : here I unsay the reproaches I made. A secret so black, and a perjure so fearful, a crime uncondoned, a felony foul. Lies plumb at the bottom of all this arrayment. Fair, fair is the host, but black, black is its soul. A secret so dark, that from you it is hidden, lest honour and knighthood should force you-away. For villainous traitors have made ye their instruments, soiled you with shameful dishonour to-day. Yes I Traitors have made ye their instruments, gentlemen, ye, the 61ite of the Saracen name. Ye, gallants and princes, knights, captains, and warriors, guileless till now of the smirches of A plot, a conspiracy, artfully hatched, a handful of innocent men to waylay, [shame. Lapped round it with lies, and with perjury patched — this, this is the cause of the combat to-day. No knightly encounter, no courtly engagement, no martial contention of mettle is this : 'Tis treachery's triumph, 'tis shame's celebration, at which every gallant in Europe would hiss. My handful of soldiers, unwitting of danger, when peace had the land in security bound. Were cheerfully, wearily marching to homeward — and oh ! Paynim gallants, to see you around ! No knightly encounterj no courtly engagement, no martial contention of mettle is here : 'Tis treachery's triumph, 'tis shame's celebration — and ye can around me stand armed, and hear." And thus cried the Saracen champions and princes : " We witted not aught of this terrible tale. To martial encounter on martial conditions in martial inspirement we came to the vale." And thus crifed others in answer among them : " Aye, somewhat we heard of the story, 'tis true. Yet little we recked it. We took it for tattle. And little the credence we yielded thereto. The joy of the battle came flushing upon us, the hope of the combat did dazzle our mind : To stay it for rumours, to baulk it for babble, ne'er, ne'er was our mettlesome humour inclined." And some cried, " Sir Roland, take this to relieve us of aught of suspicion of treachery's bale ; An we had but known of the story you tell us, ne'er, ne'er had we, one of us, entered the vale. To knightly encounter, to courtly engagement, to martial encounter of mettle we came. 102 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And not to a' conflict contrived by baseness, complotted by perjury, malice, and shame." And he taking up them cried, " Gallants, to hear ye, it easeth my bosom of many a care. For, sooth, I had thought that the world were turned traitors, if ne'er in this army a gentleman were. But now do I find you as true and as courteous as e'er I have known ye in peace or in war. What tale will it be to report, that in honour the Christian and Paynim are still on a par ! And now let me tell ye again, that 'tis treachery, bad and malignant, has plotted this raid. Treachery, crafty, self-seeking, close-handed, that barters your lives for the gains of its trade. What does it care, if in hundreds ye perish, your blood if in torrents the herbage doth drench. So long as it compass the end of its scheming, and rake in its lucre or wreak its revenge ? Saracen gentlemen, be ye no longer the tools of the men who would chaffer ye thus. What will it profit you here to have fallen ? or what is your profit in vanquishing us ? Is this a bed on a battle of glory? No ! 'Tis a dunghill you'll stagger to, here. Is it gay knights you will worst in the combat? No ! but poor soldiers, defenceless anear. Peace was around them, ye Saracen gentlemen — let me the treachery's story recite — Peace was around them ; they witted no danger, they knew of no foeman, they harboured no spite ; The buffets and blows of their doughty encounters with you and your brothers in foray and fight. All, all — 'twas all over — the tussles between you, forgotten, forgiven, foreburifed quite. And peace was around them. But subtilest treachery, scheming amidst ye, unwotten to you. Can break, as it seemeth, the word of a nation, the faith of an empire can traitors undo. And so it gave out that the peace, it was no peace ; the word of your honour, it said, was a dream ; And treaties attested, and signed, and sealed, it tore into ribbons to compass its scheme. • Keep faith with an enemy ? Nay ! that is likely 1 Let's catch them and kill them, however we may.' And thus it persuaded the Saracen gentlemen round us in hordes to envelop to-day. It bruisfed your honour, ye Saracen gentlemen, making you tools to its basest designs. Ah ! woe is the hour for the fame of your chivalry, when that ye hither manoeuvred your liiies ! " And thus cried the Saracen champions and princes : " Woe, woe, that a story so sad should be true ! That treacherous countrymen thus have allowed ye. Sir Roland, to tax us with baseness and rue ! The laurels we pictured, with thee as our foeman, nay, e'en that already we seemed to wear. Have dropped from our foreheads ; gone, gone are our garlands : our brows of their honours are beggared and bare. " And thus crifed champions and princes among them : " We like not the story, we like not the tale. Most mightily wish we, that never this morning, in battled arrayed, we had entered the vale." And some cried, " Sith gallantry points us our duty, and marks unmistakeably how we should do, What remedy better, to heal us our honour, and save it from sorrier sully and rue. Than soothly to lower the points of our sabres, and further assailance and onset to stay. And draw off our forces, and change for a chaplet the veil of disgrace that surrounds us to-day ? " And he taking up them cried, " Gallants, to hear ye, it fiUeth my spirit with pleasure supreme. This, this is the accent of Paynim nobihty, this is the voice that becometh the theme. To lower your sabres, and sheathe in your scabbards the swords that are lifted in treachery's cause — Aye, gallants ! to what better use could you put them, than bend them in homage to chivalry's laws? Say, say, would ye gently and tenderly treat them, your bonny companions in many a fight? Then cover their glittering faces, and keep them from further pollution, from further despite. CANTO XIII. 103 For is 't not pollution, ye Saracen gentlemen, champions, and princes, your sabres to raise — Ye, fresh and unbreathfed, ye, armed and defended in panoply peerless, ye new to the frays — 'Gainst poor weary soldiers, who battered and wounded in strife against foemen scarce feebler than you. With helmets all broken, with bucklers all shattered, with swords, aye ! oft hacked to the hilt, face you now ? ^ Believe me, my tongue. Sirs, is guileless of adding one tittle of any excess to the truth, They scarce can stand up, in their terrible weariness ; shoulder on shoulder they lean in their ruth. Oh ! let me beseech you — and lowly beseeching, my spirit unbending hath stooped to it ne'er — Oh ! let me beseech you, ye Saracen gentlemen, spare my poor soldiers, in pity them spare ! Me, me — and your poniards in hundreds I take them, here, here, on my bosom, I'd call you to smite — To-day, could the thousands of sabres around me been braced to a compass sufficient and right. With joy had I buried them all in my bosom, my poor weary fellows their lives to respite. But here was no bargain for victim vicarious. Well have I known, that were I dead and down. In holocausts offered to barbarous vengeance my men to a man would in slaughter be strown. For them I beseech you — and lowly beseeching, my spirit unbending hath stooped to it ne'er — For them I beseech you, ye Saracen gentlemen. Spare my poor soldiers, in chivalry spare ! " And thus cried the captains and princes addressing each other and him in disordered words : '"Tis done. 'Tis decided. 'Tisover, the combat — No longer 't can last — The battle deferred's. No more could we fight on a theme so notorious — finished the fray is, and sheathed our swords. Such gallant entreaties ! such deadly disclosures ! — nay, nay, but in chivalry fair are we bound To give him in answer the boon he desireth — nay ! loud will the praise to our honour redound." And thus crifed others about and among them, conferring and speaking together there, "Aye! When such one entreateth — this Roland, the Captain of Europe — what is there to do but comply? Nay, e'en were it lawful, this contest, were e'en it a chivalrous fight, not a struggle of sin. Yet, an it were Roland entreating the favour, yet should we in honour be bound to give in." And thus cried they all of them ^peaking unto him, the Saracen princes, and champions, and knights : " Take, take, gallant Roland, the boon thou desirest, and purchase thy soldiers their riddance from fights. To thee in compliance, fair chivalry's chosen, the famousest knight that in knighthood doth breathe. We lower the points of our weapons unto thee, and back in our scabbards our sabres we sheathe." But now in the midst of this gallant confusion, a cry from the back did arise in the plain, " Make way for the Caliph ! Make way for the Caliph ! Make way for the Caliph — the Caliph of Spain ! " And gaily curvetting on beautiful horses, white, white as the milk, of Arabian breed, Came he and his body-guard prancing superbly through rank after rank oping, over the mead. The men of his squadron were gorgeously garbfed in armour that dazzled the eye to behold; Their bucklers were thickly encrusted with jewels, and powdered with suns and with crescents of gold. Their helms were surmounted with sheafs of pure silver, trussed artfully upward and cunningly bound. That swayed with the wind of their every motion, and shook with metallical crushing of sound. And he at their head, with his diadem cinctured, more lustrous, more gorgeous the armour he wore. His shield shinfed bravely : the field it was azure, and on it there glistened a crescent of or. 104 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And thus cried he frowning and looking around him : " What meaneth this parley and failure of fight? How mean ye, ye gentlemen, standing around me, your ardour suspending, and checking your might? Is this a parade, where ye come to display yourselves, since not a rapier around me I see ? — Some courtly review, where ye stand and array yourselves, stared at by dames and by damsels to be? There ! there lies your foeman ! some yards off before you. By numbers alone should you victory win. What panic, what terror, what quailing steals o'er you, that here ye stand idle, and flinch to begin ? " And thus cried the champions and princes together, " Great Caliph of Araby, temper thy ire. No canting misgivings, no quailings of terror with silly surmises our bosoms inspire. But, sooth, have we hither been brought in an error. We like not this combat, and fain would retire." And thus cried the Caliph, "What? slaves, serfs, and vassals, to tamper with motives and reasons for fight ? How like ye it not? An the terms of a battle came hot straight from hell, and by Satan indite. Yet have ye no option to question my summons, and saucily snuff at my sovereign right. Blind, blind the obedience ye are engaged and bounden to render to duty and me. No question, no reason, no pausing, no staying, no flinching, no flying, can, must, shall there be. Look ! see ye this symbol ? " With that, with his sceptre he struck on the crescent of gold on his shield. " The moon of Mahomet ! Ye know it. I wear it — the badge of th' obeisance ye must to me yield. As here in its brightness this crescent doth glisten, and still shall for ever gleam brighter and bright. So here I command ye, by creed and religion, your swords to unscabbard, and essay the fight. Right well can I gather the cause of your idling. This dog oT a Christian, with grandmother tongue. Has here been reciting ye stories of treason, the changes on guilt and debasement hath rung. But do not believe him ! and here for your comfort, to save from a sully that honour ye prize, I tell ye, and all of you hearken unto me, that every accent he utters are lies." As springeth the panther, lithe, limber, and active, with flexible bound at his shivering prey. So Roland that instant did spring at the Caliph, right over the ground that between of them lay. But he and his body-guard broke in confusion, in cowardly effort to speed them away. And nothing remained but some stragglers' horses, milkwhite and superb, who went springing away. 'Twas like the retreating recoil of a billow, struck back by a rock, and retiring in spray. And thus cried the Saracen champions and princes : " Acquit us. Sir Roland, of treason and spite. No option have we to examine the summons, or question our master's prerogative right. Again must we face ye, again must we dare ye, again must we tempt ye in battle and fight." With that were the sabres unsheathed from the scabbards, with glittering flashes and chivalrous show; With that were the lances set firm in the sockets, and pointed in serrifed row upon row. Lines, lines came advancing now gaily upon him : lines, lines were repulsfed now one after one. CANTO XIII. I OS The Saracen gentlemen pricked to the combat with valour undaunted, with spirit unwon. Alack ! that such chivalrous, valorous gentlemen fought on the side of foul treason and wrong ! For some on their helmets had bucks made of silver, and others had horns curling out from the cone; Of gold were the horns by the armourer forged, and royally bright in the sunshine they shone. And others had lions their morions adorning, couped, couchant, and rampant, sejint, combattant — Alack ! that such chivalrous, valorous gentlemen fought in the cause of foul malice and wrong ! Their helmets all glittered with sapphires ; the beavers with onyx and agate were stuck and beset ; The tassels that held them were silver and golden ; the coifs were of golden embroidery net. What flashing and glancing, as they came advancing, line, line after line in the glittering field, What flashing and glancing came sparkling and dancing from diapered tinctures on many a shield ! With chiefs and with chevrons, with cantons and gyrons, with pallets and billets of many a hue. With lozenges, rustres, with bezants and bendlets, seamed, powdered, and blazoned, they beetled to view. Gules, gules was the tincture that flowerfed the chiefest ; but eke were there argent, and azure, and or. Sole, sole was there lacking, that crest of the battle — the sable, the black — in the armour they wore. And there were the furs in their shimmering softness — the ermine, the ermines, the pean, and the vair — Fields, fields of surperbness, furs, metals, and tinctures, and charged with heraldry royal and rare. Suns, moons, in their glory, decrescent, increscent, stars, roses, and trefoils were blazoned about. Birds volant, hawks jessfed, and eagles displayed, boars, dragons, and griffins, a fabulous rout. Fish contre respecting, and squirrels asseyant, and fierce cat-a-mountains, armorials cant. Achieved and closfed in patterns heraldic with borders of reguly filigree quaint. And thus they in line after line were advancing, and line after line were repulsed and repelled. Full gaily they came, and as gaily retreated, half hoping, half wishing their prowessy quelled. Alas ! that such valorous, chivalrous gentlemen were with the wicked in fellowship held ! Oh ! brave was the sight of the Saracen chivalry, thus as they rode them in battle that day I And sure did the sun never shine on a spectacle brighter, or fairer, or nobler, than they. It lit up their armour, it lit up their helmets, it flashed froip their shields with its dazzling raysj And armour and helmets alike, and their shields, were with emeralds, diamonds, rubies, ablaze. The crowns of their helmets with diamonds glittered ; their armour with beryls and rubies was dight ; Their shields, with their maze of heraldic devices, with brilliants and rubies and gems were alight. Oh ! brave was the sight of the Saracen chivalry, riding in troops in the battle that day I Sure ne'er did the eye ever gaze on a spectacle brighter, or fairer, or nobler, than they. And he, in a field of such dazzling brightness— he, in a field, where all in it were stars, Shone like a comet among them — a comet, portending to empires destruction and wars. As e'er should a comet, in heaven advancing, draw systems to chaos, and many a world Send crashing together — so Roland, advancing, to ruin and chaos the chivalry hurled. His onward advancing, it meant but confusion to all the bright squadrons around him arrayed. He moved — and they pausfed. He stirred— and they faltered. He put forth his strength— and they all were afraid. Thus passed he among them ; and sorely bewildered to stay him from forward progression they seemed. P io6 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Where'er he assailfed, that spot it was stricken with panic ; with chaos ungoverned, it teemed. Well nigh had the panic, that erst universal had seized them, a second time seizfed their souls. The stronger they felt it arising upon them, the deeper their ranks the disorder enrolls. Thus onward advancing he caused confusion untold, and a terror again and again. And thus he advanced through the Saracen chivalry, fighting his way through the midst of the plain. Not far was he off from the head of the valley ; and thicker the conflict now waxfed around. Fierce battle anear him was plainly proceeding ; such clashings of armour and sabres resound. Full well did he augur the cause of the tumult. Right gladly his ear did he lay to 't; for then He knew that at last, some few yards off at furthest, he stood in the neighbourhood close of his men. And thus he exclaimed, uplifting his resonant voice to be heard o'er the deafening hum, " Fight on ye, my soldiers. 'Tis Roland that calls you. 'Tis he comes to aid you. I, Roland, I come." CANTO XIV. Thus cried he, and striding he pushed the Saracen ranks, that intercepted his wa)', With easy effort apart. Next minute he stood in the midst of his cheering men, What cries of welcome, of joy, of comfort, were rising around him ! and up and down The straggling lines were the barons and veterans lustily cheering from end to end. But he, addressing himself to Oliver, Duke Gaifier, and Duke Ast6r, Baron Fulke of Rheims, and Gautier, who the nearest to him were placed. Spoke with words of hope and comfort, while joy was brightening in his eye, " Gentlemen all, the news 1 bear you will re-assure ye mightily. I left the flower of the Saracen chivalry over yonder, demoralised ; Their sense of knighthood alive, awakened, to feeling the foul disgrace of to-day. Once had they well nigh sheathed their sabres ; and, when they drew them again from sheath. With faint attacks and noble half-heartedness charging they came, and back recoiled, Willing as 't seemed to meet reverses, half hoping, half wishing their prowessy quelled. Hither when 1 advanced in earnest, and forced my way to the head of the vale. In much confusion I drave them ; and hitherto unrestorfed, unordered, they be. This is our fortunate moment, gentlemen. Say, can ye muster, with me at your head, And charge the disordered levies ^ What say ye ? And victory smileth upon us, I trow." And thus cried they, and others near them, who listened to him alike with them, " May God be praised for what thou tellest us ! Aye I will we follow right heartily thee. And strain to the most our wearied sinews to turn defeat to victory." And thus cried others to right and to left of them, further away, on hearing the news, " Though battered our armour and broken our helmets, yet, yet will we charge to the thick of the host. Not reckless death, but royal victory, thither we march to seek and find." And thus cried Oliver, taking Roland by the arm, " Compagnon dear. Forgive me those speeches rash I made thee erstwhile, when thou didst wind thy horn. 'Twas well done, comrade. Belike the Emperor may have heard it, and still in time Arrive to save us. Such quickened vigour, such courage new, thy rare exploits CANTO XIV. 107 Have fusfed in us — why, I could almost weep to think how the battle now Is going, Roland. And victory possible ! Close at thy side in the charge I'll be, Or fast behind thee." But Roland replied, " Nay, nay, Oliver, stay thou here. Only the freshest of us must go. The sorest and weariest here must remain On strict defensive. To thee, the weariest of us all, I leave their care. Why, man, do'st know ? thy eyes are brimming with tears. Brush them away, boy, and do The task I bid thee. Now, gentlemen, barons and veterans, there behind, do ye. While we in the front keep off the bullying foemen, marshal and sort yourselves. The freshest of ye only gathering. The rest of ye under Sir Oliver Will here remain defensive, biding the issue of our valorous charge. Now, with what haste ye may, see to it, and form compact in column close Behind me marshalled ! When you are ready, ring out the word, and follow me ! " Little delay did the gallant army make to doing his command. With rapid aptitude, the weary warriors, forgetful never of their discipline, Soon marshalled into close battalion, and rang out " Ready ! " from behind. Then Roland moved, and they did follow, right in amidst the seething host. Some were on foot, and some on horseback, yet steeds could scarce a score they boast. On this a veteran, on this a baron, sat in promiscuous strange array. And in the ranks here walked a veteran, and here a baron at his side— A very marching medley ! Their battered armour chinked and rattled strange. Some tattered banners waved above them, which tattered bearers carried. Their sole bright spot was he who led them, tight curbing in his fiery steed To wait upon his slow retainers. Yet did they with their notchfed blades Give cuts and blows continuous. Yet did the Saracen host to open make This ragged regiment. Behind them it closed anon, and Oliver and his men Were left alone. There, where they stood, if only they might keep off in front Their bullying foes, safe and protected a long defensive they might dare. For 'twas at the valley's head they were gathered, when first this second fight began. And full two fifths of their straggling lines were safely guarded at the back By crags of rock, which ran up sheer, forbidding all attack from behind. While the three fifths, or more than half, that remained, was equally guarded well By broken humpy ground, so rugged, that scarce could a man two paces take But he would stumble ; and this went spreading not very far, but it was blocked By steep declivitous passes, — so likewise here were they beguarded well. Now when the lines were full of men at the battle's commencement and ere the charge. The little Prankish army stood in front of their bastions, and reached out Almost across the valley, the rocky walls defending their rear on the right. And on the left, almost as surely, the broken ground defending it. But now Sir Oliver drew his diminished forces together, and movfed them Little by little towards the rocky crags entirely, that ran up sheer ; And thus defended— for though the ground behind the crags in the valley was smooth. Yet was there neither climbing nor forcing them, so precipitous up they ran — Thus defended, as safe as Fortune on that fell day could harbour them, He held his men full well together, and kept them all right well in hand; And he amid them and they full stoutly kept off their bullying foes before. And thus he cried to one of the veterans : " Jacques, man, keep thy head up there. Art going to butt the lazarly enemy, that thus thou doublest up thyself .' " io8 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. " All right. Sir Oliver," cried the veteran. " 'Twas but a moment, and now I'm straight. These cursfed greaves of mine, so battered and shattered and crushed they are, i'faith They trip me up. Sir, most confoundedly. Nigh, very nigh had I stumbled quite." " What, Sieur de Coucy,'' shouted Oliver, "actually do 1 see thee kneel? " " Yes ! " with a cut and a slash cried De Coucy. " There ! thou Saracen dog, take that ! Say thy prayers to me this time. Down on thy knees ! — and so on thy back ! Kneeling perforce was I, Sir Oliver; brought to my knees by as strong an arm As ever rascally Saracen lifted. But, as thou seest, the times have changed. The object of my meek adoration now lies and studies the sun on his back. Here, ruffian fellow, art thou his brother? Go, join him in his astronomy ! " " Marquis de Ternaut," cried Sir Oliver, " move thyself a-nearer to me. Thy wounded frame is bleeding sorely. Sir ; and in my neighbourhood Somewhat of lull there is, compared unto the pother stirs elsewhere." " Right gladly. Sir Oliver," cried the baron, " will I withdraw me near thy side. Fain had I thither come before, but had reluctance to propose. Much did I fear, and e'en do now, lest there I scarce can drag myself." And thus cried the veteran, Reginald Dubois, unto his neighbour, Arthur Roze : " I wonder mightily, how our comrades under Sir Roland are getting on. Much did I wish to be among them; but so was weary and broken down, I dare not even offer myself, lest I should sink upon the way." Thus spoke they in pauses of fencing perpetual, or when the onset lighter was. And Arthur Roze to Reginald Dubois, his neighbour on the right, replied : " And I did wish to be among them. And, sooth, at the thought of fighting again Among the lads behind Sir Roland, my spirit rose and waxed so That I would suffer no denial ; I dinned their ears with solicitings. But look at my armour ! and look at my sword ! and look at myself ! No wonder, then, That they replied, ' Good Arthur, rest thee. Thou'lt fight the better, when we return.' So here am I beside thee, Reginald. And here are a pair of bullies at us 1 " Thus spoke they in pauses of fencing perpetual, or when the onset lighter was. And thus cried the veteran, Herbert M6relle, unto the baron, Comte d' Auxerre, "My lord, an't please ye to heed my telling, you'll move your shield some half foot down. D'ye see these javelins three, a-lying on the grass about your feet ? While you were just now stabbing the African, whiz they came, as if they were aimed. As sooth they were, at the joints, for certain, of your armour about your knees." And thus cried the Comte d' Auxerre to his neighbour, the baron Engelier, " Move thy shield Some half foot down, Engelier. Rascally dogs that they are, sith helmets whole And gorgets still untattered defy the doughtiest dint of their aimed blows, They spy our harness battered at knee, where we on horseback all the day. Forcing our way athrough their swarms, have cruelly mauled and maimed it. And there direct their blows." And the veteran, Herbert Morelle, thus cried to his left Hand neighbour, the agfed Anseis, baron of acres broad in Picardy, "My lord, canst tell how long the fighters under Sir Roland will be away? Right gladly could I see them returning to bid us swell the victory ; Or if not that, at least some stint from this perpetual fighting give." And thus did Anseis say, " Good Herbert, then I am in like plight with thee. Right gladly could I see them returning to bid us swell the victory. And if victorious or like to be so, then in a short time, at the most. May we expect the tidings. God grant them, heroes, victory and success ! " CANTO XIV. 109 Thus spoke they in pauses of fencing perpetual; or when the onset lighter was. And now among the barons and veterans began to ring the words about : " God grant our brothers ! God grant the heroes victory glorious and success ! Soon shall we see them here returning to bid us swell their conquering ranks. And force before us the bullying foemen, like chaff before the lusty wind. With spirit undaunted they dared the battle, though tired they were and wearied sore. And God doth smile on such heroic emprise and spotless chivalry. Not to the brightest, the gayest, the brilliantest warriors doth he grant success, But unto those with courage determined who stoutly resolve to dare and die. Yea ! unto such as are our own brothers, doth He victory grant and give : Who with spirit undaunted have darfed the battle, though tired and wearied sore : Yea ! will He smile upon them, upon their heroic emprise and chivalry." Thus did the word among the barons and veterans 'gin to ring about. Thus spoke they together in pauses of fencing perpetual, or when the onset waned. And now four veterans, who were fighting hard by the rugged ground on the left, Did cry they saw a something moving towards them amid the seething host. They said they saw a moving tumult, ploughing its way across the plain. " Hither it comes ; and unmistakeably 'tis our men returning," they cried. " Now God be blessed ! " thus cried some, " they bring us news of victory." But others cried, " Why come they all, then? or if 'tis victory, why so soon? " And others, "Why not send us tidings? Wherefore come they all to tell?" And most did say, " Sore, sore we fear it, lest disaster may have happed. Sore, sore misgiveth us our fancy, lest aught may have betided ill." As thus they spoke, comparing together, they were aware of a lull in front. The noise of tumult was heard approaching. Their bullying foemen melted away; And in their place, all through the failing and disappearing ranks, there came The ragged regiment, of some on foot, and some on horseback, with steeds a score. Whereon a veteran sat on this, on that a baron promiscuously. And in the crowd here walked a veteran, and there a baron at his side — A marching medley ! Their battered armour chinked and clattered very strange. Above them waved their tattered banners, which tattered banner-bearers bore. The rear was closed by Roland, and round him rushed roaring the surge of the Saracen host. All else was crestfallen. There were the barons, Duke Gaifier, and Duke Astor, Also the Paladin, Turpin, walking next to the veteran, Anthony Broune ; Gaston and Gerard and gallant Gautier, barons three of Languedoc ; Baron Fulke of Rheims, Duke Samson, Brian, Berengier, Gerein of Aix ; Old Roger Collart, the veterans' patriarch, Geoffrey Rudal, the Comte St. Cyr, The Seigneur de Borde, and Hector de Montdevis, Scipio, Sieur de Vimercat, Jacques Peronne, the Marquis de Pidal, Colin Duclos, and the Comte de Foix. These and many more there were — mixed ranks, grades mingled, confused degrees — All of them crestfallen, all of them spiritless, all in a woeful plight returned Back from the battle they braved in the morning, but now with their bravery vaunted in vain. Thus mixed they in their comrades* ranks, and never a word was said by one. But Roland to Oliver, hastily speaking, cried, " List ! The battle's too hot for them. They cannot live in it, and did but hamper me in my road about the plain. Not, not a groat of good is one of them. They cannot hit. Their strength is gone. My heart did bleed to see the poor fatigued fellows in the fight. Meanwhile the Saracens, on the contrary, with spirits high and ardour raised THE DEATH OF ROLAND. By what they witnessed — our ragged endeavour-^are leisurely now manoeuvring Their regiments, so to move them hitherward one by one as occasion calls. Leisurely, easily, as at review-day, they span the centre of the plain. Regiment after regiment, aye ! and army by army they swear to send, Till they have crushed and stamped resistance out, and annihilate us all. Therefore, Oliver, do thou assemble and marshal the men in a packed press. Let ne'er a straggler be. Behind us, these crags defend, and to the left That rugged ground protecteth mightily well the rear of those who 're there. Stand strict defensive ! Meanwhile I will beat about the Saracen host. And work what wrack and fell confusion these arms can do." " Roland, I hear. And too thou knowest I'll do it. And, brother, here one word more ! — And Charlemagne ? " " And Charlemagne, compagnon dear, ere the sun sets shall stand on the field." Thus ended he, and passed away alone into the enemy's lines. Meanwhile Sir Oliver, raising his voice stentorian, shouted above the hum, " Franks, gentlemen all, the captain's orders are fast to marshal in a press. Hither to back these rocky bastions let the tired and weaker come ; The rest to spread in serried order in front of the rugged ground on the left. Speed ye, or ere the onset waxeth 1 that, when our foemen in force assail. No straggling levies be here to favour their charge impetuous, but, instead. One serried, solid, firm, compacted press, their bullying might to baulk. Shield to shield, and shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, and man to man. Stand ye, and stick to strict defensive. And hear our captain's promises. That if ye only hold together, rescue will come ere sets the sun. Now give my orders consummation, and marshal in thronged press forthwith." Little delay did the gallant army make to doing his command. With rapid aptitude, the weary warriors, forgetful never of their discipline. Soon thronged into close battalion, solid, compact, and serried ; With ne'er a straggler on any quarter, but one continuous firm array. 'Twas not an instant too soon accomplished. For ever their bullying foes in front Kept swelling incessant in mighty numbers, an evergrowing, rising flood. They heard in front the words of officers ring sharp and clear upon the air. They saw the overwhelming levies marshalled in disciplined columns and lines. And thus cried Oliver, "Now, lads, your doggedness, tough and determinedly put it out. Hold close together, with stiff tenacity. Budge not an inch of your firm array ! " Like as the bricks in a wall are mortared, one on another compact and firm, So were the shields of the Prankish army locked and compacted in serried row. So did the veterans, knights, and barons stand, like a brick wall, solidly. Shield to shield, and shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank, and man to man. Now ran along the hurried utterance down the press, from end to end, " Now do they charge ! Prepare ye, each one of us ! Budge not an inch, and stand the shock ! ' Then came the Saracens on. As when the sea comes roaring against the stream Of emptying river, rebellowing booms it, and jutty crags and shingly shores Awake to re-echo the uproar. On rushes it up the estuary, and meets Stock in the water, dumb and immoveable, a cordon of rocks that span the stream. Foaming it rages about the obstacle, in whirlpools broken and rebuffed. Then, as 'twere, breathing a moment, and heaving a mighty disappointed sob, Back, back it comes, and beats against the boulders. So did the Saracens charge. So did the Franks resist, stolid, dogged, and imperturbable. CANTO XIV. Foul and fearful was the confusion of the foremost Saracen lines. Wrecks of companies, files disordered, staggered and seethed before the Franks. Then did the ardour of the chivalrous Duke Gaifier contain itself No longer, but thus he shouted : " The token I see in this disordered crowd Of Heaven's favour, of fate reversed, which slow though sure has come at last. Thus, thus — for my chivalrous spirit no longer can pen itself a prisoner here ; Expand in the joy of the jubilant battle it must, or break my breast away. Thus, thus do I go to my death or my glory. Alone into legions I rush unafraid." Thus speaking, he sprang a long way out, right into the thick of the Saracen host, And turning sharp round at the nearest, a Saracen giant, he seized him rough by the throat. And buried his glittering rapier within him. Then, swinging his blade in a circle around. He cleared a space, and, of those were about him, he laid of them twain stark dead on the ground. Then rushed he fierce at an Emir among them, the leader chief of the regiment — But now the veteran, Roger CoUart, to emulous rivalry kindled high. Ran out to his side ; and the two together stood and defied the Saracen host. And then did Anthony Broune, the veteran, ahd after him Jacques Pelleton, Run out to aid them, and next the baron, Berengier, broke and ran from the lines. But ere Berengier reached his brothers, a line of Saracens, rallying quick, Stood intercepting, and closed him off ; and, forming round, assailed him. Then ran out straightway Geoffrey Rudal, and Jacques Peronne, and the Seigneur de Borde, And others with them, meaning to help Berengier surrounded there. Thus were the men on the left, in ardour unquenchable, breaking from the lines. Now had all they, who first had hurried in ardour into the Saracen lines, Each slain his man or more ; for, marry ! round the chivalrous Duke Gaifier Some eight or ten, a dozen bodies, of killM Saracens lay on the ground. Nor less but one or two round Roger Collart, the veterans' patriarch. And those who still remained in battalion, seeing their brothers' prowessy, With emulous cheering encouraged their valour, or, emulous more, kept breaking away. Meanwhile Sir Ohver, who was fighting in the thickest part of the press, That is, on the right and under the rocks, where the weaker soldiers were : He and Turpin and other gallants fought in front of the weaker men : Here the press was most compacted, shield to shield, and man to man, — Meanwhile Sir Oliver, hearing the cheering and the shouting from the left, Was much perplexed to conjecture whate'er could be the cause of it. And spying through the ranks embattled, he saw the men fast breaking away, And far in front among the Saracens — scarce could he believe his eyes — Collart and Duke Gaifier and Berengier fiercely fighting for their lives. For now had the swelling ranks of Saracens up mustered and circumvented them. And they in the midst were nigh exhausted — alack ! too weary warriors ! Who knocks not blows, who pricks not stabs, gave, and received what gave they not. Meanwhile their comrades, struggling to reach" them, were scattered in twos and threes about. The whole of the left wing of the press pell-mell confusion did appear. And thus cried Oliver unto Turpin : " Sore danger encompasses the left. Take my place, bishop. Do double work. My work is rescue, not defence." Thus saying he moved; and passing through the yielding ranks in fror^t of him, Right through the enemies' lines embattled with little trouble he made his way Unto the spot, where those poor three still fought, nigh done to death with blows And throwing before them his shield enormous, he cried, " Betake ye to the rear I 112 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Wherefore this buxom display of spirit? Did I not tell ye to keep your ranks? Ho ! every soldier, under cover of my protection, back to the press ! And form, with what despatch ye may ! I cannot hold them long in check." As when a lazy ass hath entered unbidden a careful farmer's field, Where thistles and dockweeds tempt its appetite : it munches them contentedly : Meanwhile the rustics and the boys come with intent to drive it out, And some with sticks and some with stones belabour, or push it from behind. Slowly and leisurely it retires, turning its head round now and again As in expostulation, or snatching a bunch of thistles from the ground. With difficulty huge they drive it out. So did the Saracens drive. So did Sir Oliver to his station slowly and leisurely retire. Once more were they in serried phalanx, all danger past, experience won. And thus cried one of the left wing veterans, " Well it was, that Sir Oliver Came to assist us over yonder; else had our lives paid penalty For foolish rashness : circumvented and menaced we were with certain death." And thus another cried ; " Assuredly might our blood have drenched the grass. The herbage manuring, instead of coursing as at present in our veins. Fain would I keep my ruddy liquid safe and warm within my skin. I fancy we every drop shall want of it, ere this fearful day has closed." And thus cried one of the left wing veterans to a Saracen foe in front : " Not thou, thou lubberly caitiff, or any of thy cursed brood shall make me budge Aye ! e'en the length of my great toe forward, though tempting morsels all ye be. Fain would my good sword dish ye up, and taste the savoury fricassee. But here, hold hard ! old jackanapes ! jackanapes ! d — n thee, what dost thou say to that ? My sword's become a cheese-taster, comrades ; it's bored the bully through and through." And thus cried one of the left wing veterans, fencing smart with a Saracen : " Cut, thrust, and parry — Aye ! I'll give it thee. Not for nothing I learned my trade. What? — eh? — another loon to help thee ? Come on, then ! Two to one. I'll play At double single-stick. Ha! how's that? And that? — And that, thou skulking calf ? Gramercy ! now I come to look on thee, I took thy head for a turnip top, And so I shore it off. And thou, thou base, big, hectoring, braggado- cio, bumptious bully, thou butter puncheon — Heh ! thus I bore thee. Down thou go'st ! " And thus cried one among his neighbours, to a Saracen : " Scurvy knave ! Dost know the mother who suckled thee ? Would'st like to see her face once more ? Go then and find it. 'Twas mother Earth. So ! — sprawl upon her breast once more." And thus cried Roger Collart, the veteran, among his comrades as he fought, " Over yonder with Duke Gaifier and Baron Berengier mid the foes, I could have killed till doomsday, methinketh, had not Sir Oliver stopped the fray." But thus replied his laughing comrades : " No, no, old Roger ! thy will was good. And so was that of the gallants with thee. But you were hitting anyhow. Striking, or rather slapping, at random ; you'd lost your heads, the three of you. At first of all, ye fought right rarely, but afterwards ! — well ! you aimed at the air ; And slapped and patted your foes so gently, 'twas like the backhand of a girl." And thus cried Roger Collart angrily : " Here, at this Saracen knave in front. Here ! — here is such another backhand. Was that of the sort I gave in the fight? Girl or no girl, maid, married, or widow, who gave that backhand, it's knocked him down." And thus cried one of his neighbours, Anthony Broune, who had followed him close at the time, " A truce to teasing Roger Collart. He better did than had any of us. CANTO XIV. 113 Ten rascally Saracens lay around him dead, ere that Sir Oliver came. His strength was failing, as whose would not, who e'er since four o'clock in the morn Till late on a summer's afternoon had been incessantly fighting on ? I know, myself, my arms do ache so plaguily, scarce can I feel them arms. But more like branches of broken timber they swing around me as I fight. Well was 't, in troth, for him and the rest o' us, that Sir Oliver stopped the fray." And thus cried they all, " Well was 't, in troth, that gallant Sir Oliver came to aid. And back enabled us to hasten, and form once more in serried row." And thus cried the veteran, Jacques Peronne, unto his neighbour, Colin Duclos : " Dost see this blade ? and count the notches. Three— two are five— and one, two, three, Four, five, make ten — stay, here's a couple — Twelve ! — and two little ones, that's fourteen. Of fourteen skulls they are the evidence, which I to-day have hacked and cracked." And thus cried Colin to his neighbour, Jacques Peronne, in answer : •' See ! Look at this dagger ! What 's its colour ? Has 't just come from the silversmith's. Sent by the armourer to have its glittering steel re-silvered to make it shine? Well ! it was so this morning, for ere we started, at Cord6va I Sent it to have it burnished, to make a show to my friends in Languedoc. But now behold it ! Alike the mahogany hanger that vices wield in the play. So is its blade — black-red. At the foremost encounter this morning, I broke my sword, And ever since this long and trusty dagger all day I've used instead. I took my penknife, some hours agone, when we sat talking in the vale. And tried to scrape the red off. But no ! — so deep was the dirty blood dyed in. So fast engrained, so thick inlaid, that not a scratch of bright I made." And thus cried the veteran, Geoffrey Rudal, unto his neighbour, Arthur Roze, "Come, teach me the lunge, good Arthur, this morning I saw thee ere fell fatigue broke down Thy customed spirit so successfully playing on many a Saracen. Is 't thus thou presentest thy point? And is 't thus thou deceivest thy enemy's deft parade? See ! here is a jerkin most timely before us. With rapier unbuttoned and sharp, I play. Saha ! saucy Saracen, — this, the extension — and this, the deceit of parade — and at once I lunge ! — and, his foible idly a-wagging in air, down down he goes like a shot." And thus cried Arthur Roze, "Thou hast it : and demonstration more practical Could none have given of the secret. Old Bertrand Born, he taught it the. And many a weary job to-day it's shortened for rae, I tell you, boy." And thus were saying a pair of veterans, fast in the neighbourhood of these : — " See, here come a brace of Saracen turkeys, ready and anxious to be trussed." " How likest thou, bully," cried one of the veterans, " say, how likest thou to be done ? With sauce of breadcrumbs, or sage and onions? All's one to me. This basket-hilt Of mine contains a kitchen garden. There ! d— n thee ! And make the gravy thyself." And thus the other veteran cried : " My turkey cackles. He's still alive. But an the wattles of his wizand are hanging flesh, I'll have them off. So ! thus I slice them, and now the bones through joint and gristle— down down he goes ! The grass's his dish of willow pattern, whereon he waiteth to be carved." And thus a group of gallant veterans, fighting stoutly anear these twain, Were saying thus : " This, this is pleasant. Most, most successfully we fight. At every punch down drops a Saracen. Our arms with vigour new inspired Do seem each minute. Though fresh the foemen, they're still the weaklings of this morn, Or we mistake us. Now if our leaders would only let us charge amain, As erst this morning with boisterous ardour we charged and stormed about the host, Q 114 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. What work, what wrack, what wreck, what ruth, what execution might we wreak ! But here pent up in this straight-jacket, shoulder to shoulder, and shield to shield. Our best endeavours burst our bosoms, for lack of entering our arms. Well, well it is for our renownfed discipline, and repute in war, That not until to death we're wearied, and apt to truckle under thus, Our leaders here have straitly bid us to stand like stocks and stones a-still. Else had our best and trained efforts to obey, not held us back. Thus, thus to stand while battle wooeth in front, pent up in prison vile ! " And thus a veteran near the middle of the press did jeering shout : "Cock certain am I of that caitiff with spangled helm and russet plume. Alike a moth around a candle, so hath he fluttered me around Some good half-hour or more. Nay ! butterfly, an I could step me out to thee. Instead of being chained and rooted down in cursed cabin here, I'd singe thy wings for thee. But stay ! A'nt I the light that him attracts ? Well, let me stay and blaze. For certain, here he comes at me again. Now, Jean le Breton, that's not fair. The man is mine, and 's been all day. See, see, he leaves you and makes for me, his own dear candle that he loves. Now, now I've got him. Puff! But a wonder! — the candle burns, the moth goes out. Faugh ! I can smell old Lucifer's sulphur from his plume upon the ground." And thus cried burly Jean le Breton, the burliest of the veterans, " I, like a spider, have but motionless here to sit, and eat my flies. They all come to me, one by one. I needn't move a jot to get 'em. But open-mouthed I stand and gape. And one by one they enter in." Thus were they speaking, the weary veterans, stoutly fighting in the press. Forgetful never of their orders, nor budging an inch at foeS before, Howe'er enticing were the prospect of gay success from free assault. Meanwhile the barons, who were fighting scattered among them, but more towards' The right of the press in greater force, baron and baron there side by side. With equal ardour braved the battle, but more of unrestrained zeal. Most hardly could the gallant Sir Oliver quell their fiery spirits down. And thus he shouted : " Like horses reined and curbed with gripping bit aback. Yet ever snorting to gallop forward, ye stand. Calm, quell your spirits down. Is this a m61ee in a tilt-yard in gay Provence? No ! no ! but death, Stark, staring death of royal fighters threatens inevitably advance. Think of your brothers tired behind us, between the walls of rock and we. 'Tis not to coax your swelling chivalry that ye fight, but for their lives. Like horses reined and curbed with gripping bit, yet snorting to gallop on. Ye stand. Break, break your fiery mettle, quell zeal, and set my mind at rest." But not with all his strict solicitings could he quell their courage down. With leaping ardour, ungoverned valour, oft did they spring from out the ranks. And fight some paces forward, till backward entreated or pulled by comrades behind. " Like horses reined and curbed with biting bit aback," cried Oliver, " Yet ever snorting to gallop free, ye stand. Back, back, ye there, to rank ! Is this a melee astir in a tilt-yard in gay Provence or Languedoc ? No ! no ! but battle desperate is it, to save our wearied brothers' lives. I threat degrading, I threat cashiering to him who bursts from rank away." But vain and vainer his solicitings, vain his imperious mandates were. With leaping valour and courage ungoverned, again and again they sprang afore. CANTO XIV. 115 " Like horses reined and curbed ever with gripping bit," Sir Oliver cried, " Yet fuming till ye've thrown your master — thus will ye be, and in the fall Fell, fell disgrace and foul perdition upon yourselves ye too will bring." Then did the baron, Guy of Roussillon, jump with a shout to the midst of the foes. And others followed — alike a tumbling wall they broke, and poured at his back. And chief among them were Duke Samson and Duke Astor, with tossing plumes. Of whom the former struck down three Saracens, or ever the eye could see his sword. But stumbling in the bloody grass, while as at a fourth he made him on. He tript and fell ; and straight a gigantic Saracen came upon him fast, And struck him with his scimitar dead. Meanwhile Berlinghieri closed with the giant. And wrestling fiercely would have thrown him, had not a swarm of Saracens rushed And hacked him to pieces in an instant. At once came crowding to the scene Of this confusion Gaston and Gerard, Brian de Mercier, and Fulke of Rheims. An 'twere a second later, Duke Astor, who in the m61ee had stabbed the giant, Had shared the fate of Berlinghieri, for twenty swords were glittering round, When into the scuffle broke the others — tremendous confusion, and fighting dire ! Now came the shout along the lines down from the veterans on the left, " Haste ! haste to rank ! They charge ! The army is on the move to charge in force." Then out rushed Oliver, and seizing Gaston and Gerard fiercely by the arm He swung them round to the Prankish ranks. Then Guy of Roussillon he seized, and Fulke, And roughly pushed them thither. Then making his blade to wheel in a circle round, He broke through the foemen around Duke Astor, and gave him outlet to the lines. Then to the rest, some six, in desperate peril between the closing hosts, Pent in a band of Saracens — through these he broke, and gave them liberty. Now of the crew of Prankish barons were all unslain in safety placed. Then moved he backwards before the advancing host, and into the press he backed. Next instant the Saracens charged. As when the sea comes roaring against the stream Of emptying river, rebellowing booms it, and jutty crags and shingly shores Awake to re-echo the uproar. On rushes it up the estuary, and meets The stemming current of the river — tremendous wrestle of waters, which Shall have the mastery ! Down to the bottom profoundest and up to the' very top. The brine and freshets struggle, with roar of watery thunder. The river blocked In useless volume, crystal-still, all up its course is : but the wave, Tidal and intermittent, suddenly gives. Down pours the triumphant stream, Right into, as if in very mockery, the breast enormous of the sea. So did the Pranks sudden, astounded, find the Saracen army give, And sweep from them away in surges retreating, and broken waves of men. Amazfed were they all, since effort especial toward repulsing them None had they made; but doggedly standing, determined had held their own. Did they but know the cause of the tumult — 'twas Roland attacking from behind : Which soon they knew, for mid the surges and wrecks of regiments in retreat. They saw him riding, great and glorious, up to their lines. And thus he cried : " Pight on, my soldiers, pight on, ye gallant hearts. Soon will the hour of safety come." ii6 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. CANTO XV. Then came he up and stood amidst them, upon his mighty charger high, .And thus he harangued them : " Full well have ye battled, since undiminished ranks around, Scarce thinned by a score, I witness, despite some good half hour or more's Impetuous efforts by the enemy. Terrible battle hath broke against. That weet I well, your brave assemblage ; but ye, in penthouse firm of shields. Holding together in strict obedience, shoulder to shoulder, and man to man, Have bravely it rebuffed. Well, marry, may I most easily divine That some brave spirits, in their ardour unquenchable, and the joy of war — brave delight of royal natures, who can resist thy calls alway ? — Unrecollecting dull discretion, and carried by leaping zeal away, Have burst the ranks, and sought the foeman in grappling foray amid his hosts, Since on the grass around me lying I see some well known faces here. Yet will I ne'er one jot reproach them, since none of us from hour to hour May tell how far the zeal of battle may carry him beyond his mind. But this I counsel ye, and would have ye e'en tell it to your own dear breasts, It is not courage Roland challengeth ; it is discretion that he craves. Why, think ye not, my bonny fellows, that I and you so well acquaint. In battle after battle together placed, and observed side by side — Is 't bravery that you want to show me ? Faugh ! That's a point between us both Unquestioned. Who braver than ye, come tell me, have I upon this broad earth known? Nay ! hear me say it — that such the confidence, with which doth Christendom cry ye up, That if ye turned your'backs, and basely ran, with multitudes gazing on. The crazed spectators would rather disbelieve their ocular evidence than your shame. That being so, cannot ye well afford to say to courage thus : 'Brother, a truce to thee awhile ! I have no need of thee. But instead 1 take a certain homely posture-master, named discretion, to my arms.' This do, and reap the certain fruits o' it — save your brothers, and yourselves. For safety comes; 'tis on its way. It comes, it speeds, it posts along. Faster, nay ! faster than the panting breaths in the worry of the fight. So pant the horses of the Emperor, answering the summons of my horn. Aye ! and they'll come too. In a little while, in nick of time, you'll see Spears glittering o'er the frowning mountain-tops; your ears, deafened with fight, Will hear the sweetest music of trumpets braying and brothers' clashing arms. Wherefore, for such a glorious consummation hold ye stoutly on. Each life's a kingdom. Throw it not away. And, once more, solidly Unite yourselves in serried press, never to be unlocked again. They among you who are stubborn at standing — and most of you are, I know — Plant foot on earth, and show your fierier brothers, by example rare. How stakes can stand, and yet be rosewood, how pillars stick, that yet are gold. And ye among you of unshackled disposition, and temper free. Obey the biddings of your leaders, or fear their just displeasure else." Thus spoke he, and they, already well compacted, in press compacter still Dovetailed and locked their ranks. He talking with others and Oliver on the right CANTO XV. 117 Thus said, " Itgrieveth me right sorely to see Duke Samson lying there. How came it all? And Berlinghieri, gallant knight of Italy, I marked him too; and others not a few." Then. they recount to him Of that foul break away, such perilous consequence which was like to have. Thus passed he among them. And thus to Turpin, the bold archbishop, did he say, " Thy wound, archbishop, hath deprived us of most redoubtable aid to-day. Was 't not at Malagigi's side thou got it ? " And thus the bishop replied : " Aye ! when he fell, like a colossus, I before him throwing my shield Bestrode my fallen friend ; and the minutes wherein did ebb his life away, I kept them calm and tranquil, though legions were hurtling fiercely us before. An on his mother's lap the gallant hero had laid his dying head, No pillow softer, more unmolested, than mother earth's broad breast, with me. Desperate, to guard him, could he yearn for. An to defend a friend in fight, Till his white face be still, and his spirit hath soared to heaven on angels' wings, — An this be shrift, an this be pious closing of eyes, and holy dues : Then have I done my office, and sacrament royal have I given him. 'Twas then, when glorious Malagigi had sighed and given up the ghost. That I, ray duty done, waxed wanton, and struck the swarming foes amain. My arm, e'en tired to death with wielding a ponderous mace since four this morn. Not quick enough to guard a caitiff's thrust, received this wound thou seest." And thus spoke Roland to Duke Gaifier : " How comes it, Duke, that thou the charge Of rashness hast annexed thee? Why, man, it is as bad as cowardice now, The name of hot-head. Ne'er, in verity, could I think that brave Sir Beuve, Whom thou succeedest as barons' captain, would even in his martiallest hour Have thus forgot himself." Then sorrowful answered to him Duke Gaifier \ " With sore chagrin, with pricked conscience, do I, whose laurels have been hung But on the tree of duty — nowhither but there, all my life through, have I Aspired to gather them — with sore compunction do I hear these words of thine. Excuse for ardour in this enjoined and strait commanded stand, is none. Excuseless I am. But afterward, gallant Sir Roland, an e'en Bellona herself Did hound me on with jibe and scoffing — -No ! To the rest I'll pattern be." Then Roland spoke to Duke Ast6r, to Brian de Mercier, Fulke, and Guy Of Roussillon, and others many, in reprehension or advice. Then turned he away, and spake to Oliver, ere that he passed to the enemy's lines. Meanwhile the Saracens through the valley, with spirits rising ever high, In fancy already were basely triumphant over the tired and weary Franks. And thus cried the Caliph to his glittering staff of officers, him around : " Nought need we do, it seemeth, gentlemen, than move up army one by one Till to the uttermost man we annihilate every one of the caitiff" crew. Curses upon this foul constriction, that strangleth our squadrons and battailles ! Else had we long ago with circumferent host have harried them to hell. Curses on their judicious generalship, which backs their carcasses with rock. Or rugged ground, where never a jennet or even a footman can keep his feet. Curses on one and curses on all of them, and most on Roland himself of all ! May I to-day behold him dragged to fell perdition and shameful death ! Nought need we do, nought can we do, than constant move the soldiers up. And he who loiters, soldier or captain, (as many a loitering knave I see With blenching face and tight set teeth advancing against these damnfed Franks,) ii8 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. With this, my scimitar, in pieces I'll hack him, and strike his companion poltroons with fear. Meanwhile do I go, I and my body-guards, and scour the skirts of the sweltering press; To cut off stragglers, to daringly decimate little by little the Prankish flanks. Be this my duty. And ye, my subordinates, move, as required, the regiments up. And as for the rest of the Saracen levies, inactive, expectant, that fill the plain. Why, set them the goose-step to keep them moving, or bid them scour their armour bright." Thus spake he laughing, and signalled his body-guard, who to his signal responsive careered, Gorgeously garbfed in armour that dazzled the eye of the onlooker e'en to behold. Their bucklers were thickly encrusted with jewels, and powdered with crescents of gold and with suns. Their helms were surmounted with sheafs of pure silver, that shook with metallical crushing of sound. All seated were they upon beautiful horses, white, white as the milk, of Arabian breed. And he at their head, with his diadem cinctured, led off at a gallop the gay cavalcade. And thus cried Oliver unto Roland : " Seest thou, Roland, that troop of horse ? Like a white wave of foam it encompasses all around us with jeopardy. Such is the strait, that if one of the men be an instant a straggler, straight is he lost." And thus cried Roland: "These whom thou seest, they are the Caliph's body-guard. I met them an hour ago in the battle. Brave, brave, and gorgeous, their array. Yet not in all their bright five hundred beats there a heart like scores in ours." .^nd thus from the Saracen leaders observing the tactics whereat the caliph played. Thus cried Malcus, King of Africa, — the second in command was he. And now, by virtue of the adventurous absence of his liege and lord. He stood commanding the vasty Saracen host, its generalissimo — Thus stood he all amidst his glittering staff of officers him around. And thus he cried, " What think ye, gentlemen ? Our master doth take good care of himself. To cut off stragglers ! to eat the refuse and bones, which we do leave of the feast ! Heroic duty ! Full little danger will such assailaunce bring to him. While we at head of charging squadrons must perish pitiful in our gore. No, no ! Believe me, his Spanish Majesty is not remarkable, nor has been. For great display of manly spirit, except in cursing subalterns. I wager, now, the swarthy brigades, which at this instant the Sultan of Fez Is pouring against the Prankish lines, have in their little fingers all More spirit than he and all his coquettish, gay battalion from helm to boot. I. for my part, by virtue of office now holding the choice of courses here. Shall neither rush to sudden danger, though ready to meet it when time may come; Nor shall I make, still less, a blustering show of doing, and doing nought. My gallant Africans, a useful army, full well I know, and mighty fit P'or dealing strokes at perilous crises, shall I hold in apt reserve. Ready to launch them at point of danger, belike or rescue, late in the day. Who knows amid the fleet vicissitudes that the weathercock of fight Turns round amid a battle's blowing, what changes may hap, what calls may come ? Belike — so shifting traitress Fortune — that we, the assailants, may pass to be Th' assailed, that we, the present conquerors, may with the vanquished throw in our lot. But let's not think so of 't. And now, ye gentlemen, bestow yourselves. A margin wide of choice I give ye, since gallanter none may Araby boast. To hold your armies, or seek in adventurous foray alone the Prankish band." And thus to him his son, Malcuidant, heir unto his broad domains. CANTO XV. 119 Yet but of slavish offspring. His mother, a lovely Georgian slave, Zelmira, had Malcus first as concubine, then as wife — such influence Had she by wit and beauty over him — public espoused, and named her boy. Despite contention, heir to Africa. He now, in foppish loveliness, His vest all stiff with glittering gold, and peacocks' plumes his helm upon, Himself with white and lovely countenance as beautiful as day, thus spoke : " I, then, will try in foray adventurous my hand against these Prankish men. Not scouring their skirts, but plunging into them, some pearl of honour back to bring. In gay array I tempt the battle. I only would them worthier foes. Yet doughty champions are there, father, among them, if all thy tales be true, Though battered and worn the weary fellows be with perpetualness of fight." Then cried the Prince of Cappadocia, throwing before him, as he spoke, A shield enormous, a huge rotundity, full like the moon, and on its face Heraldic arms emblazoned : " I also will seek in deadly parle these men. And seek them scathless. Behind this vasty orb, a world, which mine hath come At last to be, from generation to generation handed down Of Asian kings, as priceless heirloom to those who wore the royal crown- Behind this fence of vasty adamant, none need I fear, nor swords, nor darts. Nor force, nor foemen. Amid an army, screened and ensconced, I stalk secure." And thus did cry the Sultan of Carthage : " I the other way do turn. To marshal my army that most convenient I may work it to the front. Soon the occasion may crave its services, though swelling hosts do lie between. I know these Franks. Too much despised are they by one and all of ye. Ye vaunt, ye princes, ye prate, ye captains, of gay adventure and light assault. As if 'twere raw Algerian levies ye had to deal with, instead of men. Whom I before now, both at Toledo and at the siege of Pampelune, Saw facing fearful odds, and laying their lives in bushels in the breach. Too much despised by one and all of ye are they ; but are not so by me. Although my army lies at the deepest back of the valley, and there at once I go to muster it, yet do I know not, before I reach there, it may be called." And thus exclaimed together laughing, the Kings of Aleppo and Seville, In humour joining the King of Granada, and the tall King of Ascalon : " Faugh I Faugh ! What cautious coy commander ! An ere thy hosts are called up. It will be starlight — the battle over, and Roland dead or bound in chains. Go thou and marshal levies, tactician. For us, we choose a lighter work. We go to set the goose-step. Sultan, and bid the men scour up their arms." And thus did say the crafty Blancandrin, for he had thither come als6. Coming along with the Caliph his master unto the vale of Roncesvay, " And I on duty as light do hie me. For at the bottom of the plain. Fast by the rocks that guard the entrance, as well ye weet, the Grand Signior, On visit coming to my master, met on his way with news of war. Though first inclined there to tarry at Saragosse, persuaded was By me and others here to journey, to witness the immolation of This Christian calf, this cursed Roland, whom at his feet we mean to slay. With sheiks and train of princely dervishes, bedizened in velvet mantles fair. The garb of peace, unwarlike spectator only, hath he come to view. Him shall I seek, to take him tidings of how the sacrifice proceeds." Thus were the Saracens in the valley dispersing in comport light and gay, 120 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Boastful and confident, powerful and arrogant. Meanwhile had Roland left the press. To roam at large as erst he stalkfed alone among the teeming field. As one who entereth in a flower garden — his own — where access plentiful At any time he taketh, privileged by right of mastery to pluck What flowers he pleaseth, and rifle, remorseless, of their sweets the scented beds. About he walketh at ease ; and suffering fancy to guide his ruthless hand, Now pinks, now gillyflowers, now carnations and blushing roses of life relieves. So Roland, roaming at ease, the Saracen host of its gay and fairest chiefs Rifled remorseless ; the King of Cyprus, the King of Servailia, the Prince of Val, The Prince of Morocco, the Prince of Valentia, all leaders these of gay levies, Themselves the gayest, the Prince of Palestine, the lovely Prince Alphaieu, Whose locks were twined with threads of silver, his sunny curling ringlets round, Prince Climorin of Saragossa, the Caliph's nephew; the Prince of PiCi, Faldron, by name, the fairest warrior in Guadalquivir's valley broad, Prince Escabali of Albuera, all leaders of levies gay, themselves The gayest, as hither and thither he roamed, remorseless he riHed the host of. King Bedreddin Ali of Valladolid, that washes the Douro's silver stream. Did meet his foray, and fall before him ; King Magadin of gay Madrid, The vizier Mandoun, the emir Douban, best, best of the Spanish Caliph's braves, Othman, the chief of hardy Bedouins, likewise those pair of champions, Omar and Agib, herculean brothers, chief of the Caliph's halberdiers, Whose cottage perched on the snows of Lebanon had nursed their hardy infancy. Here had the twain, boys, clomb the mountains, run, wrestled, thrown the brawny bar. Laying in store of strength robustest, until as herdsmen their fame had spread Through all the flats below, and to soldiery rich and royal they passed from home ; And oft enlisting under princes, as hope of rise and fortune moved. At last by largess rare were drafted into the Caliph's halberdiers. They fell before him. And likewise Ibrahim, the giant captain of the guards, The guards of green, not those of purple — which were his royal body-guards — But those of green, whom valour proven had raised from privates into knights. He fell before him. And likewise Moussoul, the second in command was he. And many a gallant guard of green, when he did burst into their ranks. Few, few were they — few, few in numbers — e'en scarce were they a score in all; Yet each a hero. They fell before him, a many a gallant guard of green. And next did Okar fall before him, and Ali Becar, and King Saleeh, Lord, lord of all the mines of rubies between the Minho and the Dour. Whose helm alone was worth a kingdom, — so thick bespangled and bestuck With gems, both amethysts and rubies, it glittered rainbow-like in air. The cone, a knob of purest chrysolite, lit up with milky light the rest. Translucent crystal ! The coif with garnets was dabbed, in wilful lavishn^ss. As when a man enter'th a garden of flowers — his own — where privileged. At any time he please, to ramble by right of mastery, and pluck What flowers he chooseth : he rifles, remorseless, of their sweets the scented beds. Now pinks, now gillyflowers, now carnations and blushing roses of life relieves; So Roland stalked about the Saracen host, and rifled it of chiefs. And thus the caliph, as the intelligence a-reached his ear of fall and fall, As with his band of glitttering body-guards he circumvented fast the press, Thus, thus he spoke : " Instead of conquering, we here have come to be destroyed. CANTO XV. 121 Each minute is my ear assailfed with ever fresher news of fall. Where are the troops of Cappadocia, where are the levies brave of Val, — Our crack battalions? Marshal them hither, and choke at least these caitiff slaves. Lest soon from out their populous phalanx may each a Roland issue forth. For him — he triumphs in our ruin. Vain, vain our efforts him to foil. For him — let him at large, at liberty, to riot as he lists i' th' field. Seek not to combat the resistless. Be all my men there, massacred sheep. But here — to throttle and annihilate, here, here supreme we have the power.'' Thus spake he, hoarsely summoning up anew the levies ; and he alike A lion ravening, heading his body-guard, swept fiercely round and round the press. And thus cried Oliver from the centre in shouts stentorian to the men, " See ye the Caliph's troop of cavalry ? Like a white wave of surging foam. It sweeps around us, and surely encompasses all within with jeopardy. Such is the strait, that if e'en for an instant ye, one, be a straggler, straight are ye lost." Up now came swarming the Cappadocians, and with them the levies brave of Val, And, marshalled in multitude, charged. As when the sea comes roaring against the stream Of rain-fed river, rebellowing booms it, and jutty crags and shingly shores Awake to re-echo the uproar. On rushes it up the estuary, and meets The stemming current of the river — tremendous wrestle of waters, which Shall have the mastery ! Down to the bottom profoundest and up to the very top, The brine and freshets struggle, with roar of watery thunder. Then, as it were. Breathing a moment, the ocean, and heaving a mighty disappointed sob, Back, back it comes, and roars against the river. Again and again with new Volumes of water and billows auxiliar, it roars, it wrestles, it writhes, it sighs. And thus cried one of the Frankish veterans to his neighbour at his hand : " Sore, sore the effort the shock to shatter. Each time the fiercer doth it come. When, when will come the hour of welcome, that late our leader promised of. When glittering spears above the mountains, and trumpets braying in our ears. Tell us — oh ! joy — that sure salvation has come to us poor weary men ? Say, Jacques, — thy eyes are sharper, haply, and younger too they are than mine- Canst thou discern aught like a spearhead above the distant mountain tops ? And can thy keener ears catch anything alike a far off trumpet sound ? " " How can I hear aught in this battering din ? " his comrade cried. " And as To craning my neck and spying round me towards the distant mountain tops. Sure as I turned it, some damned caitiff would stick his rapier in my throat. Here's one withouten looking round for it. God aid my thrust ! There's tit for tat.'' And thus some weary Frankish veterans, fighting a-further down the lines. Were one to other saying : " With fearfuller force our foes each moment fight. The battle 's hot ; the battle 's deadly. Scarce e'er do we belike before Remember combat worsen Around us enveloping hordes in swarms essay. Pikes poke, spears thrust, swords slash, shields shove — an we one foot beyond the ranks Move but an instant, down we're struck. Did ever man so sore melee E'er know, e'er guess, e'er dream, e'er feign, as this in Roncesvally's vale? Sore may we wish it all were o'er, and we with rescue comforted. Did not our leader straitly promise us, when he harangued a. while ago. That in.some hours, he said, at furthest the rescue that we need would come? And now an hour or two have passed, and rescue far as 'twas before." " Hush ! hush ! " thus crifed others with them, "say not a word against our chief R THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Think ye, that he doth not desire it, aye! more than we ourselves, for us? How can he help the tardy journey of the Emperor's cavalry ? Bad roads belike delay their paces beyond his calculati6n." " Bad roads or no bad roads," a veteran wistfully cri^d from the back, "As sure as God 's in heaven above, I see a spearhead on the hill. It 's moving-, brothers. It must be something. The Captain 's right. It must be them." " Damn thee, thou eel ! " cried Roger Collart, " to give these false alarms of joy. It is a bush the silly ninny has flat mistaken for a spear. If thou canst find thee nothing better to do than star-gaze at the back. Albeit now upon the sick list and one of those unfit for fight, Come to the front and star-gaze ; and tell us which of these raining blows comes first. No, no ! I know the roads from thither better than one and all of ye. Bad, good, or indifferent, 'tis impossible that the Emperor here be yet. The captain in his speech said, ' Five hours.' And I say six or seven, I do." And thus the Caliph to his officers, in fierce command, did call aloud, " Are there no regiments in my levies more adequate to hack these knaves At quicker rate than these are doing ? 'Sblood ! it doth take an hour a man. Bring up the niulattoes of Morocco, and pour them on the saucy square. Their swarthy sinews and lusty newness will give the rascals work to do. They with their gallant prince will charge, the brave Belhammid, at their head. That is, if — curses ! — he hath scaped the ravening monster on the plain. Whom may Mahomet and his angels confound to hell for evermore ! Such fell destruction, pernicious ruin of peerless leaders slavish slain, Of troops bereft of gay commanders such news each minute do I hear ! Yet he resistless and invincible ! that all my hosts before him lie A prey, his quarry, where he chooseth to lay his fell devouring hand. Did ever Satan from his hell-pit e'er vomit up so vile a plague, That stalks abroad among battalions, and decimates insufif'rable : That stalks among my gay battalions, and rids them of their brightest braves. Chiefs, captains, leaders, of the fairest blood, race, repute in Araby, Ruthless, remorseless, ravening, raging, — yet not a hand to stay his course." As when a man amid a flower garden, where hastily he means' to pull The best and fairest of its treasures, ransacks remorselessly the beds. Bruising the stalks, and in his hurry trampling on sighing, scented sweets ; Wantonly, carelessly destroying the careful toil of gardeners : So Roland moved about the Saracen host, and robbed it of its best. Thus robbed he it of Esprevera, the lord of Liria by the sea, Whose gallant ships did sail to Tarsus, laden with priceless merchandise ; And eke of Schahzaman the stalwart, the gladiator of the host, Who from the towered Tarragona had brought his brawny braves to war. And eke of Eber, eke of Ackdeen, eke of the great King Marzavan, Than whom no richer lord of treasure stood in the teeming field that day. Face to face with Roland, Marzavan sprang from his horse and fell on his knee. Crying, " Great captain, mighty warrior, so irresistible and so fell. Ne'er can I thee compete in prowess, nor need I lift my feeble sword. Quarter, quarter I humbly beg thee. I yield myself thy prisoner. Hereafter do I promise ransom so priceless for my liberty. Such heaps of ingots, wrung remorseless from toiling tillers of the soil, CANTO XV. 123 Such mighty meed of measured money, and long amassfed store of gain. That to compute it would glut with envy the richest prince in Christendom." Gloomily glared upon him in wrath the royal Roland, and thus replied : "Chaffering merchant, cease thy arithmetic. The gold that glitters in thy hoards Shall others count, and spendthrift dissipate the fruit of years of avarice. 'Tis thine no longer. Yea, from the moment when first thou enter6dst the vale. The coins dropt clinking through thy fingers ; thy ledgers blotted were, and rased," Thus saying he laid him dead. Then movfed he fiercely forward amid the fray. Coming unwittingly to the station where streamed the standard of the host. Green, forked green, it waved, and on it its text of Koran, gold emblazed. Forthwith he made for it. Then through the gallant Saracens round, arose there cries Of pain and anguish. " This to be taken ! Along with rarest dead on the plain. This to be captured, our host's palladium, Mahomet's ensign of his power ! " Then fenced they fiercely round it. But Roland, ploughing athrough them, seized the pole. And snapt it, and trampled beneath his mailed boot the banner of their creed. And thus he cried : " E'en as I trample your infidel symbol, Saracens, So will I trample your best and noblest, your holiest and highest, down this day." Then struck he on amain, and forcing through carnage deadly his withering way Passed here and there among them at fancy. And now nigh th' bottom of the vale, Came to the place, where, mid his princely dervishes round, the Grand Signior, The Sheik of Islam, unwarlike spectator, sat neath a dais to view the fight. Garbed were he and all in mantles of crimson velvet and cloth of gold. And thus cried Roland : " Priestly mummer, what helps thy peaceful presence here? Is 't sooth to mumble out incantations, to spirit the soldiers' souls with spells. That they in this unholy harry should deeper stain their swords with shame. Since well I know your superstitions, silly, fond, vain, and infidel ? Unworthy errand I Was it not better that thou hadst stayed within thy shrine, And lowly prayed the god thou worshippest to turn away his eyes divine From such a spectacle? Thinkest thou, miscreant, that beings heavenly delight In deeds of treason ? Nay ! An I Christian speak your catechism correct. Ne'er such a letter blots its pages ; or if it does, degrades your god. He, false appearance of the real, yet in his fallen beauty bright. Wits not such casuistry. Pay him homage, but make his name not cloak for sin. Here hath he sent thee — mark my reading and hermeneutics of your text — Here hath he sent thee, not to triumph, but to meet condign punishment For wicked sophistry, that sought to render his glory partner to your guilt. Die, miscreant ! and in thee Mahomet be cursed, who mocks the Lord of Hosts ! " Therewith he slew him, and the dervishes, a feeble crowd, dispersed sheer. Now was he coming from their neighbourhood, when hard before him on the right He saw a man amid the multitude endeavouring to escape his eyes. As when one man doth see another in a crowd, by whom he fain Would not be seen by, and endeavoureth his observation to escape. Once turned the man his face, and instant Roland recognised him as Blancandrin— 'twas he, the traitor Blancandrin, who brought the gifts to Charlemagne. Roland up-spurred at once, as wishing so bad a knave not free to go : Who staggering timidly from his stirrups— the crafty knave—, upon his knees Fell, muttering pitiful explanations, wherein did Roland detect the words Of ' Ganelon,' ' Cordova,' ' broken promises,' ' love for the Franks,' ' fidelity.' 124 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. At last his mumblings found tongue, and thus he spoke : " Sir Ganelon — It was Sir Ganelon plotted the treachery. I innocent — innocent am of all. This heart is white— these hands thou seest, not, not one drop of blood to-day Have they been bathed in. By compulsion, unwilling was I brought to here. It was my master plotted the treachery. He in his palace of Saragosse Leagued with counsellors vile, and plotted the treachery ere I came to you. I was their tool, unwilling instrument, chosen because I joved the Franks And therefore might be a. persona grata., to carry the gifts and treat of terms. Brimful of treachery had they filled me, had 1 but listened to their words; But I departed with hands as clean, and back returned from Charlemagne With hands as clean and pure of treachery, as these of prankish blood this day. It was Sir Ganelon plotted the treachery ; he and my master, from Charlemagne— They hatched the conspiracy under an olive-tree, as they were coming together back. I am innocent, innocent, innocent. Credit me, ne'er a wile was mine." Stonily staring upon him in stern regard, the royal Roland replied : " Miscreant ! thy account so plausible, didst thou but know it, disagrees In every letter, e'en in the telling of 't. What would examination say? Here stand I, face with thee, Blancandrin, not to parley, or bandy words. But thee to put to death, incontinent. Therefore prepare at once to die." Then shrieked aloud the gibbering traitor, dragging at Roland's stirrup-irons : " Great captain renowned, sure, surely thy sabre with blood so ignoble wilt not defile. I spring from the lowest and meanest of Saracens ; grooms and mechanics my lineage were. I rose as the supple poor tool of my master, the Caliph, to high advancement, I ; Who every occasion hath made me his stalking-horse ; often before now transferring the blame From his cursed shoulders to my poor flinching ones. Thus hath he done at present too. I'm not the traitor. 'Tis he. In the orchard did he and Sir Ganelon plot the scheme. Thou wert present," he shrieked, as the glittering blade of Roland made to descend. " Nay ! 'twas a lie — 'twas I was present in the orchard with Charlemagne, And plotted with the caliph, my master, that scheme — I know not what I say. Forbear that glittering blade ! Sweet swordsman, — see, let me take it in my hand — " Thus spoke he, imbecile in his terror — "dear pretty plaything, harm me not — " Drawing across the cutting glittering blade his bloody fingers. " 'Tis sharp. But 'twill not harm me — my head: — ray body — my brain — my flesh so sleek," he cried. " Stutterer, forbear ! " so crying Roland struck him dead upon the earth. Back rolled Blancandrin, tumbling heavily over, a lump of dusty corpse. Now moved he ever fiercer forward, alike a lion ravening. Stalking tremendous in appearance athrough the seething Saracen host. Thus stalked he about; and in his neighbourhood did it hap now in the plain The kings of Sicily and of Seville, and the tall king of Ascalon, Likewise with them the king of Aleppo, and too the king of Granada, Five kings in all — a merry troop — in merriment ambled all along. Coming from the king of Africa, who, to the Caliph next in command. Had given to his staff of leaders leave to dispose them as they list. And thus did cry the king of Aleppo laughing, " My lords, these caitiff knaves We've caught them rarely. Could e'er have wished we a better bout for our battailles 1 Unbreathed, expectant, armed with courage, they march and countermarch, prepared At any moment to pour their portly volumes upon the Frankish band ; Whom God confound, and eke Mahomet and his angels for evermore ! " CANTO XV. 125 And thus did say the king of Sicily, " Fortune hath smiled this fytte on us. And frowned on those, whom oft aforetime we have, dismayed, bowed to. For what is fight but fortune? The brave man many a time must bend his knee. Till comes a day alike the present when he may vaunt a victory." Thus spoke he radiant. And in turn cried the tall king of Ascalon, With many a crease and wreathed wrinkle of satisfaction on his cheek : " 'Troth, and it makes me smile to think on 't, how by a tiny turn of tongue. Saying ' No' for 'Yes,' and ' Peace' for ' War,' we've brought this work about their ears. Tongues fight the battles, gentlemen, nowadays ; in council chambers are they won Or lost — that is, if silly tattlers make up their minds to speak the truth. Tongues, tight in truth, defeat do purchase; tongues loose in lies, the victory. O rare Arabia, that thus can vanquish with righteous artifice thy foes ! " And thus the king of Aleppo, laughing, and holding both his sides, did cry : " O rare Arabia, that thus can vanquish with righteous artifice thy foes ! Since now the artifice, since now the righteousness so irresistible we know, Oft will we practise it in other combatries, and other vanquishment achieve With other artifice and other righteousness, no less effectual than this." Thus rode they, careless, laughing, a merry troop among the multitude, — Thus rode they careless laughing, when suddenly who should burst amid them all But Roland ? As should a royal lion come up with a herd of stately stags, Sporting together in a clearing of a thickset forest wood : They with sleek coats and branching antlers make to escape on every side ; But yet not easily can they fly, because of the thickly trellised Entwining boughs about them. In consternation terrible, must they stand At bay, and make the best o' it, hoping that one or two of them at least Will satiate his appetite. He voracious makes at them, one after one. Bounding on them. So did Roland spring to slay king after king. And first at the tall king of Ascalon his ghttering sword made play. And 'twas Like the lightning-flash blasting the oak. Down the tree the glittering fork Runs ripping : the timber crackles : and, scorched, the monarch of the grove lies prone. Then at the king of Sicily made he, and swept him down before him. Then The king of Aleppo, the king of Seville, and the king of Granada. A troop of kings ! — and crowns were rolling at his feet. As should the wind, Blowing an apple-tree, send a shower of apples to the ground : so crowns Rolled at the feet of Roland. He onward in fiercer fojay forced his way. Raging impetuous. And thus the caliph, as the intelligence of these And fresh disaster on disaster his ears a-reachfed from the plain. Thus, thus he cried : " Instead of conquering, we here have come to be destroyed. The vaunted victory, our own an hour ago, breaks at the pinch its promises. Instead of triumph, instead of conquering, we here have come to be destroyed. The tables are turned. The Christians triumph, and Islam slanteth to its fall." As when a man amid a flower garden, where hastily he means to pull The best and fairest of its treasures, ransacks remorselessly the beds. Bruising the stalks, and in his hurry trampling on sighing, scented sweets ; Wantonly, carelessly destroying the careful toil of gardeners : So Roland moved about the Saracen host, amd robbed it of its best. Now had he come anigh the neighbourhood e'en of the square of his own brave men. 126 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And there he markfed a champion illustrious, the Prince of Cappadocia, Who arraM with a shield enormous, a huge rotundity, full like the moon, Fenced by this vasty adamant, neither spears, nor swords, nor darts he feared, And all the afternoon rare havoc had worked in the left of the Prankish lines. Roland rode up to him at once. The Prince espied his approach. And, throwing before him his enormous shield, stood. Roland, arrived. Saw not a sign of man before him, but only the shield, — gigantic round ! A masterpiece of martial armoury, strong and immense ; and on its front Heraldic arms emblazoned. Chessboarded 'twas with chevrons and with bends And chiefs eternal, a multiplicity of petty fields aggrouped within The great one, and with masterly marshalment so arrayed as to express In mystic blaze the universe. Its mighty base itself, of adamant. Mimicked the firm-set earth ; all nature in quarterings quaint was blazed thereon. First, in the centre of the shield — the symbol of the sun — a boss Of lemon-coloured sapphire. Maeandering round the rim in mystic stream To represent the sea, a border of verdurous emerald engrailed. Then the compartments — on each its symbol, the things of nature to express. For fishes, a barbel naiant ; for animals of the land, an antelope Couched on a chevron vert; for the vegetable kingdom, a rare array Of trefoils stood, seamy and powdered thick in a quartering green, of the field. For minerals, a difference barry-bendy, set out in rubies and chrysolite. For birds of air, an orle of martlets the symbol were,— their tincture, or — Each on a petty bar of azure, richly diapered with gold. For War, two emblems. Within an argent silver field, two lions gules, Demi-rampant, combattant, each holding in his paws a spear. And for The second emblem, blazoned in lozenges, a coat of quaint barbaric arms. For Peace, in an azure field a golden wheatsheaf garbed. With many more Such things too long to reckon, or worth the while to tell. A chessboard 'twas Of every tincture and device in heraldry — compartments gay. Checks, patterns, particoloured, rainbow-like, imbued. And over all Spread out in vast expanse, a Cockatrice, with comb and wattles bloody red. With coat of green-black feathers, and swingeing, scaly, writhing dragon's tail : So cunningly enamelled, that every moment in the glancing sun. Now sooth as if alone it beetled bullying there, all other sight But this dread beast were lost ; now in another sunlight, as if washed in With some transparent varnish only, almost invisible, it melted away, And then out flashed at once in all its tinctured checks and patterns gay Again the chessboard. Roland observed, with admiration wonder-struck. At last he spoke : " Portentous combatant, behind this world of beauty hid. Where every sight in teeming nature doth loom in semblance to my eyes, These moments of respite thou owest unto the cunning craftsmen's hands. That made this round of rare perfection, to wring e'en foes with ravishment. But so no more. Unhouse thee instant, to meet thy meed so merited For all the havoc and confusion this day thou'st wrought within my lines." Thus spoke he, Roland, to the shield-bearer. And thus a voice behind the shield Was heard replying, as when one heareth behind a wall belike or door An answering speaker, whose voice is only heard and not the speaker seen : " Not herald craftsmen's cunning only, who blazoned the work thy soul delights. CANTO XV. 127 But toil of armourers, robust and stalwart, who welded with adamant its wall — To these I owe, thou dog-, immunity. ' Moments of respite,' quotha ! But I For moments, for hours, for days defy thee ; scathless, secure, would still remain. This shield thou seest is an heirloom, from generations handed down. Wherewith my ancestors in battles foemen as fell as thou have foiled. Therefore refrain thy menaces meaningless. Betake thyself to other parts, Where men less warded await thy quarry, and less invulnerable than I." And thus cried Roland, " Insolent boaster ! Know'st thou who standeth before thee now? 'Tis I, Roland, whom work nor bastion, buttress nor'bulwark hath e'er repelled. When I, determined and resolved, put out my strength to gain my goal. Unhouse thee, instant ! or fear my displeasure in greater volume upon thy head, For thus procrastinating, and disobeying, with rash audacity, my straight commands. Unhouse thee, instant ! Obey a bidder, whom booteth not to disobey." And thus the voice returned answer : " Thee know I well, and e'en before Thy name thou toldest, well might I augur thy tramp portentous on the field. But not for thee nor fifty Rolands, my fort invulnerable will I Betray, entrusted to my custody by long experienced seneschals ; Who 'gainst attacks of fiery foemen, full fell and valorous as thou, Have proved its potency, tested its stalwartness, and argued its impregnableness. Away betake thee to other places, where men less warded await thy 'ssault, And leave alone for aye a foeman so full invulnerable as I." Thus cried the shield-bearer. But Roland no longer paltered before the shield, But high his glittering sword uplifting, and putting all his strength in the stroke, Cut it in half. The vast rotundity fell asunder, and showed the prince Blazing with jewels behind. As when in a pantomime's transformation scene, Some fabulous grot belike, or cavern, with artful shells disposed about, The shells do open, revealing fairies ; so opened the shield, and revealed the prince. And thus cried Roland, seeing him raise in desperate insolence his sword, " Put down thy sword ! It helps thee nothing. And thou defenceless too ! Why, with One blow could I cleave thee from head to foot. Down ! Put it down ! " The prince obeyed, And dropped the point. As when a lion-tamer biddeth a royal lion lie down By strength of voice and will, and maketh him ; so did Roland command the prince. " Now ! " cried he next, disdaining in verity e'en to touch so poor a foe, " Not with me shah thou combat, Saracen ; but with my men. Go over there ! " Thus cried he, pointing with his sword to the left of the veterans' lines hard by. " Go over there ! and dare the battle again thou erst hast triumphed in, Go, as I bid thee ! Go !— go !— go ! " Thus cried he ; and sulkily went the prince. Like as a lion-tamer in his spangled suit of sheen, amid a cage Of royal lions, doth make them sulkily leap o'er bars and jump through hoops. Unwilling athletes ! — so did Roland command, and so was he obeyed. The prince arrived among the veterans. They, like dogs springing upon A lion belike, or on a captured boar, sprang on him, pulling him down. Bravely he fought and well, but, being without his shield, they mastered him soon. Now not far beyond him, and somewhat toward the centre of the press, Roland espied, jump at the moment, another Saracen champion. Whose gay attire and lordly bearing did him attract most mightily. 'Twas young Malcuidant, the heir to Africa, the King of Africa's lovely son, Whose mother, the Georgian slave, Zelmira, had wit and beauty made a queen. 128 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Now was he standing in foppish loveliness, his helmet with peacocks' plumes bedecked, His vest all stiff with gold, his surcoat, that o'er his armour flowed, bright red. Thus was he standing; and Roland advancing, with much surprise and grief did see Upon the ground before him lying a Prankish knight but newly slain. He, plainly from his manner, vaunted unto the Franks his prowessy. As when a cock on dunghill standing, with comb and wattles bloody red. Doth flap its wings, and crow triumphant, for cause God only knoweth what ; With yellow eyes aglare at nothing, with throat distended, and beak agog : So stood Malcuidant in the battle, with vest of gold, and surcoat red. And plumed himself upon his prowess, before the eyes of all the press. Haranguing thus : " At last triumphant news can I my father send, The news of triumph o'er a champion, whose equal ne'er is in the field. Such doughty prowess, such stalwart roughness ! sure scarce could I believe my eyes When at the last I saw th§ brawny giant topple down in death. Samson, ye say, his mighty name is. And Samson, as the Koran tells, A man of might was and of mettle. A mightier than Samson, I. His exploits famous I have read of. But famouser than he am I, Who thus despatched have the monster of whom the world doth stand in awe." Thus crowed and flapped he o'er Count Samson, for such was the knight was lying slain. And thus cried some of the veterans, chafing, " Have at the saucy silly, do ! " But others cried, " Break not the ranks ! And there's the captain will tickle him." By this, was Roland at his side, immense. He turning up his eyes. Cried, "Scope for doughtier combat, and yet more valorous daring, I see in you. In size and stature more herculean than this same Samson whom I have slain. The greater renown thy fall will bring me. I here defy thee to single fray. See ! thus I fling my gage of battle. The conqueror of this Samson, I, Fresh from the triumph and flushed with victory, shall irresistible to thee be proved." Then Roland smote him moodily, saying, " Thou little boaster, lie thou there ! Were all thy fellows as offehceless, thy life and theirs had too been saved." Thus did he cry, and like a cataract turned on the Saracens, spreading abroad And rushing forward, sending remorseless in devastation hosts to doom. And thus the caliph, from his neighbourhood ever restlessly moving away. He and his body-guard, garbfed superbly, and speeding on milkwhite horses fair. Thus, thus he cried, " Instead of conquering, we here have come to be destroyed. Such wrecks and wrack of chosen levies, such fell destruction of bravest men ! We, who have hither come to conquer, now wait in turn to be destroyed. While he doth triumph in our ruin, invincible, charmed, unassailed. With fiercer ardour and recklesser effort to wreck his lines and break them through, This, this be mine — the only vengeance, that circumstance and fortune give." Thus cried he, summoning up again ever fresh forces from a host. Despite destruction, still enormous. And he himself a-with his troop. Like a white wave of foam encompassing swept round and round the populous press. Like seas roaring against rivers, on came the levies, and charged amain. CANTO XVI. 129 CANTO XVI. And now by virtue of oft repeated charges made, the populous press Waxed slowly smaller, and insensibly did impoverished appear. Yet knew the fighters no diminishment. So toughly, so tenaciously They held together ; and closed sullenly gap after gap in their ragged ranks — Fighting together cool and determined, nor budging an inch of their solid stand — That is, towards the right and the middle. For towards the left, by now the press Did sadly straggle ; and sooth 'twas seemingly from very nervousness than other cause. And from impoverished numbers. Unbastioned at back by crags to give them ease, And always fearing, though 'twas impossible, sudden and sly attack in the rear. Two fronts had they to guard, and th' extremity, round of which, by fortune kind, Ran, ridged and ringing, the selfsame rugged ground that to their rear vouchsafed Defences dubious. Thus, in anxiety guarding more than they need of ground. They straggled sadly ; in square arrayfed rather than serrifed battaille. So starved sometimes, that oft would a Saracen champion stalk him in and out Their ragged squads, committing havoc. 'Twas here that the Cappadocian Prince, Behind his shield gigantic moving, had wrought his prowessy fell, secure. 'Twas here — though further down to the middle, if truth be told (for a gallant was he,) — That young Malcuidant, heir to Africa, in foppish loveliness stood and defied The choice of Frankish foemen, and challenging one of their bravest had him a-slain. Thus was it on the left. But the middle, and past it, in front of the crags on the right — 'Twas still a very press. Here Oliver fought, and with him Duke Gaifier, Turpin, and other gallants, defending as best they might the weary men Stationed behind them. And thus the barons and veterans on the right did cry : " In fenced phalanx, and solid continuous firm brigade, we might defy All day and scathless the Saracen levies, did battered armour and broken blades Not make us hourly helplesser. Fighting at terrible odds we face the foe, Sith hacked shields give poor protection to breastplates dangling behind. And battered beavers, disfigured visors, make every feature on face a mark. Alike to scurvy tatterdemalions, who in a city's streets full oft Stand at the edge of the kerb-stone begging, exciting compassion and gaining alms By truly portentous display of tatters and rags — most chequered spectacles ! — So do we stand ; yet daring and doing such doughty deeds, that put to shame And make to pale the brilliant armour and lacklustre chivalry of our foes. So do we stand, and so till doomsday will we stand defensive here. Till body on body of bravest brothers lie heaped to our helmet-tops in front, And then, behind the rampart fighting, we'll man it while a man's alive." Thus cried th^ veterans and the barons fighting together on the right. And thus the veterans in the straggling lines on the left, whose captains were Old Roger Collart, the veterans' patriarch, and eke the baron, Duke Ast6r : " Sore, sore may we wish it all were over, and we with safety comforted. Right perilous is our here position, right dangerous our disordered lines. An could the fiery foe by a spirited charge but break athrough and through Our neck of union with the centre and right, surrounded and enclosed I30 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Woe, woe betide us ! Or if by circuitous route o'er rugged ground, that seems Safe to appearance indeed, yet certainly how can we know who ne'er ha't tried ? — If there an army new of miscreants, coupHng their charge with those in front. Came to assail us, or if on th' extremity taking us in flank traverse The Saracens swarmfed, neither our comrades nor yet Sir Oliver could avail." Thus cried, with downcast hearts and despondent, the Frankish veterans on the left. And thus cried Collart moving about them : " Neither my strict injunctions nor Threatenings of punishment seem to prevent ye from straggling like a lot of sheep. Only when charges unmistakeable come, do ye close for the nonce your ranks ; But straight is the foeman befoiled and bescattered, when out at once ye spread yourselves. Ever a-bearing ye leftward, and seeking, methinketh, to spread all over the vale ; And lots of ye craning your noddy-pate necks round, as if from the back there harm could come. Hang ye ! can horses a-prance over ridges that stick like the teeth of a comb from the ground ? Can footmen a footing make shift to preserve them on humps and on hillocks like those at the back? Fear ye not ! And 'tis the same at th' extremity. Never a speck of alarm is there there. So close your ranks closer — though vain is my telling ; as nervous as women ye seem to a-be. Here, draw back the bodies, and thank your Creator, that's all you can do, that the slain are not you. Three, three as brave fellows as e'er in the army. They never did straggle, but stuck to their posts. And down goes a pair more, cheek jowl by beside 'em. That's five in the dust, ere the tongue could count ten. What, beggared of breastplate ? Then button your braces the tighter, and see if your shirt's any good. I fought in my shirt for an hour at Toledo, and devil a scratch did I get all the while." And thus cried a veteran, " Old Roger Collart, you make of it light, and you treat it as fun. But, d — n me, if ever I've been in a battle, where batterfed arras were a part on 't, before. My breastplate is smiling so gaily around me, that e'er should an arrow come anywhere near. Right into a wrinkle it straight would be buried, as clean as a tin tack could go in its hole." "And I," cried another, "can beat you in smiling. For, sure as I say it, from four of the morn All day I've been laughingforcertain — how otherwise thus could ray sides bea-split and a-cracked ? I've laughed till I've burst ray proverbial sides with it. Every bit of my armour that 's there, Is rags and is tatters, is pieces and patches, in rickety remnants a-hanging around." And thus cried another, " Nay ! ye of your armour can boast, who have gotten it still on your back. But mine's at my feet. Only look ! 'Tis a tea-tray of crockery, sure, that some servant's upset— With a bit of a greave, and a bit of breastplate, a bit of a gorget, and bit of a helm. The shield is the teapot all smashed into pieces, whose handle and stump I still hold in my hand. As if I it grabbed, when the rest of the tea-things in fell dissolution all fell to the ground. What say ye to this ? And 'fore Gad, I believe me, or ever the battle is over to-day, As naked as Adam was ever in Paradise, so shall I, sinner, a-stand on the field." Thus spoke they. Alack ! but so hot was the battle, that jesting was bootless and courage was vain. And out of the three who a moment in mirth ago jested, were two lying dead on the plain. And thus to Duke Astor cried Collart, the veteran, who with him had the command of the left, Meeting him hard in the rear of the fallen companions who lay in their blood on the ground ; CANTO XVI. 131 " Sore, sore is the battle, and fast are they falling. Scarce one can break silence to boast he's alive. Than down is he struck by a dart or an arrow, or else by a sword of the smiters in front. Can nothing be done to allay the destruction ? Can we on the left not upcrowd to the crags. And seek in.compacter array a protection by swelling the ranks of oiir mates on the right? Can this not be done ? for be done must there something. Fast, fast are they falling." Duke Astor replied : '• Nay, nay 'tis impossible. Under the covert of crags are already too many by far. To swell and increase them to fatal dimensions would be but to offer our flanks to the foes. And fell decimation and wholesale destruction to us and our brothers too surely to bring. Here, here must we stand on our bravest behaviour ; and if there's a sacrifice craved for the band. Must we be the sacrifice, gallantly falling, and sparing confusion and woe to the right. Yet is there, methinketh, no need for us yet awhile sadly to talk of disaster and ill. If, if but the men would in closer formation resist like the rocks that an hour since they were. With ease might we baffle the bullying foeman, and hold till the Emperor came on the field. Ho ! ho ! my brave fellows,'' thus cried he advancing, as hard to behind them he paced up and down, " A little bit closer here, Martin and Theobald ; a little bit closer, good Henry Lagufere. Now, now, my companions, much need you to rally, and closely cement to the utmost your lines. For well can I see by the enemy's movements, a charge in full force will be on us anon. Much closer, brave Arthur — much closer, good Lambert. There, there as ye stand in trim serried array, — And wherefore not keep it alw^y, my companions? — thus, thus could we fight till the moon shone, secure. Now, now are ye ready? for they are, methinketh. With hearts irreproachable stand." As he spoke. Like seas against rivers, with roaring tremendous, on, on came the Saracens charging amain, All sparkling in glancing gay armour advancing, to soldiers' huzzaings and snorting of steeds. But soon as they charged, they were broken and baffled, for all their gay armour and gallant huzzas. Yet terrible gaps were discerned in the populous press on the left, when the foemen retired. And thus cried Theobald Grisard, " Where's Vincent Legauret? He stood at my side even now. Oh ! there is he down — and God bless him, poor fellow ! His gallant blood waters the grass at my feet." And thus crifed Nicolas Paccard, a veteran lusty and strong, who had breasted the shock. Unhurt and uninjured, but woefully stunned by crashings and hurtlings of harness in front, " So please the good God that in safety I scape me from this Roncesvally's engagement to-day, I'll hire a portcullis in future— aye ! will I— to plant it in front in another such fight. Such damnable shocks and such scurvy-like shakings I ne'er have experienced ever before. My ears are so deafened, my eyes are so dazfed, that seeing and hearing's a thing of the past." And thus did a baron exclaim to his neighbour, a veteran gallant who fought at his side : " Like seas they come roaring, and like them retreating. Companion, I've seen on the sands of Marseilles, When tides have retreated, the shingly surface all dotted with pools here and thither about. And so does it strike me, the foemen retreating leave pools of our bravest blood dotting the field." And thus did the baron, the Sieur de Chastellier, cry out to his neighbour, the Lord of Valence ; 132 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. " Thy silvery armour, my friend, with the tell-tale, the barbarous red, is imbrowned and imbrued. 'Tis thine, the majority — thine, not the foeman's — that well may I know by thy pallor and mien." And thus cried the Lord of Valence, " Yea, Chastellier. What of my armour there's happily Might well for a rusty armorial suit in baronial hall make a tattered display, [left Dight deftly on skeleton framework. Gramercy ! a skeleton under it so do I feel. So numb are my limbs, and so fast am I bleeding; and bleeding have been for an hour or two gone. I fear me that neither the arms nor the wearer will reach the baronial halls of Valence." " Nay, be not so downcast," thus answered Chastellier. " Wounds can he healfed, and help shall If but thou canst keep on thy feet till the Emperor enters in panoply royal the vale. [be had, So courage, my brother I Come nearer unto me — more, more to my wake — from the worst of the fight. I'll see thee athrough it. Beshrew me! the worst of it's over — what say I? And safety is near." " For courtesy kindly and speeches of comfort," thus crifed Valence, " I thank thee, my friend. Yet sad the forebodings, my spirit oppressing, that shatter my courage aud palsy my powers. I feel, if the Emperor even this minute in panoply royal did enter the vale, I fain would avail me at last of the welcome occasion to drop and to die on the field." And now were the barons around of Sir Oliver, eke and the veterans stationed there. Thus, thus were they crying, "Though serried our phalanx, yet terrible breaches are rent by the foe. Our ranks are impoverished sorely, and ever impoverisheder more every fytte do they seem. At last may we see what a fell decimation these onsets perpetual work in our ranks. Since holes, gaps, and breaches of murderous meaning break, harrow, and plough up our populous band. Yet close them, and close them, perpetual close them, though tragic catastrophe waits the new men — Yet close them, and close them. With bodies robustest grip, rivet, and solder our surface around. In solid, compacted, and disciplined levy we meet the incursions to stagger and fall. In solid, compacted, and disciplined levy strong brothers behind us step into our place. At last may we augur, at last may we reckon what fell decimation these onsets have wrought. Since holes, gaps, and breaches of murderous meaning break, harrow, and plough up our populous lines. Again are they yawning — again do we close them. Again are they yawning — again do we close. With courage exhaustless and spirit, we stoutly grip, rivet, and solder our surface around. When, when will the Emperor come to relieve us? When, when will his banners be seen on the plain ? O God ! an he cometh not quickly to help us, ne'er, ne'er will a man be left standing alive. Again are we breached with orifice hideous and horrid, right into our populous press. Again do we rally ; and, stoutly determined, knit, knot, brace, and brail up our ragged battailles. When, when will the Emperor come to relieve us? In solid, compacted, and disciplined throng We stand : but despair, in despite of our spurning, stalks often amidst us as stoutly we stand. When, when will he come ? We have counted the interval. First, it was hours that we counted it by. But now it is minutes. O God I it is minutes. Each minute we hope, and each minute despair." And thus crifed some : " Hasten, hasten your horses, ye gay cavaliers that with Charlemagne ride. CANTO XVI. 133 Strike spurs, bury rowels, and gallop the snorters. Each step that ye take saves a brother from doom. Deep, deep strike your heels— oh ! as deep as ye never have struck them before — deeper strike them in now. What matters the lacerate coat of a charger, when men are a-mangled and massacred here ? Haste, hasten your horses, and gallop your coursers, ye gay cavaliers, that with Charlemagne ride, If ever, then now. For to extermination we're harried, we're driven, we're ravaged, we're slain." " We've waited for hours, and we've waited for ages ; we've hoped against hope and we ne'er have complained," Thus cri^d some others around them, " but, tardiness, — sick unto death are at last we of thee. No never, no never shall banners come floating o'er summits behind us to beam to our aid. No never shall spears glitter, crowning and fringing the tops of the mounts with their gay balustrade. Despair doth possess us, despair doth environ with hideous fancies our efforts to fight. Vain, vain is our prowess, and vain our endeavours 'gainst ever fresh teeming and mustered might. Since hefp is denied us with fatal postponement, till death hath relieved us from wishing it here. Let's throw to the winds our surmises of succour, and hope but with courage determined to die." And thus cried others, " Since four of this morning, for hours at a stretch well nigh fourteen, In battle we've striven. With wounds are we covered ; with aching bones our frames are sore. Famished and hungry, with nought to replenish our strength abused, exhausted force. Like hungry beasts we stand at bay, doomed to the stronger to be a prey." And thus cried the baron. Hector de Montdevis, unto the veterans, Arthur Roze, Jean le Breton, and Jacques Peronne, who nigh around about him fought, More to the ragged middle or raggeder left, in juxtaposition close : " At first we fancied, brave companions, our brothers on the right were far The better off than we, defended by bastions as they are, and thronged In massive press. But better and safer here do we be-find ourselves. Their populous throng doth mightily tempt the Saracen host to concentrate Its principal part in constant attack upon it, and thus give ease to us. Their solid array doth seem to defy the bullying foe, and hence the storm That ravages them and rends them apart^ and hence the lull that slackens here. Thus oaks are uptorn by roots from the ground, while lowlier reeds go scathless and free. They only in front their foemen espy, and thus in a mass they alway them see. While we in our ragged and straggling square oft single foemen stalking see. And now, by St. James ! hard, hard us behind, with feathery plume and glittering arms. There's one. And to meet him I hasten right gladly ; and he or and I shall measure the plain." Thus saying he sprang with a shout to the rearward, right into the heart of the straggling square. And clashings of sabres soon told to his fellows how Hector de Montdevis fought with his foe. And thus cried the veterans, Jean le Bretonny and JacquSs Peronne and Arthur Roze, " Much easier now the fight appears. Our straggling seems our best defence. The populous throng doth mightily tempt the Saracen host to prowessy. Their solid array doth seem to defy the bullying foes, and hence the storm That ravages them with tragical gaps, and gives the lull that eases us. Most mightily we may thank from our hearts the fortune of fight so sadly strange. That setteth at their comparative ease poor straggling levies in feeble square, 134 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And charges, impulsive and irresistible, a bellying, blocked, and barriered press. With holes, gaps, and breaches of murderous meaning the populous press is ploughed thorough and through. In solid, compacted, and disciplined levy again do they solder their surface around. With holes, gaps, and breaches is harrowed and ploughed the populous press right thorough and through. Again, with a discipline noble and awful, cementing they solder their surface around. Good luck to our brothers that fight with Sir Oliver ! nobly and gallant the torrent they stem. Most mightily may we their prowess heroic thank, thank, for the lull that relieveth us thus. Have at you, ye caitiffs ! " thus cried they advancing right out from the front at their pestering foes. " A dish of good battle we come to provide you, and give you a bellyful famous of fight." Thus fencing they stood in intrepid encounter, well out from the front of thestragghng square : Which hither and thither was strangely bedappled by Saracen champions a-stalking within, By Saracen champions with feathery helmets and glittering armour a-stalking about. As if at review-day, and fighting adventurous hither, and thither, as fancy did list. With one, Roger CoUart was stoutly a-fencingj and eke was Duke Astor with other engaged : While Hector de Montdevis, slain now his foeman, most doughtily challenged a pair to the fray. Thus strangely bedappled with Saracen champions with feathery helmets and glittering arms. The square did the strangest, most curious, quaintest appearance of all of the battle a-wear. And far to the left, where the straggling levies of Franks were to prowess adventurous put. Now darting aforeward, now dodging a-hindward, to scape or to follow the feints of their foes. Here glittered the livery thickest ; and often the Saracens rimmed them so at the back. That turning to fence them, and ever returning whenever the skirts of the charges came near. That dashed like the sea on the populous body, but broke but in ripples afar on the left. They oft were in deadliest peril ; yet these and other adventurous things beside Were little known, or e'en suspected, by those who in the main body fought. Or had they been, could be relieved ; since sweltering battle raged around The populous press under Sir Oliver, who, compacted and serried strong. Saw nothing, heard nothing, but only the resonant roar of their foes. And round them the dust Whirled up to heaven, and hid them nighly, while sunlight laughed on all beyond. Now there were two barons in the army, Ivon and Ivor, brothers-in-arms. These two by choice and eke election had occupied all afternoon A post beset with peril, the very extremity of the straggling left. In gallant isolation nearly, th' intrepid pair had held their own. By deft retreat or other artifice foiling the fury of their foes. Here far from orders and from presence of generals, left to themselves. The countless arts of skilful skirmish and sally sudden, they practised. Full many a time had they adventurous coup together plotted and planned And carried off successful. And now in a. last one it happened, which had result E'en full successful as the rest — far out were they, far out from the lines — Ivor fell wounded, and thus to Ivon, his brother-in-arms, he thus did cry : "Sore wounded am I, brother Ivon — so sorely, methinketh, that ne'er from earth Could I uplift my wounded frame ; — and far in front of our friendly lines In desperate danger are we both. Th' occasion calleth for despatch. See here, my brother. Take this packet, which painfully I draw from out The linen semmit next my bosom, where alway do I carry it. CANTO XVI. 13s This packet — take it. It relateth unto my castle in Auvergne. Thou knowest the bearings of the matter — oft have I talked with thee thereon — My step-brother's claims, so basely advanced, and how the lands were left entailed. Yet 's there no proof of what I've told thee, but this same packet, my father's will : Wherein 'tis definitely noted in terms of legal and strait rec6rd The c6mplete issue, and especial the clauses twain where hangs the point. To one of which my step-brother yieldeth, the other implicitly denies. The former clause which leaves allodial the lands and castle to myself, This he admitteth ; but the second one, which deviseth their tenure in Fee-simple to my children, most basely he controverteth, and treats the clause As non-existent or interpolate, maintaining the fee a qualified fee. Not absolute, as here it standeth, strait set down in my father's will. Alack for my little ones and my lady, if he make out his wicked claim ! — As make it out he will. Incontinent he'll turn them out upon the world. Proof is their none but this same testament — Too late it is for me to moan My silly foolishness in thus a-bearing about on my person the precious scroll. But there I thought it safest. Departure and absence for years and years from home— The knowledge of home-life's strange vicissitudes— womanly weakness, and the thought That haply o'er my wife prevailing by machination cunning, he Might worm from her the priceless document, had I entr-usted it to her care — These things and others did decide me to bear the precious scroll away, And wear it on me, though in our frequent talks and confidences on The tail and tenure of my property, I ne'er divulged the fact before, Fearing thy just rebuke and censure for rashness or conduct ill-advised. See here, my brother— take the packet. With pain I put it in thy hands- Take it — and when in course of fortune thou dost arrive in time to France, Go to Auvergne, and to my wife with strict injunctions tender it. Nor leave the lone and friendless lady, until thou hast, past all dispute. Established by legal process in court of feoffment the claim. Now, brother, leave me, and instant hasten thy journey back unto the lines. Where safety waits thee. And, prithee, during the rest of fight dispose thyself, So far as honour will allow thee, most out of danger and secure. That this, my last commission to thee entrusted, thou may'st execute. Here, take my hand— good bye ! my brother— Ivon, in battle oft before— Yet need I speak no more— with bleeding I swoon— the castle, see to that— My helpless lady — I — I — I — ," thus swooned Ivor on the plain. And thus cried Ivon, " My gallant brother— he swoons from bleeding— yet does he live Strong and robust in vital throbbing— his heart yet beats— his breath is strong. Ivor, Ivor, brother Ivor, with whom in battle oft before In gay companionship I've forayed, thus, thus to leave thee alone, alive ! Man, man, look up— this silly swooning . His tottering steps I might support With arm around him, if but he waken, and slow convoy him to the lines. Wake, wake, dear brother,— hear my telling— thy dragging steps— alas ! the swoon Bewraps him sorely, and all unconscious he lives— he lives ! My brother dear, 1 yet will save thee— I will not leave thee— dost hear me, boy? Alas ! the swoon Bewraps him sorely." So stood Ivon looking upon his fallen friend. And thus he spoke in doubt and sore distress unto his mighty soul : " Woe, woe is me ! What shall I do ? Whate'er will be the end of this ? 136 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Charged and enjoined to betake me with swift celerity to the lines, That, fortune aiding me with favour, I there may court security, T' outlive the fight, and his commission importantest to execute — Charged and enjoin&d so to act by his last breath of consciousness, How can I go away, and leave him alive, abandoned, and alone ? Woe, woe is me ! What shall I do? Whate'er wi41 be the end of this ? If I, obeying his injunctions, do hie away unto the lines. He will be foully slain, whenever the Saracen ranks come mustering here ; He will be murdered, whose warmth is vital, whose heart beats strong and sound as mine. Flesh-wounded merely, and lying transient asleep and swooning on the field. Whereas if I, to watch me o'er him, and wait until his swoon is o'er. Stand here expectant, or if determined with reckless hardihood I stay To fight bestriding and protecting him, then surely too shall I be slain. And his commission, wherewith he charged me, unexecuted be for aye. Woe, woe is me ! What shall I do ? Whate'er will then become of us ? Now does the thought come surging within me — 'tis bold, and yet 'tis possible — And haste me to 't, for by their manner the Saracens have observed us — If I could only call Sir Roland, who in our neighbourhood not far — So far, far out have we a-gotten in foray adventurous from the lines — If I could only call him, as roaming anear us he goes in the Saracen host. Then under cover of his protection might I my wounded friend with slow And gentle motion draw at leisure safe and secured to the lines. Thus could I save both him and myself, his dear commission to execute," Thus as he pondered, it seemfed better; and raising his voice he called aloud, "Sir Roland! Sir Roland ! Help, help, Sir Roland ! Far out on the left ! Sir Roland, help ! " Meanwhile the Saracen ranks were advancing fast upon them. Roland heard Himself a-called. And spying about through the lines embattled he saw the twain, One down, the other standing over him. Forthwith thither he took his way. Stepping high, his lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding. On The Saracens mustering came, but the Paladin leaping behind them stormed, and straight Confusion arose. An errand of murder was turned to a desperate fight for life ; While he stalked ruthless through the multitude, destroying ; and came to Ivon's side. And thus he spoke with stern demeanour, "What doest thou here so far from the lines ? Is this the proof of urgfed discipline ? Is this the state of the battle now. That Franks must straggle insubordinate or forced to flight about the field ? Say, man, what bringeth thee and thy wounded brother here in midst of the foe ? Is 't thy caprice? Or is 't necessity ? Is it adventure? Or is it rout? That thus I find thee here a-standing some quarter of a mile in front of the lines ? " And thus cried Ivon deprecating, " Sir Roland, hear me speak. We twain By our free choice, and eke election, have occupied all afternoon The very extremity of the Frankish left, a post with peril beset. In almost isolation fighting did we right manfully hold our own. By deft retreat or other artifice foiling the fury of our foes. There far from orders and from presence of generals, left to ourselves. The countless arts of skilful skirmish in self-defence we practised. Full many a time had we adventurous coup together plotted and planned And carried off successful. And now in a last one it happened, which promised to be E'en full successful as the rest, Ivor fell wounded, and thus are we here, CANTO XVI. 137 To what thou sayest about promiscuous rout in the lines, it is not so. Nathless the square on the left doth straggle sorely, and much distressed is By Saracen champions who stalk about it dealing destruction on every side. Meanwhile the populous press round Sir Oliver, gallantly fighting on the right. Rent, torn, and chasmed is unseemly by oft repeated charge of foes." "Take up thy brother," thusxriM Roland. " Both he and I have call for the lines. Take him up thus by the shoulders gently; and draw him as softly as thou may'st O'er grassy sward and hillock gently, while I do cover ye behind." Thus cried the Paladin, and behind them he slowly moved, his lance in his hand. His tall plume terribly nodding. Thus came they at last unto the Prankish lines. He, there arrived, dealt destruction untold among the Saracen chiefs. His mere appearance caused to scatter and melt away the dappling throng. Thus moved he through the ragged square, with scarcely now a foeman near; And so he came where roar of battle and clashing sounds betokenfed The neighbourhood of the populous press. At his appearance there immense. Straightway a lull ensued. And the foemen withdrawing, at a distance stood And showered their darts. Now came a truss of javelins well aimed, and down Dropped the Marquis de Pidal and Vincent Villemont, a veteran, his neighbour. Now came A heavy barbed spear, a-loaded at the end, and through the heart [alone Of Geoffrey Rudal plumb it went. And this continued all the time Most unremitting. And thus cried Roland unto Oliver at his side : " How goes the fight? In what position stand ye? Since tidings I heard anon Of decimation ; and far too many bodies I see a-lying here. How goes the fight, and how hath it been with ye ?" And thus cried Oliver, " Turpin's down." " Now should he have waited," thus Roland moodily answered, " to shrive these infidels dogs. Who want conversion ; for an my strong arm and hopes. of succour fail me not. Not one of them, but he in dolour shall babble for a shrift ere night? " And thus cried Oliver, " Brother, thy confidence is greater far than mine. Of men I've lost so many, and some the bravest, that sooth I ne'er could reckon them To tell thee names." Now came a shower of darts well aimed, and down there dropped Otto, the lord of fair Thuringia, and Nicolas Yves. Now came a stone. Hurled by a Balearic slinger with certain aim, and through the brain Of Count de Coucy plumb it went. And thus to Roland at his side Exclaimed Oliver, " Brother, thy promises about the Emperor's approach Have filled with hope and grief alternate full many a gallant heart that's here. Now longing, looking for his presence, now dazed and desperate with despair. They've fought this half-hour in vicissitude of constant hope and constant fear. Woe, woe is me ! What to be done ? Whate'er shall be the end of this ? So many gallant fellows lying in bleeding heaps about our throng. The fairest flower of prankish chivalry stark stricken down in bloody death. Weltering around." Now came a truss of javelins well aimed, and down Dropped brave Berengier, gallant Engelier, barons twain of Picardy, And Colin Duclos, the veterans' pride. Now whizzing through the air a stone Came true to its mark, and straightway the Seigneur de Borde did measure the dusty ground. Now came a flight of arrows by skilfullest archers discharged, and rolling around Were Hubert de Langlois; Raoul de Torni, Richard Camp, and Geoffrey d'Echant. And thus cried Oliver pursuing, "See, brother, the work that reeks around ! Our bravest and gallantest knights and veterans time after time do bite the dust. 138 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Destruction cometh unescapable. Unarmoured men can help it not, However we stand. Though now a merciful lull doth reign abating here. Yet may'st thou augur by the comparative havoc now, what havoc fell The charges deadly have wrought. Unarmourfed men can help it not, howe'er We stand. See, brother, the work that reeks around ! " And thus did Roland cry : " Aye ! aye I I see." Now came a shower of javelins well aimed, and down Dropped Count du Quesnoy, Count de Fleron, the Seigneur de Ligne, and William de Hermes. Now launched upon its deadly errand a bolt plunged pinging through the air, And buried itself through tattered beaver in Lord James de Sculles' forehead white. And thus cried Oliver, "Thou seest, how we stand. When, when will the Emperor Com.e to relieve us? When dost expect him — at soonest — at latest? Roland, say. Since howsoever we be positioned, in lull or in action, we're cruelly slain." And thus cried Roland, " The Emperor — the Emperor — ere now he should have been on the field. Ere now — aye ! half an hour ago I timed him. Almighty God in Heav'n, Send singeing down thy reddest thunderbolt and blast me to the powdered earth, If that alternative arriveth, which dream I dare not, and he comes not." Now at this point of the battle a cry arose from the far off left, " Help, help, Sir Roland ! Help, help, Sir Roland ! The back of the left ! Sir Roland, help ! " Answering the summons, Roland movfed. Forthwith thither he took his way, Stepping high, his lance in his hand, and bis tall plume terribly nodding. Arrived, He knew a party of weary veterans beleaguered and beset to death By glittering champions of the Paynim. These, these he scattered, and gave his men Their longed for liberty. With joy they saw him, and had release. Scarce had he turned Away from these, when more to the front of the straggling left, another cry Was heard arising of ruth and danger, " Help, help. Sir Roland ! Sir Roland, help ! " Answering the summons, at once he moved, and forthwith thither he took his way. Arrived, he brake the hostile cincture opportunely for wearied men Oppressed and whelmed with never stopping storm of blows. And now again, Twice now at once, there rose in different parts the cry about the left, "Help, help. Sir Roland I Help, help, Sir Roland! Thy soldiers call thee! Sir Roland, help I " He, spying hither and thither about through the ranks embattled, took in the place Of both the summonses, and making selection, forthwith thither he took his way. His lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding, and brake the enemy through. Then to the other where he was called, he moved, and gave his soldiers ease. Meanwhile the veterans and the barons, who formed the square on the straggling left. Did thus together cry : " Sith emptiness reigneth now within our midst. And Saracen foemen in fell confusion have vacant left our straggling square. Let us, to obviate disaster similar in our lines again. Close fast our ranks as erst the torrent some hours ago in levy dense Successful we resisted, again brace up and knit ourselves with new Access of valour, and the foeman inhibit ingress to within." Thus closed they up in serried phalanx, shoulder to shoulder and man to man, And straight with carnage bloodiest by rain of darts were decimate. Perplexed, amazed, and panic-stricken at this reception of their plan ; Nigh blinded by the hail of arrows that flew incessant in their face ; They brake in fell confusion a-loose from each other, and in doing so Pell-mell disorder made. That instant, the Saracens, s.pying their golden time, CANTO XVI. 139 Charged, with the Caliph at their head, in ghttering line on line indrawn. On, on they came impetuous — Panic for the first time seized the Franks. They turned to flee ; but ere they turned — astonished saw a spectacle strange Of reinfed horses and curbed steeds, a cavalry rush up-stopped half-way. And then, amazfed, they knew behind their timid backs, with lance uplift, Roland portentous standing, immoveable, stock like a statue — looming above Their heads upon his charger tall. And thus he shouted to them beneath : " With rash celerity and idle tactics, ye ill-advised did mend your ranks. Your only safety now in the battle, since storms awhile give place to darts, Is open order. Your ragged straggling was better far than packed press For such encounter. E'en in the populous press, whence hither I took my way. When darts are coming, they stand divided. Yet ye that moment for massing choose. Who gave the order for close formation ? " And thus the men on the left replied : " 'Twas common counsel. Since the merciful lull thy presence secured here. Thus, thus we spoke, ' Let us to obviate disaster in our lines again Of foemen fencing and fiercely fighting their way into our straggling square. Filling and making at back and front of us precarious press of foes, — let us Close fast our ranks, as erst the enemy some hours ago in levy packed Successful we resisted, again brace up and knit ourselves with new Access of valour, and their champions inhibit ingress to within.' " And thus cried Roland to Duke Astor, and too to Collart, the veteran : " See ye, that no such fell spontaneous idle strategy occurs Again. At arm's length, or even further, the men must stand, when darts do come. And if, as like, such free extension doth weaken your scant impoverished lines, A party of relief I'll send ye from the army's populous right. Whither I now betake my way. See, therefore, and my bidding do." Thus cried he, and rode towards the populous right upon his charger high, His'lance in his hand, and his tall plume terribly nodding— a very tower of steel. And thus the men of the left together, as they watched him disappear : " See now, no sooner will he have left us, than the foemen will charge anew, And fight us fiercely hand to hand with courage freshened and spirit new. 'Tis firstly he, and with him respite; and then the foemen with deeds of death. Hither they come ! 'Tis but an instant that he has left us, and now they come." Like seas roaring against rivers, on came the Saracen levies amain. They charged— a shock ! They reeled— a rally. Then spread they out in angry ranks. And, instant, fencing and desperate parrying was proceeding along the lines. And thus the veterans, as in pauses of fighting they breathed, and breathing fought, " Woe, woe are we ! What shall we do I Whate'er will be the end of this ? In desperate strait we stem the battle, nor very longer can we do 't. Would, would to God, Sir Roland hadn't left us a minute now agone ! Since unprotected by his presence unto our foes we fall a prey. At every round down drops a brother, at every lunge we see a death. Sooth, sooth it seemeth that the living do only stand and wait their turn. Our strength is long ago exhausted— 'tis but mechanical we fight. Sooth, sooth it seems we weary fighters but stand and wait our turn for death. Would, would to God, Sir Roland hadn't left us alone a minute thus ! Since unprotected by his presence unto our foes we fall a prey." And thus cried others, " Let us call him. If but we raise our voices all, 140 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Above this clattering din and uproar we yet shall make ourselves a-heard." Thus spoke they together, as in pauses of fighting they breathed, and breathing fought. And thus cried burly Jean le Breton, looked up to was he by them all ; " Nay ! call him not. God knows ! his errand whereon he goeth to the right May be to men in worse extremity and greater strait than we ourselves. Aye ! and himself — let's not forget it — let's spare him all the task we can, And give him if but e'en the breathing-space of riding to the right from left. The livelong day the royal gallant hath been incessantly at fight. Here, there, and everywhere about the battle, in desperate conflict hath he moved. Let's think of him — let's not forget it — and spare him all the task we can. Nor grudge him if but e'en the breathing-space of going to the right from left. Nay ! call him not. God knows ! his errand unto the fast beleaguered right May be to men in worse extremity and greater strait than we ourselves." And thus the others, " Where'er he cometh, he bringeth comfort and release. Would, would to God he ne'er had left us untent, unaided, and alone ! Since unprotected by his presence to foes we fall an easy prey." And thus behind cried Roger Collart unto Duke Astor in the square : "The enemy's tactics — bamboozled utterly, dumb, dumb confounded at't I am. It seem'th howe'er we place the soldiers, yet cannot we escape their fall. Such fearful fencing, such deadly scuffling — see there ! a dozen men at least In bloody carnage rolling, mowed down by shoals of scimitars." " 'Tis desperate strait," Thus cried Duke Astor. " Would, would to Heaven Sir Roland here were back returned ! Woe, woe is me ! What to be done? Whate'er will be the end of this? An he not hither soon returneth to save us from extremity, Nought will he find but wrecked levies in dislocation sundered. Formations lost, and single soldiers promiscuous scattered o'er the plain. Then 'twill be all too late to rally, to execute th' impossible. With help too late to us arriving, his fiercest storms will be in vain. Woe, woe is me ! Whate'er to do? Whate'er will be the bitter end ? Bewildered, paralysed, confounded at this so bloody work I stand." And thus the Franks in desperation stemming the tide of Saracens : " Woe, woe are we ! What shall we do ! Whate'er will be the end of this ? In desperate strait we stem the battle, nor very longer can we do 't. Our strength was long ago exhausted — 'tis but mechanical we fight. Mechanical, and scarcely witting how on our wearied legs we stand. Upon our knees in very feebleness we weak repel the fiery foes. Now falling forward and ne'er recovering, now falling backward and struck to death. Would, would to God Sir Roland hadn't left us unaided and alone ! Since unprotected by his presence we cannot aught ourselves avail. Too strong, too many are the foemen — too few, too impotent are we. Come, let us call him ! Such the extremity, right justified the summons goes. Come, let us call, and bring him hither, ere every single soul be slain." With that they all did cry, uplifting their voices above the clattering din, " Help, help, Sir Roland ! Help, help. Sir Roland ! Duke Astor's left ! Sir Roland, help ! " Meanwhile had Roland by this arrived hard up to the side of the populous press, Which now he found beleaguered and breachfed by raging press of Saracens. Straight at his coming a lull arose. The angry foes retreating fast Left bare and empty a round circumference, and o'er its vacancy they showered CANTO XVI 141 Darts from a distance. And thus cried Roland speaking unto Oliver : " How many in my absence have fallen ? How hath it been with you ?" " Twenty, nigh. And many more most desperate wounded. Scarce dost thou hie thee from our side, Than straight at once the foemen marshalling in fiercer volume come them on. As if to compensate by fury for past omission of attack. Breathed and inspired with newer vigour, each time with more success they charge. Breached, rent, and torn here in thy absence have we oft been from end to end. The only safety for the soldiers wiU be for thee to stay with us. Since scarce thy back is turned departing, than sweltering battle closes round. No longer or in strength or spirit the men are fit to bear it now." " Alack, alack ! " cried Roland answering, "on other errand came I here ; Not here for good to tarry, Oliver, since better things I hoped to find Than what thou now reportest to me ; but sooth to bid ye fight amain, Hoping 'gainst hope, 'gainst trials striving, expectant still that help will come." "Brother, our only hope and help," thus Oliver cried, "is now in thee." Now came a flight of barbW arrows well aimed, and down there dropped to them The Comte d' Auxerre and the INlarquis de Ternaut. Now through the air a slinging stone Pinged on its deadly errand, and Edgar, the veteran brave, did bite the dust. And thus cried Roland, " How many fighters can ye spare to help the left? Some must be straightway drafted thither, if still there is to be a left. Right thinned, attenuate, and impoverished are there the lines. How many men Art thou prepared to spare to help them ? " " Roland, my comrade, to the point Shall be my answer. If here thou stayest, then half the men — aye, more — then all. If that thou goest, not one. The bitter truth I tell thee. So tired am I — What are the others? — that if much needed props be thus withdrawn from us, I wouldn't answer for the consequence." Now rising on the air were heard Those cries for succour from the veterans upon the left, "Sir Roland, help ! Help, help, Sir Roland, Sir Roland, Sir Roland ! " Then Roland mightily distressed Cried, " Danger sore the men encompasseth. First 'twas single soldiers called; Now 'tis a whole battalion. Oliver, give me a score you best can spare, Scarcely to succour but only to cheer them with faces familiar among their lines. You here, until I back return me, make the best stand you can. The fight Is not so hot, to all appearance, here as there." " Brother, thou art No judge in that. Where'er thou goest, the battle waneth. When thou art gone. Then waxeth it unto dimensions that beggar every battle past. Here, take the soldiers. God bless thee, brother ! Thou'lt bring them comfort and relief. And when thou there hast aid afforded, then think of us who crave it too." Now came a shower of whizzing javelins, and down there dropped upon the ground Raphael Giffard, and Herbert Morelle, and Reginald Dubois. Now came alone A heavy heaving loaded spear, and pierced the veteran, Jean Dadin. Still surged the feeble cries for succour afrom the left. And Roland moved Rapidly thither j a score of barons, right weary fighters, followed him close. And thus the men of the right together, as they watched him disappear •■ " See now, no sooner will he have left us, than storms will rend again the press. But little longer can we withstand it — or barely hold till his return. Woe, woe, are we ! What shall we do ? Whate'er will be the end of this ? " Like seas roaring against rivers, on came the Saracen levies amain. They charged— a shock ! They reeled— a rally. Then poured they on in angry mass, 142 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And, instant, grappling and desperate wrestling was proceeding along the lines. Of Saracens striving to force an entry, of FranliS resisting to keep them back. And Oliver rapidly hither and thither moving about the populous press. Throwing now here, now there his enormous shield, where weary fighters were, Thus, thus he cried : " Some minutes only I promise ye this storm will be. Ere it has reached its height. Sir Roland will back return, and give relief. Hold ye up, brothers ! 'Tis but transient— the fag end of a ceasing storm. Soon will he come to aid ye; brothers; already, belike, is on his way." Thus cried he, making exertions tremendous with all his strength to aid the Franks, Now planted solidly in the middle, now rushing fiercely to the skirts, Now throwing here and there his enormous shield where weary fighters were. Woe, woe, and havoc ineffable ravaged the large circumference of the press, And here was scuffling, and here was fencing, and here were shouting tumbling crowds. And here were Franks on bits of bucklers a-catching javelins a yard off hurled. And Oliver hither and thither moving saw sights dolorous about the press. Thus came he on a Frankish veteran anear the skirt extreme of the right. Who stood inactive, his hands by his side, his sabre lying at his feet. And thus cried Oliver, " What doest thou thus ? Bethink thee, man. Pick up thy sword. If thou hast here an easy moment, thy neighbours have it not. Help them." And thus the veteran cried, " Sir Oliver, since four o'clock this summer morn Till now, in straight continuous fighting, I battled have. I can no more. These arms are numb, these hands are paralysed. An twenty pikes were at my throat, I would not, could not clench my fingers to pull a single point away. For me the battle now is over. I've done my duty, and fought amain, Until this body, once so muscular, knows not sensation any more. Therefore but leave me here, I prithee, and spare me censure or commands ; The first, I trow, would be unmerited, the second, alack ! be unobeyed." Then Oliver passed distressed from him, and thus the Franks as he passed along Cried, " See, Sir Oliver, see our woeful plight ! How can we longer stand ? — Stand to be massacred — ^stand to be murdered in cold deliberate slaughter thus ? Nay ! let us bare our gallant bosoms, and reckless run on the enemy's points. Oh ! give us leave, sir, to seek destruction, rather than slow and certain death ! First one drops down, and then the other. We only wait our turn to die. Oh ! give us leave, sir, to seek destruction, rather than slower and certain death ! " Then Oliver, in woeful desperation, thus spoke to the baron, Duke Gaifier, " Do thou, as fleetly as foot will carry thee, make for Sir Roland on the left. Bid him to hasten his steps a-hitherward. In fearful extremity are we here. Each minute is precious ; each minute is fatal, of e'en imperative delay. Bid him to come at once and instantly, or not a man will here be saved." Then hasted Duke Gaifier his footsteps to seek Sir Roland on the left : Who now amid the weary fighters in dire distress contending there Had now arrived. "O merciful moment ! " thus did they cry. "At last relief, At last relief," they cried, " and succour has come to us distressed men. A little longer, a little longer had he his glad approach delayed. Nought had he found but wrecked levies in dislocation sundered. Formations lost, and single soldiers promiscuous scattered o'er the plain. Upon our knees in very feebleness, gallant commander, have we fought, Now falling forward and ne'er recovering, now falling backward and struck to death. CANTO XVI. 143 O merciful moment of rest and welcome, when by our melting foes in front We knew that thou wert fast approaching, nigh, nearing, sighted, and descried ! O moments these of bliss and comfort, when thus we stand a breathing-space. And look around us, un-fearing, un-harmfed, upon the scene of havoc past ! " And thus the barons, who with Roland, a score or more, had come from the right, Thus cried they mixing with the left wing men, " From spot of peril sore Here have we come, from bravest brothers rent, sundered, torn, harried to death. In little time it will be welcome that back Sir Roland should there return. And lend his craved-for assistance to men in fearful straits as ye." " Now God forbid it ! " thus unanimous the weary soldiers on the left Crifed in anguish, " an he leaves us, fell desolation will be ours. Nigh pushed to extermination were we amid this last affray. Only in time he came to save us, and give us riddance of certain death. Weak, weak, and feeble, on him we centre our single, sole salvation now. His absence from our side a moment means swarming foes and charges new. We cannot bear it. Such repetition to every man means martyrdom." 'Twas now that through the opening ranks around them, as he hurried on, With hastening foot came Duke Gaifier making for Roland. And thus he cried In agitation, " Sir Oliver sent me, telling me, fleetly as foot might take My steps to hither, in haste to hie me and bring this message from the right : He bids thee back at once to speed thee. In fearful extremity are they there. Each minute is precious. Each minute, granted to e'en imperative delay, Brings death to men as fast as seconds upon the fingers can be told. Haste thee, Sir Roland, at once and instantly, or every soul will there be slain." And thus the men of the left together, hearing the errand, " Now God forbid ! Gallant commander, gallant Sir Roland, with thee in battle oft before In happier days we've stemmed the foemen, and many a tough assault of arms Unflinching at thy command we've carried. To do thy bidding we've never tired. Leave us not, Sire, in this extremity. Leave not thy faithful soldiers thus. Oh ! pity us poor weary warriors, and leave us not defenceless thus ! To thee we look for life and safety. 'Tis massacre ruthless waits on us. If thou departest. Great commander, thy faithful soldiers who have bled In battle after battle for thee, right willingly and devotedly. Here, here we beg of thee. Sir Roland, leave us not here once more alone. To death o'ergiven and to martyrdom ! " And thus cried Roland, " What to do? If I, 'Gaifier, do take thy telling, I leave these weary soldiers here To certain ruin. If I, my brothers, stay with ye, then fail I them. See, come ye. So desperate dilemma admits solution as desperate. See, come ye, and marshal," thus cried he passing athrough the ragged lines to the front. " Marshal your ranks with ready discipline towards the populous press on the right. No longer populous but sore impoverished, and form with it one solid band. That thus at once I may protect ye, both sides together, in levy close. To decimation sore I doom ye, that weet I will, from thronged ranks. Whene'er the foeman, baulked of charging, to missile-throwing takes again. Yet is no other way. And missiles the lesser havoc work with ye. See, come ye now, you weary warriors. I'll not desert or you for them. Or them for you, but both together, as God may help me, I will protect." Thus cried he, shepherding their motions, As when a shepherd doth bring a flock 144 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Of lambs, belike, or sheep to herd with another flock in fields hard by. So Roland brought the tirfed fighters afrom the left to join the press. At his approach and theirs, immediate a lull arose. The failing foes Left bare and empty a round circumference, and o'er the vacant ground between Showered darts and missiles. The swollen levy did offer all too fair a scope For saucy marksmen. Now came a shower of javelins well aimed, and down Dropped Guy de Roussillon, Guy de la Trimouille, Regnier de Monbarbe, Hubert de Maur, The Count of Aix. Now came an arrow whisk through the air, and through the eye And through the helmet's back behind it of Henry Glanville ping it went. And this continued. Yet did the charges not continue. Roland in front Stood fearful sentinel. As should a shepherd — or could a shepherd — by port immense And aspect terrible overawe a pack of hungry ravening wolves Famished for sheep, standing in front of them, and waving off the beasts of prey. So Roland, shepherd more effectual, fair overawed the Saracens. Now came a bolt from skilful slinger, and down there dropped the Comte de Foix. Now came an arrow, and Jasper Jeaucy, the veteran, bit the dusty earth. Now came a shower of heavy javelins aimfed well, and rolling in death Were Henri de Brive and the Sieur du Chesne, the Seigneur de Jarnac, and Count Tavannes. And now a very pitter of missiles began to play upon the Franks. And Anthony Bret dropped, Philip Legout dropped, Michael dropped, and Vincent Le Brun. Now dropped in death the Marquis de Villars ; now dropped the veteran, Reginald Aire. Now dropped three barons close together, the Marquis de Cause and the Comte du Camp And gallant Thibaut, the Lord of Montpellier. And thus cried Oliver from the press, " Foul work are they wreaking with their missiles. With carnage bloodiest reek the ranks. A little further, Roland, my brother. Drive them a little further off, That more uncertainty and lesser tragedy may be the issue of their casts. A little further, Roland, my brother. There's decimation fell behind." Then rode he further afield, and before him the foes retreating unwillingly Sulkily went, half-threatening onset. He, like a rock that dams the sea, Stood firm and large and planted. Yet will the licking waves creep round its base. When tides are rising. So round Roland, so far out was he on the plain, In twos and threes the Saracens dribbled : in twos and threes, in threes and fours. He motionless and with fearful aspect regarding the vasty host in front. Sole stemmer of their onset, unconscious of rimming ripples, planted stood. Thus dribbled away the foes around him. As when around a mighty rock Damming the ocean, the waves are running little by little behind it fast ; Until at length the swollen waters in full flood fair encompass it. And thus cried Oliver to the Frankish barons and veterans at his side : " Hold up your shields, or what there's left o' 'em. Bow down yourpeakfed helmet-tops, And let the darts a-glance from off them, if that they will ; for sore they come. Sure ne'er such desperate rain of missiles deliberate aimed and with effect Hath ever ravaged a regiment." Now came a shower of javelins, And down dropped Simon Le Grand, the veteran, and William, the Lord of fair Champagne. Now came a swarm of bolts by Balearic slingers fatal hurled. And down dropped Robin Villon, Bertram Murie, Theobald Malinet, Raoul du Fresne, the Count of Ligny, the brothers-in-arms Jean Grisard and James. And now beneath a flight of arrows from bows pulled lustily to the ear, Dropped Bertram de Bellamy, Sieur Eustace de Vertain, Sieur John de Vienne, the Comte de St. Pol, CANTO XVI. 1 45 Guy le Normant, Yneril d' Yvry, and eke the English baron, Ralph, The Count of Huntingdon, with Henry Granvile eke, and Jasper Goce, And other veterans, Martin, Albert, Gilbert, Godwin, and Humphrey Roux. And now dropped Edward, and now dropped Percy, and now dropped John, the Lord of Nismes, And now dropped Bertrand, the baron of Picardy, now dropped Stephen, the Count of Maile. Thus did the Saracens nigh them standing assail the Franks most constantly, With pepper perpetual or with voUies— and both with equal dire effect. And thus cried Oliver to Roland, raising his voice to make it heard, " Roland, my brother, hard behind thee in swelling levies the Saracens swarm. With murderous carnage they assail us. At quarters close they hurl their darts. Stay not to dam a non-advancing host, but turn thy head behind, And see what swarms of unexpected foemen do swelter in thy rear. With murderous carnage they assail us. Destruction riddles us amain. Roland, my brother, backward hie thee, and come anearer to the lines." Then Roland turned, and seeing the multitude that there had dribbled past his front, Rode like a patrol driving loiterers from somewhere where they not should be, And drave them headlong out. Then planted he again himself before the press,. Some yards off only now. But the enemy en masse had followed hard on his Retreating motions, and when he settled himself as post in front once more, Lo ! they were standing in tossing multitude with but an alley yawning bare 'Twixt he and they, threatening onset, impudent, insolent, undismayed. On, on they came with cries of confidence and roar stentorian. Like a strong wind Beating against a conflagration : the flames slope backward their pointed spires. Their tongues a-downward licking : the Saracens, hot and furious, advanced Up to his charger's nozzle, and backward in panic falling gave room and ease. Again they came ; again with terror alone they failed, they drooped, they fell. Then stood they fiercely at the distance, and plied a horrid rain of darts. At once anew the Prankish ranks with carnage fell were decimate. Then Roland heard right at his ear the cries of wounded and slaughtered braves. " I die." " I die." "This barbfed arrow has pierced my all be-shattered mail." "Alack ! Alack ! good bye, my brothers. God give me grace ! " " Woe, woe are we ! To drop in wholesale decimation e'en with our leader by our side ! " Now came a flight of heavy javelins well aimed, and loaded ; and down there dropped Nicolas Jeannin, and Andrew Guibert, Symon le Bret, and the Count de SSves, Adam du Mesnil, and Mark, the veteran, a gallant fighter, sooth, was he. Now came a sheaf of arrows by skilfullest archers discharged, and rolling around Were Michael Lognard, Thomas Fremin, Charles the duke of Aquitaine, Bernard Villy, the Comte de Carmagnoles, the Marquis du Pollair, and Arthur Blanc. And thus cried Roland to the Saracens, " Back ! back ! and cease your galling rain, Or fear my wrath and judgment. My brothers dear, with much distress I see Ye prey unto perdition. Unwillingly here I sit and quell my arm From dealing wholesale devastation among these caitiffs us before." Still pelted perpetual pitter and sprinkle of darts and javelins the ranks among. And thus the veterans and the barons one after other who bit the dust, " Now am I done for." " And now am L" " And I, Jacques Demerin the gay, Whom never a fight has dashed his spirits, to earth I fall. Alack, 'tis death ! " And now came showers, and now came voUies ; and tumbling in heaps of bloody death u 146 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Thus, thus they cried, " Our gallant leader, woe, woe are we defenceless men ! Since e'en thy presence here amongst us can save us nothing from death and doom." And thus cried Roland to the Saracens, " Back ! back ! and cease your galling rain. Back ! back ! or fear my wrath and judgment. A second time I bid ye not, But moving forward, and raging amidst ye, in holocausts will I offer ye." Still pelted perpetual pitter and sprinkle of darts and javelins the ranks among. With clouds occasional and intermittent voUies of javelins, darts, and stones. And thus the veterans and the barons amid the tumbled heaps around, " Woe, woe are we ! What fearful martyrdom ! Stricken to death in crowds are we. Our gallant leader, oh ! stay this massacre. At any price this murder stay. Better were anything than carnage so bloody, so inescapable." And thus cried Roland, " I go to do 't. I'll spread ye such a lull, my friends. That, in my absence, in the sunshine here may ye bask upon the field. The time is come. The cause is crying. No else alternative is left. Long, long ago had I expected that such a severance must come 'Twixt me and you. Yet will I alway strive to be visible to your eyes. While beating aback from you destruction, which but in ripples shall break on you. If God doth aid me in this endeavour, desperate, perilous, long postponed. Long, long postponed, my gallant brothers, for if mischance should fall on me. If aught should happen, and ye defenceless, weak, wounded, feeble, as ye are. Better, I weet, for one and all of ye that your mothers had ne'er ye borne. Yet is there now no else alternative. By God's good grace I triumph shall, And grant ye my heart's eternal wish for ye, — safety, comfort, and relief. Do ye all, therefore, stand together, with minds at ease, and what display Of doughty prowess ye yet are capable, if accidental rushes come — As in the chances of a battle the greatest care its slips may have. But for the general onset on ye, I'll answer for that. And so, good bye. Till second meeting. I go. My purpose is to destroy the Saracen host." CANTO XVII. Thus speaking he moved upon the enemy with aspect terrible to behold. Awful advancing in zigzag motion, with straining body and flying arms. Alike across the field a reaping-machine, portentous implement of husbandry. Hurries with horrid wings expanded, combing, and combing, and combing the corn — A monster hideous ! wherein destructive plays strident, griding, ruthless knife Cutting and thrashing the unresisting corn in shocks and sheaves about : So Roland rode destroying the Saracens; so did he reap them, so destroy. So did he reap them, so did he gather them into the garner of gloomy death. And thus the palsied-stricken soldiers, appalled at the havoc round. Thus, thus they cried : " With such a portent in ambush mid the Prankish lines. Wherefore t' extremity thus have pushed them ? The worst of tactics have been played- The worst of tactics, to drive the foeman in maddened frenzy to despair. Then is his strength ten times redoubled, as we too late deploring see. Too late, who wait devoted victims to such abandoned, ruthless rage. CANTO XVII. xAr-] Now curses on our fools commanders, who brought the battle to this pass. Instead of drawing oflF, and striking an honest truce, an hour ago ! Too late it is to talk of parley, now that our chastisement has begun. Too late to dream of executing what easy were an hour ago. The worst of tactics has been playfed, to drive the foeman to despair. Then is his strength ten times redoubled ; and hence this fell resistless rage." Alike across the field a reaping-machine, portentous implement of husbandry, Hurries with horrid combs expanded, cutting the corn in shocks and sheaves. So Roland rode destroying the Saracens, so did he reap them and destroy. And thus the captains urging forward, or hurrying backward their flying men : " Will ye not face him ? and if not conquer, at least with bodies brave struck down Stay for a moment his vengeful fury, and give your brothers behind relief? " Or " Haste ye backward, and put battalions between your sorry selves and him. Ye've borne the pith of past engagements ; let others bear the brunt of this. Haste, haste ye backward. What recks disorder, when death flies rampant us behind ? Better one universal scatter, than wholesale slaughter to a man.'' And thus the princes and commanders of the staff, who yet remained In life, having escaped Roland's former rifling of the host, Thus did they cry, amid the confusion and wrack ineffable that reigned around, " What fell confusion ! What foul disorder, ungoverned, unquellable, unallayed ! In struggling crowds of men, the soldiers have lost all look of discipline ; Half facing forward, and failing to face him ; half falling hindward in pell-mell rout. At foolish tactics have we playfed, in driving the foeman thus to despair. His strength is lo ! ten times redoubled. His might has waxed to mountain height." And thus the Caliph among his body-guards, " O fatal rashness ! " thus he cried, " O fatal rashness that me did instigate to drive the foeman to despair ! Would, would to all the gods I worship, I ne'er had brought the fight to this, But stopped and quelled our constant onset an hour ago, while yet was time! O fatal rashness that me did instigate to drive the foeman to despair ! Since, mounting up to heights terrific, hath waxed his awful prowessy." Alike a reaping-machine advancing, portentous implement of husbandry. With horrid' wings abroad expanded, combing, and combing, and combing the corn— A monster hideous I wherein incessantly slashes a strident, ruthless knife — Cutting and thrashing the unresisting corn in shocks and sheaves about; So came on Roland, so came he on, zigzag abroad among the host. None could escape his angry fury, none could evade or pass away. None were behind him, all were before him ; so constant drave and reaped he on. Quailing and terrified, fled the soldiers in huddled crowds his rage before. Thus crying, " Horrible is the portent that hath descended our ranks among. But horribler far the death he wreaketh. No death in battle dealeth he, But crushing, pulverising ruin — bone-breaking, body-banging death. So regular, with such precision, worketh he zigzag his way along, Alike some fatal martial engine, some man-destroying fell machine. ■ As those who mangled by machinery are caught and crushed to lumpy flesh. Such is the death, be sure, he wreaketh, pounding, and beating, and reaping the host. Let us remove us from his vengeance; let's scatter, let's crowd, let's push, let's crush. In tossing mob is greater safety than in compact and insolent lines. Alike a reaping-machine advancing, with horrid wings outstretched abroad, 148 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Combing the corn, and thrashing it unresisting in shocks and sheaves about, So came he on. And thus the Cahph — far, far removed was he now from the throng. In terror hieing him to the skirts of the field amid his glittering guards. All garbfed superbly in gorgeous armour, that dazzled the eye e'en to behold. Their shields with jewels were thick encrusted on golden ground, and powdered with suns. Their helms were trussed with sheafs of silver. On milkwhite horses they sat around. And thus the Caliph, with royal diadem cinctured, amid his glittering guards. Thus, thus he cried : " Instead of conquering, we here have come to be destroyed. Such wrack and ruin of chosen levies! such fell destruction of bravest men ! Such rude reduction of ordered symmetry to one confusfed tossing mass ! And all in 't victims — not one solidity or rallying-point among the throng. O fatal rashness that me did instigate to drive the foeman to despair ! Would, would to all the gods I worship, an hour ago I'd stopped the fight ! O fatal rashness that e'er brought me to this fell battlefield to-day. Where 'neath my eyes I see destroyed the fairest army of the world ! The harlot, victory, with false caresses hath lured me on, blind, to my doom ; Hath plunged me, fool, in irretrievable, blank, bottomless destructi6n. O cursfed rashness that e'er brought me to this fell battlefield to-day ! Where 'neath my eyes I see destroyed the fairest army of the world ! " And now among the battalions of Ascalon, ragfed Roland. And straight a mob Struggled in place of ordered companies, which he with ease lashed and destroyed. Ploughing across them with flaming rapier, with ponderous solid hoofs of steed Trampling to death those undespatch^d by glittering steel in lightning play. On to the teeming battalions of Sicily he ploughed amain ; and straight at once Chaos, dismemberment, and confusion his very aspect there ensued. Copious among them he destroy^ in groups the pushing, flying mob. What scenes of seethy desolation, when he departed, his work performed !• On to the teeming battalions of Granada next he plunged, and midst the mob Struck out at random — heads, shoulders, bosoms, promiscuous mark of sweeping sword. Down ruined they in frightful spectacles. Alike a reaping-machine rolls on. Laying in shocks and sheaves the corn, so rolling he, devouring, destroyed. And thus the Saracens, " Horrible the portent that ravages our ranks among. But horribler far the death he wreaketh. Haste we, remove us from his sight. We cannot bear his awful neighbourhood. Down to the bottom of the plain Through struggling crowds of seethy soldiers let's push and force our instant way. Let's put all ground, let's put the valley's whole extent 'twixt us and him. If desperate forcing and fearful struggling can open through the host a way." Thus did they cry. But he behind them portentous thundered, and ere a while. Not one of all those would-be fugitives was left a-living. On he rode, Splashing into the troops of Seville. With mighty sword he reaped them down. The Moors of Aleppo stood behind them, and with them the battailles of King Saleeh. They stood a moment. Then quaked — and emptied in awful chaos their swollen files. He was among them, slashing at random— heads, bosoms, shoulders the spoil of his sword. What scenes of deathly devastation, when that he had his work performed ! And next in the lines of gay Serailia, copious he went, with might renewed. Smiting at random : a mob of scattered fugitives shunned his awful sword. In vain I Inescapable, he was among them, never to leave them till death and doom Had worked their sheer extermination. Thus he exterminated the host. CANTO XVII. 149 Battaille, battalion, troop, and company, one after other in order ta'en. And thus the Caliph cried in anguish, "O fatal rashness that me brought, With heart of pufffed, boastful confidence, to this fell battlefield to-day. Where 'neath my eyes, powerless to stave it or turn away the punishment Of overweening, I see destroyed the fairest army of the world ! O shattered hopes of lordly vengeance ! O dashfed dreams of triumph, mine ! Come here to triumph, I have offered relentless triumph to my foe. I, I, have granted the occasion, have pushed the chance within his way, Placed in his grasp the opportunity, which else he ne'er had reached to. But for my own foolhardy folly. O armies, armies, once so fair. Now merest mobsteneath my scanning — your deaths, your ruin are my own. O fatal rashness that hath brought me to this fell battlefield to-day. Where by my bitterest foe destroyed I see the fairest host of earth ! Now would to Allah, when He made me, that in my frame he'd socketed An arm of bronze, instead of flabby flesh with coursing veins of blood ! Not then should I be here a-standing, bemoaning womanlike my woe. But in the front of my battalions, teaching them how to stem the foe. Alack ! alack ! that I inactive must here remain, and soothly see All that I prize, to foul destruction doomed, dedicated, and conveyed." And thus the princes of the Saracen staff in consternation sore. Thus, thus they cried, " Is truce or parley all too late? Were 't all in vain, If we, prostrated, threw before him our bodies grovelling at his feet. And begged him, offering half our kingdoms, to stay his fell relentless rage ? Alack ! alack ! awful destroyer, he recketh not of tryst nor terms. Too late, too late we talk of parley. Already half his work is done. See how he ravages and riots amid the mob upon the field ! Will he to please us baulk his conquering hand in mid career ? Will he. Deaf to the clamours of the soldiers, list to the pulings of the chiefs ? Nay, rather, on such adventurous errand did we approach him, blind and huge. The first to fall, the first t' encounter relentless destiny should we be. To kneel beseeching on earth before him, were but that instant to die at his feet. Great fear possesses us, great woe oppresses us. A little longer, and the host Will be annihilate, and we left standing, alone, the victims of his rage." And thus cried Malcus, King of Africa, the general of the staff was he, " Ye ponder well to talk of treaties, and most especially to him,— Him who of all the world but knoweth too well the value of Saracen's tongue." An4 thus did cry the Sultan of Carthage : " Had ye aforetime not lied, and lied. Till not a shred of credibility is left in aught ye whining say. Not yet too late were word of parley ; but, sooth, 'twere now insanity." And thus did cry the princes around him of the staff, in panic sore : " Great fear possesses us, great woe oppresses us. A' little longer, and the host 'Will melt before his awful prowess, the army fair will be no more." And now before him the levies of Cadiz, and now the levies brave of Val Were going under; where'er he traversed, in ruin sank the full battailles. And now the troops of Albuera, far famed for warlike discipline. With him remorseless moving through them, in pell-mell rout asunder fell. There once were troops of Tarragona ; but so there were, alas ! no more. There once were troops of Andalusia ; but now no more such troops there were. ISO THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Brave were the Saracens of Ackdeen, and stout were Eber's brawny braves. Gallant were Valladolld's levies — but Roland came, and where were they ? Where were Cord6va's serried bodies? and where were Salamanca's men ? Where were Seville's swarming forces? Gone, gone, in ruin gone ardown. Thus moved he traversing the battle, in awful motion athwart the plain, And fast before him, in ruin sinking, was going down the Saracen host. As when amid the open country, when snow is lying on field and hill. Covering the face of bounteous nature with powdering robe of frosty white, Comes on a thaw : the slipping snow-wreaths sink and give : the heaped drifts. Curd-pure, sift settling downwards. And when the sun comes out at mid-day, the snow Melts fast. So was the host melting before Roland. He, like the sun, About the plain did move. The Saracen Caliph saw his glorious troops Before his eyes diminishing, and raising his hands to heaven, thus he cried : "All the forces of fair Arabia — Allah ! Allah I hear my prayer ! All the forces of fair Arabia before this man do melt away. All day long hath he ravaged thy legions, all day long hath he slaughtered thy hosts. Impious, Christian, and blasphemous, in holocausts hath he thine destroyed. Wilt thou endure this, Allah ! Allah ! Are all thy thunderbolts unused ? Is ne'er within thy glittering armoury some singeing shaft to lay him low ? Can clouds roll on, with such a carnage reeking among thy servants dear ? Can skyey firmament arch over, not yawn asunder in vengeance bright, To show thy angry glory, or angels, thy ministers, down despatched to aid? Or if not that — if laws of nature must still not interrupted be — Then other aids. Almighty Father, do thou vouchsafe ; and in my arm. In my poor arm, so weak and feeble, strike strength omnipotent and might. Grant me that I, alone, unaided — or nerve thou these with equal might, The Silver Shields, my royal body-guard, thy servants consecrate, whose sign, The suns and crescents on their armour, speak them the henchmen of thy creed — Grant, Allah, grant that we together, to desperate strength upraised by thee. May smite with fierce annihilation, and stay from havoc evermore This foul blasphemer, this fearful portent, this Christian cursed, who wrecks thy race. Come on, ye guards ! I feel already instinct within me, thrilling high, The might sent down direct from Heaven, God's guarantee of victory. Come on, ye guards ! With blurting courage, that blurts not only, but dares to do. Thus let us go, all, unappall^d, right to the neighbourhood of the rage. Are ye prepared for fierce encounter, to face, to charge, to strike, to die ? * Then so am I. On Heaven's errand with Heaven's strength we're armfed. Come. And Victory, Victory, silver-winged, floats in the air with costly crowns." Thus saying he signalled his glittering body-guards, seated on milkwhite horses fair. And he at their head, with his diadem cinctured, led off at a gallop the gay cavalcade. With skilful curvettings and deft pirouettings, with prance and with gallop and racing amain, A stream of white horses, in twos and twos rushing, first swept they around of the skirts of the field. Now joining in squadrons they ambled together, now breaking in line thin of tapering white. Around and around, like a foam-tippfed billow, they ran and they hurried, they swept and they swam. And thus did the wearied barons and veterans, encamped in the press, at the head of the vale, But little beleaguered, but little infested were they, and spectators well nigh of the fight, CANTO XV IT. 151 Thus, thus did they cry, " O beware, our commander, beware, our salvation, our hope and our stay. Beware of the Caliph's white cortege of cavalry. Oh ! 'tis not for nothing they sweep them around. The battle, the battle, where lately in majesty sole and unharm&d thou stalkedst thee on, Is now with a surging white wave all environed, which, where it doth break, threatens ruin and doom. No meaningless eddy, no vain evolution is this, but deliberate strategy fell, Which has for its object, be sure, and no other, the capture, the slaughter, the chase of our chief. Beware, our commander, beware, our salvation, the Caliph's white beetling bold cavalcade." In squadrons and squadrons now hurtled the cavalry round and around of the packed battlefield, And now tailing off they were threading labourious thorough the straggling fringes their wa\'. And now on the hem of the ravaging battle in thin running circle were galloping round. O spectacle royal, O vision delightful, to see the great Caliph's white bold cavalcade ! For now would the foremost horse stop at an obstacle : up came the others a-surging behind. And flocks of white horses were ever a-forming, and thinning, and forming again and again. O spectacle royal ! O vision delightful ! for when they spread out in cqmpletest brigade, 'Twas like in the distance a Hock of white sea-fowl, who fly through the stormy clouds, scream- ing, on high. So snorted the beautiful milky-white horses, so shouted the riders, so roared the brigade. Sure never in battle a lovelier spectacle was than the Caliph's gay white cavalcade. And now had they thinned from their serried arrayment, in tapering line ; now the foremost had stopped : Up rushfed the others a-surging behind him, and flocks of white horses stood massed on the plain. And thus cried the Caliph, with royal diadem cinctured, amid his glittering guards : " Half of our desperate journey is over. Here, unobserved by him, we've ta'en Our cautious way, and right in the battle's heart, nigh in his neighbourhood, we stand. Hear ye not near us the thunder portentous that echoes from his trampling hoofs? Say, are ye nerv&d and braced to face him ? Your spirit, is it wrought so high ? For now there's no returning. A little, and at his side, under his gaze. Fighting and facing the irresistible shall we be — irresistible deemed Falsely, for hither destined to triumph on heaven-sent mission have we come. Does this inspire you, or fill with royal drink of valour your failing frames? So does it me. Almighty Allah has chosen us his instruments. To wreak his vengeance on his enemy. Hence will he paralyse his powers. And raise up ours to height of mettle, that not till the moment can we guess. E'en now ye seem, ye are brave, dauntless, all unappalled : no trembling 's here. Then, gallant guards, place ye behind me, and let us circle to his side. When there, will angels come to help us, Maimoun, Asmodeus, and Mahound— I here invoke them. God of our forefathers, work thou a miracle, that the weak May crush and pulverise to ruins the might of the resistless strong." Thus saying he led them, piloting slowly among the turbid ranks his men. And they behind him, on chafing chargers bridled and curbfed, stalked along. And he whom they sought, in royal progress hither and thither about the plain. Alike a triumphal chariot rolling, rode remorseless with trampling dire. O'er shields and helms of prostrate foemen he rode, and foemen prostrate laid To ride above them, and ever others to prostrate, vanquish, and destroy. IS 2 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Alike a mighty chariot splashing amid the carnage of the field. With hoofs of horses stamping bodies, and loaded wheels of iron behind : Awful, immense annihilation its road doth work. So rode he on. Victorious, unassailed, triumphant, the royal master of the host. All through the packed strong battalions, of Saragossa's bravest men. All through the stout battailles of pikemen that Esprevera sent to war. All through the haughty halbert-bearers of Oropesa's chivalry. All through the glittering Lirian levies, he rode — and ruin yawned therein. Asturias had sent its musters ; fair troops were they — till Roland came. Galicia had despatched its chosen — until he came, their ranks were whole. Until he came, unscathed, uninjured were Piu's bold, brac6d-up battailles. Who wotted that the steel-clad Sirmians were flesh and blood, until he came ? Who guessed, who augured that the Aucans could broken be, or one destroyed ? But now blind havoc and desolation blent, blotted, and bleared these gay brigades. Tumultuous ruin ! — and he among them, broke, crushed, rode, rolled, trod down, destroyed. Now at a party in glittering livery, who dared to face his forward way. He fierce struck out amain with terrible wheel of lightning-flying sword. Shivering helmets, cleaving escutcheons, rending to rags the bright array Of plated panoply in files a-placfed, but now in heaps promiscuous down. Still moved he on, nigh unopposed. O fell triumphal progress his I O fearful crossing and re-crossing in devastating ride the host ! What tracks of ruin were behind him, what shouts and riot were before I As fast and faster on his errand of devastation he swept, he rode. Alike a mighty chariot rolling with glowing wheels and spokes afire, In headlong passage rapidly running hither and thither about the plain. Such was his fell career triumphal. And tracks of havoc seamed the host — Broad beaten ways of broken pieces of glittering armour, and of gold And silver spangles — cut through it was with them, streeted, cross-roaded, and labyrinthed. Such was the havoc that even the conqueror began to stay his ravening hand. For lack of armies to annihilate. In scattered mobs, rushing about. Such were the once brave Saracen soldiers — a very slough of soldiery. As when amid the open country, when snow is lying on hill and field. Covering the face of bounteous nature with powder thick of frosty white. Comes on a heavy thaw : the snow-wreaths run trickling all in channels down : The soot-bespattered drifts show water ; slush sops, and snow is now no more. The sun, the cause of all the turmoil, blazing in heaven, warm, all day. Throws straggling beams a-sinking. So Roland 'gan to stay his conquering hand. 'Mid single soldiers, mixed promiscuous, of lost battalions, fleeing his face, Such was his riding now. Behind him afar, at every fresh despair New mettle winning, rode attendants, the Caliph and his body-guards. Unseen by him exultant, avoiding his eyes by deft manoeuvring. Desperate, primed to fearful exploit. And thus the Caliph to them cried — Gorgeously garbfed were they in glittering armour that dazzled the eye to behold. Their shields with jewels were thick encrusted on silver ground, and powdered with suns. Their helms were trussed with sheafs of silver : on milkwhite horses they sat around — And thus the Cahph, them haranguing, thus, thus he cried, " The hour is come. Ye Silver Shields, my own brave body-guard, whom price and largess unwitheld Hath drafted hither from all Arabia, chosen warriors of our world, CANTO XVII. 153 Guards of my crown, my life, my empire, the time of proof has come at last. Called are ye now to preside at a kingdom's fall or founding eternally. The crisis now of the whole of the battle, its turning-point for weal or woe. Has come at last. To desperate effort have we mustered up our powers. The hope forlorn of the wrecked Saracen host lives, beats in you alone. To fail in this our awful enterprise were but to add the final crown To all this heap of ruin ; to princes and kings, in scores, of Araby, To chiefs and champions pernicious slaughtered, to add the monarch of them all. WeU nigh their last survivor ; to armies brave, ravaged, dismembered, to add Ye too, the bravest, noblest phalanx that ever lit the field to-day. But to succeed, my guards, to succeed in 't — why it would counterpoise at once All our disasters, would be a conquest worth all the carnage of the field. List, list, — if ever men's cupidity could be enlisted in a task, 'Tis yours. And hear me. Ye enter the conflict guards and privates of my band. Ye leave it kings. Each brow a coronet, golden and turreted, carry shall Of those who live, the grand survivors of Roland's death and vanquishment. What see ye not, and know ye not the kings and princes that are down, The kingdoms tenantless, the princedoms vacant, the thrones left empty by to-day? And think ye not, that I, the master supreme of fair Arabia, Have power and right — aye ! will to-morrow give each his sceptre and his queen? Thus shall it be. And thus it shall be, since Heaven fights with us to aid our arm. Now then, the task, the prize, the reason, all have I set^before you now. What there remains, is to essay it, and win the prize that ye deserve. Come, then. No more of idle language, but deeds be ours superlative. There midst the wrecks of ruined regiments, deserted well nigh, unapproached By flying men that quail before him, death-palsied by his sight alone, — There stands the foeman, hesitating, as 't seems to me, whether to stay His final ravage or renew it merciless, inflexible, unappeased. Now is our time — and, guards, ye mark me. Mark ye that open space beyond. Outside these straggling lines of Catalans, that, still half-marshalled, lie between — Mark ye that space. We walk our horses noiselessly down between the files ; Then with a good clear fifty yards before us, we sweep full speed in full Squadron, straight down upon him. And Allah grant him the fate that he deserves ! " Thus spoke he now directing the tactics by signal and by word along. And thus the Franks at the head of the valley, with painful eyes and straining gaze, Following the motions of the battle, and most the Caliph's cavalcade, Thus, thus they cried, " Alack ! he sees not, Alack ! he hears not, nor e'en suspects The danger fell that brews anear him. He stands, as if he hesitates Whether to deal a final ravage, or drop his sabre's point. Would, would To God, that he would turn a moment his head this way ! Would, would to God ! Doth he not hear? Have they no echo, those fearful flocks of horses white ? Do bridles jingle not, reins rattle, spurs clink, or ne'er a neigh betray .■■ So noiseless they ! Like fleecy cloudlets around collecting, that bode a storm, So come they on in crowds collecting. Eh? Will it burst ? Will 't break on him ? Death is upon thee, royal Roland. Thou seest it not, nor know'st it near. From such a packing host of fleecy gatherers, all armed with one intent, Some deadly strategy, some fell manoeuvre, long planned, is being brought on thee. Woe, woe are we, if aught doth harm thee, for ruin stares us in the face ! " 154 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. And thus cried Roland, staying his ravening hand at last from further fray : " No more will I relentless ravage. 'Mid scattered companies and flying men, My work is murder, not destruction. Therefore will I delay my hand. Enough is done to stay their onset. Never can they recover them. The day will draw ; the hour will come of succour to my wearied men, Which late though sure is fast approaching. Then have they succour, now relief." Scarce had he spoken thus, when suddenly on either side of him there rushed A whirlwind of cavalry. In an instant Roland enveloped is in waves Of silver shields and glittering armour, a very eddy of fearful depths. Carbuncles and rubies blaze around him. All sight beyond of horizon. Or view of field is lost for ever. The setting sun, with ruddy rays. Crimsoned the silver shields with glows of rose and carmine. Then Roland roared With rage. Like a lion he roared with rage. The circling flood around Surged rough, swept slow, then gradual settled and slept, alike a whirlpool white. From out whose depths profound and treacherous, no mortal man has e'er escaped. CANTO XVIII. At once went up two cries to heaven. " Woe ! woe ! now all is over now. Slain is our gallant leader : o'ergiven are we to the fury of our foes." Thus cried the Franks. And thus the scattered Saracen levies about the plain : " Huzzah I huzzah ! At last is victory ours assured. O happy hour I Slain is the terrible man. O'ergiven are they to our fury and our rage. Come on, ye Saracen braves. Come on ! To raven and to havoc come ! " Thus cried they promiscuous scattered, and instant were marshalling fearless, in turbid ranks, Enrolling at hazard whoever came nearest, helms and turbans cheek by jowl. Glittering armour and shawl-patterned wrappings — a motley host of residues ; Pikemen and archers and horsemen and footmen, all mixed, and flocking to solid array. Like clouds in the heaven, when tempest is brewing : at first in scattered fluffs they fly : Then gradual cluster in reefs asunder ; then reef meets reef, and soon the face Of endless-reaching mighty heaven is black with storm and'packed with night. So were the Saracens growing together in marshalled battalions all through the plain. Meanwhile the Franks at the head of the valley, beside themselves with fell despair. Clasped one another's hands bewildered, or wrung their hands in frenzy dire. Embracing oft, and others laughing in very silliness of woe : Thus crying, " The end of all our strivings this weary day has come at last. 'Tis death, 'tis death. And inescapable it stares, it threatens, and it comes. O fearful fate ! And yet more fearful, that we before our eyes should see Our gallant leader, our great commander, encompassed in that whitey whirl Of milky steeds and eddying chivalry, caught in the toils and dying hard. Would that kind fortune at least had spared him, until each man of us were down. To be the last in this fell battle to stagger and to meet his fate ! But 'tis not so. And cr,uel destiny hath willed that he anticipate In very sight of those who love him the doom that surely waits us all. O grant us, God, thy wretched martyrs, O grant us strength to look with eyes CANTO XVIII. iss Unquailing now on scenes of terror, and bear the massacre." Thus they Cried, desperate driven, and scarce another word afterward they uttered. Now burst the tempest full upon the Franks. On, on it came amain. With mighty wind of whistling motion, armed with the terror of the cold. On, on it came. Before it, drizzling there swept in sheets the arrowy hail Of many missiles, and fast behind them rode on the storm of all the host. Full on the weak and weary fighters beneath the rocks the tempest burst. Vain, vain their coverture. As should a blustering wind blow out from nestling-place In mossy rocks a tufted bird's-nest with all its callow young within Safe-housed and warm, and toss in pitiless frolic the bauble about the ground. So did the storming press of Saracens wrench from their coverture of rocks The little living Frankish army, and compassed them on every side With clouds of foemen. Only the acres of rugged ground warded their rear ; All else was Saracens — to right and left of them, and most in front, in clouds they swarmed. And thus t"he Saracens, coming in merriment round the dazed beleaguered throng. Taunted : " See, see ! the lazarly cowards ! There's not a man of them that has Enough of pluck or martial spirit to step from his neighbours and dare a fray. Come on, ye rogues, ye damnable cowards. Can ye not fence? Shalt have fair play. If any single mortal one of you has but the pluck to leave the lines. And try a duel, sword to scimitar, matching himself with one of us." And thus in merriment other Saracens cried, continuing the jest, " How can ye hope them to be so venturous ? Know ye not their state of mind ? To-day's experience has bitterly taught them there's not a word to be believed That comes from Saracen lips. Excuse them, therefore, their faintheartedness And skulking cowardice, that prohibits their free acceptance of our demand. For, sooth, they think a challenge to single combat is but a dodge of ours, Like other dodges of ours to-day, to get them out of their lines, and then Fall on them a dozen to one, incontinent, making short work of the trusting one. To-day's experience, to-day's experience has taught them much. Excuse them, friends." And thus cried other Saracens laughing, " To-day's experience of our lies. To-day's experience of our dodges, has taught them much. Sooth, 'twas our lies That brought them into their present quandary. Had ye not listened to our lies. Ye might have been all of you marching merrily, marching cheerily, homeward bound. But there — ye were foolish : ye swallowed our lies. How like ye our dodges ? How like ye our lies } " Thus cried they, pricking with their scimitars' points the dazed and stupid Franks. And other Saracens coming around them, and taunting viciously, cried : " The sun Is nigh to setting. This summer's evening, 'twill set within an hour or two. But be not ye alarmed, good gentlemen. We're going to stay with you all night. We wouldn't leave you alone, untended, after all your toils to-day. No, no ! we'll stay and hush you gently to sleep. Here, curse ye, now ! make haste And go to sleep before the nightfall," thus cried they stabbing each his man. " What must we keep our supper waiting, till such damned hellhounds choose to die ? No ! down ye go ! a dozen of you this time. We'll make short work of you. We've changed our minds. We're not a-going to sit all night up for such as you." And thus cried Muley, the son of Ackdeen : " List, list, my brothers,— here, dog, lie down I Wouldst hold thy head up in front of thy master? " thus stabbing a Frank he cried,—" I have A mighty funny tale to tell ye. Will ye believe it, or haply will iS6 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Ye call rae jester, but, by Mahomet ! I hold it true ? Their Emperor, For these vile vermin have an Emperor with crown and diadem complete. Great king of carrion ! — this wonderful Emperor who we heard summoned with blatant horn By that cursed Roland, who now, thank Heaven ! is dying hard amid the guards Of our great caliph — this king, methinketh, prefers his pudding to his men ; For not a single horseman hither has he sent to give them aid. 'Twas common talk about Cord6va what a great epicure he was. And well I picture hirh sitting at dinner, hearing the horn, wiping his mouth. And testily muttering under his iron-grey moustachios, ' D — n their souls ! What do they want, disturbing my dinner? Shall pudding spoil, and men be saved? Or shall men spoil, and pudding be saved ! G-d d — n their impudence ! Bring the relevh.' " Thus cried he in merriment, and the others laughing replied, " But, Muley, we Can cap thy story with a better : he never heard the horn at all." Then turned they taunting to the stupid, half-blinded Franks, and cried, " Ye thought Your wonderful Emperor, like a deus ex machina, would appear just in The nick of time — now did ye? — to save you? But no ! he's gotten something else To do. He recks as little of you as larks or pastry — not so much. What, did ye fancy the guzzling elephant would spoil his dinner for rogues like you ? That is, if he heard your twopenny trumpet. But no ! don't comfort yourselves with e'en This drop of cordial. He never heard you. He never, never, never heard," Thus, progging them with their swords, guffawing they cried. " We knew it all the time, We knew he never, never could hear you. Had we thought different, hours ago We should have crushed you and demolished you. As it is, we've chosen to Torture you slowly to glut our vengeance. How like ye it, bullies ? How like ye it, eh ? " Thus pricking their bodies and gashing their faces with weals unseemly, they cried. And now Came crowding up others, and pushed in front of them, crying, " Here, give us a sight of the Don't keep the sport to yourselves entirely. We want to see them as much as you. [brutes. Come on, ye best of Prankish chivalry. Come and assail us ! What ? dare ye not ? Ye have not such pluck in all your bodies as we in our little fingers have. What ? ye, the chosen champions of Christendom ? Phaugh ! Such champions ! Take ye that— And that — and that — And that, thou billygoat," thus, smacking their faces and plucking their In mirth they cried. And thus a Saracen officer standing near exclaimed : [beards, " Now, by my head ! such cursfed cripples have I in all my fights before Never experienced. These, Christian warriors .' Why, they can scarcely stand up straight ; But staggering, and stumbling, and leaning heavily against each other, they wag their blades At puny random, choking each other's efforts by want of discipline. Mahound preserve me ! if I behold not one of the rascals falling flat In nervous terror alone of the scimitar, that one of our privates had but half Raised up to strike him ! That's right, Ali. Dig your sword in his back, and twist It round and round. Torture the vermin. A coward deserves all that and more." And thus another Saracen ofKcer, conspicuous by his glittering arms And snowy plume, pushing authoritative his way through the rabble, " How many," he cried " Are down ? I fear ye're not progressing so fast as might be." And thus replied The soldiers, " By the trail of dead bodies that blackens their road from the rocks to here, And by the corpses thou seest around us, thou mayest augur. Full half are down — Aye ! more than half, three quarters nighly. Were 't not for that stout fellow over there " — Thus cried they pointing to Sir Oliver, who in the centre of the band CANTO XVIII. 157 With horrid whirl of glittering sabre kept off destruction from those him by— "All had been down ere this." And the officer, pointing to Sir Oliver, cried, " Make ye then for him, and assail him." But thus the soldiers replied, " Indeed ! " With insolent voices echoing the order, " Make we for him ? No, thank you, Sire. We are but the wrecks of an army, remember that, an't please ye, and not Thy own particular soldiers, captain. No, no ! But volunteers we are Of free good will hither collecting from divers regiments to finish the fray. Order thy own men, if thou'st got any left. For us — we own no chief ; And no superior in the battle-ground but our good pleasure and our own will. Up till this moment we've saved our bacon. D — n us, if we'll risk it now." And others cried, " Good Mr. Captain, sith thou'rt so anxious to see that stout Frank put to death incontinent, wherefore dost thou not assail him thyself? He'll yield to thee, assuredly. Surely, he'll faU before thy mighty arm." But thus cried others, " Give obedience to Captain Mehemet thus far at least — He wanted to be informed exactly how many of these Prankish beasts Were down. Come, brothers, in humble obedience, let's of them the question ask." With that they all did cluster straightway, taunting and pointing, around the Franks : " How many of ye are left, brave fellows ? How many of ye are down, brave boys ? To speak of the latter may pass your computing, but as to the former, ye well may count. Come — one, two, three — on our fingers we'll tell ye — and, reckoning two for the stout one, 's five. Eight, ten, fifteen, twenty, — and so we go summing. One moment, one moment, and we shall have done. God bless ye, ye rascals ! as fast as we tot up your total, and look for to verify 't, There's always some two or three down in the interim. Curse ye, ye spoil our arithmetic ! First it was seventy, and now it is sixty; and, damn ye, next time 'twill be forty-five. Here, come and let's finish them off in a twinkling. We won't have our figures and fingers proved wrong. Great Captain Mehemet, and other, ye captains and princes, if princes there any be left, We want to subtract them ; we're weary of adding, sith every addition proves one or two out. Come, captains, we soldiers invite you to prowess. G-d d — n us, you lead us ; we'll follow you fast. We'll charge them, subtract them, and straitly divide them, if you'll but direct us and move us aright." Thus cried they retiring, and Oliver, marking their tactics, out shouted, " Four others I want. To stand in the front at equal distances, each one in touch — you, Duke Gaifier, You, Duke Ast6r, and Roger Collart, and Jean le Breton. No time to lose. The rest, ye marshal close behind us — not a man out of square. No time To lose. They come.'' As hungry wolves, who, sighting a flock of sheep in a field, Rush down a slope at them, so did the Saracens rush on the Franks. As should a posse Of gallant sheep-dogs, standing in front of them, drive off howling the ravening beasts, — Yet do they carry off some wool-bearers; so did Oliver, Duke Gaifier, Astor, and Collart, and Jean le Breton, exerting all their strength, keep back The maddened Saracens, so behind them and at their side a few Franks fell. Then did the Saracens, back retiring, with curses and blasphemous threats heaped on No less the Franks than on their officers, "Curse ye, ye lazarlike carrion," Thus to the Franks, " though faint and stumbling, ye yet can stand ;" and thus to their Officers, " Curse ye, ye beasts, ye've duped us. Ye're fine leaders, and let a charge So brave go fruitless. D — n you, we'll scimitar you and skin you, if the next 158 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Has such an upshot." Then collecting, like as a pack of hungry wolves. Spying a flock of sheep in a meadow, rush down a slope at them, so did again They charge with fury. Again do the gallant dogs drive off the howling herd, But one of them falls; at once with worrying wolves the wounded dog's beset, And torn to pieces. So did gallant Jean le Breton stagger and fall, And straight was massacred. Through the opening left by him, in rushed the swarm. And carried off the whple right side — for at th' extremity right was he. Now would they have gutted the press entirely, had not Duke Astor and Oliver, Who next were placed, turned round, and, desperate, driven them off. The Saracens Right joyfully retired, exclaiming with shouts and laughter, " Come, come, come. That's better, eh ? Eh ? how we murdered them ! God curse their idle silly souls. Why don't they all go in for suicide, so as to save the devil in hell The trouble of turning the key so often to let them into blazes, eh ? Damn them, we'll send them in shoals this time." Like as a pack of hungry wolves. Spying a flock of sheep in a meadow, rush down a slope at them, so did again With shouts and bowlings the Saracens charge : in vain to such a force of foes Kind canine aid; each wolf a wool-bearer slaughters, or mangles, or carries away, — Promiscuous devastation ! The scattered remains and wrecks of the once fair flock Stand cowering together, with tongues protruded, panting and gasping, or, knees in-bent. Huddled on earth — a motley bevy of feeble victims. So did the Franks, Who yet remained, wait death, oft stumbling against each other in dull distress. And thus with laughter and with merriment guffawing and vaunting the Saracens cried : " The time before indeed was better, but this time 'twas the best of all. Scarce had we a rapier — had you? — had you? — uncrimsoned when the work was o'er. Now, by our heads, so help us Allah ! we'll have a rest awhile before We put our mettle out again. Cursed brood that they are, they give hard work. Come on and view them at close quarters once again, and stick our swords Some half inch into their carrion bodies — merely the points — to plague them so. Come on and prick the rascal boobies, and see them jump. Heigh ! officers. We're going in for recreation awhile. Have we your leave, good sirs. Or have we not? All's one to AH. Wouldj/e belike like to be pricked? 'Cause why — you've got no troops, and pricking might wake ye up to find them. Ho ! Ho ! Ho ! what army ! what refuse ! what pestilent wreck of Saracen host are we ? We're in the mood when sailors stave rum barrels in, and fill their blessfed bones With drink, when captains are washed overboard, mates and pursers drownded all, When 's no authority left in the vessel, but ' Do as you like ' 's the only word. Eh? Insubordination, call you it? That's a fine phrase, but here means naught. Where's insubordination, officers, when no man knows his regiment. No regiment its man, no officer recognises his private, no Private can see his well-beloved officer — but only strange faces from strange brigades Mixed, maxed, and medley — such are the Saracens, subordinate or insubordinate. Come on and join us, and see the fun, or else look to yourselves, ye rogues. We'll order you, we'll be your officers. Next time we charge, we'll set the lot Of you to charge the stout man, Asmodeus ! how he'll chop your guts about ! Come on, boys, leave the loobies ; we'll have the rarest fun with these same Franks." Thus cried they collecting round the Prankish band, and, walking round and round. With oaths and ribaldry obscenest taunted the weary warriors. And thus they cried, " Ye wretched beings, ye timid calves, say, know ye what CANTO XVIII. 159 We mean to do to you ? We mean to devour you. We mean to eat you — to crunch you up. Body and bones, and bolt you quivering. We'll chaw you, we'll stick our teeth in you, Ye wretched beasts, ye cursfed mongrel. What did ye come here for to-day ? To give us steaks for supper ? Certainly, if that ye wanted, we've got the knives. And you the buttocks. Here's the shambles. Won't wait an instant," thus they cried. With cuts and slashes enforcing their words. And other Saracens cried, " Look ye, Good sheep, we come to make you mutton. Good calves, we come to make you veal. Kneel down, weak animals, and take your killing with whatso grace ye may. Say, say. How would ye like, pray, to be cut up ? We're butchers so experienced. That any slicing we can give you — French fashion, Saracen fashion, Greek Fashion, or German, — all's one to us. Ah, cursed rogues ! Ah, caitiffs vile ! Before this evening every man of us here will bathe his hands in your blood. How like you the prospect ? " Thus cried they walking with foul grimaces and mops and mows Around and round the weary, daz&d, dull, and stumbling Franks. And more Came pushing past them, with repetition of base obscenity taunting the Franks : " We mean to eat you. Before this evening, shan't be a shred of flesh left on Your lazarly bones. We're wolves, we're jackals. See, masters, into what company Ye've fallen in Roncesvally's valley. There 're always wild beasts hereabouts — Leastwise since yesterday. You thought it a charming place no doubt ; but, look ye, ye've Found it a perfect menagerie, haven't ye ? We'll strip your flesh from off your bones. And eat it bleeding, you twopenny scoundrels, for daring to trespass in our preserves. Here, brothers all, why stand we loitering, and wasting our time in silly taunts ? Wherefore not finish them off at once ? Better and finer fun 'twill be To mangle the dead than taunt the living. They weary us with their hollow eyes. And pinched up faces, and gasping bosoms. They weary us with their perpetual blood, — Cask-full they seem of it, — for ever trickling monotonous down their battered arms. They weary us with their wizened looks, and pallid cheeks. Eat them ? Phaugh ! No ! But to our dogs will we give them. To-morrow we'll drive from Barcelona here Every cur that's in the city, to batten, and gnaw them bone from bone. Let's finish them off, and then to supper at Ronda's village nigh the vale. Where we will tipple till midnight, and afterward ravish the maids and cuff the men. Come on ! One more charge, and that the last one ! — and a desperate one 't shall be. Are we to stay when supper's frying, and lots of pretty peasant girls Tripping and anxious for our embraces — are we to stay with these cursed hounds Stumbling before us, all night in the cold ? No, d — n their livers ! We'll have them down And finish them. Here— where are our blessfed officers? Once more we want their services, T' effect some sort of formation or other. Here, ye knaves, brush up your wits. And marshal us somehow or other, we care not — that's your business, and not ours. Get us in order, d — n ye, and lead us against the fat man. Once settle him ; The rest are winkle. " Thus cried they collecting in crowds and crowds some distance off. Now there were fighting round Sir Oliver, Roger CoUart, Count Gerein, Duke Gaifier, and Hubert de Longueville, Anthony Broune, and Arthur Roze, Guy of St. Anton, Brian de Mercier, the baron of Picardy, Sieur Anseis, Nicolas Paccard, Reginald Morny, Jacques Peronnfe, Richard Yves, Thomas Demerin, the Marquis de Noyelles, Scipio, Sieur de Vimercat, Duke Ast6r, and Hector de Montdevis, Andrew Dourdan, Peter Roux, The Lord of Valence, Count Gaston, Baron Fulke of Rheims, and Richard Rennes, Gallant Gautier, Henry de Courcy, Humphrey Wace, and the Comte de Belesme, i6o THE DEAtH OF ROLAND. The Sieur de Chastellier, William de Montagu, Geoffrey de Laulme of Languedoc, Gilbert Rous, and Anthony Albret — all the rest by now were down. And thus cried Oliver, " Brothers, behind me, as close as body can body touch. Stand ye in manful muster. Tremendous will be the effort of our foes. Tremendous let be ours to meet it. An we but stem their rush this time, Belike some half-hour's space, or likely enough e'en longer, longer than we Dare hope to dream of, will lull and respite from desperatest fighting be. For pricking swords and 6bscene taunting tongues, ye reck them not. But full Charges are fearful. Man ye this one, and might I promise you breathing-space A while in future. Ye see their mutinous spirit, ye hear their caitiff tongues Openly cursing and abusing of their officers. Full well I ween. If we can only give this spirit time to wax and rise, they will Break up their present unwilling muster in impudent mutiny, and disperse About the field in quest of the plenteous plunder on their side and on ours ; And haply, with the approach of speeding evening, retire from the vale To Ronda or to neighbouring hamlets, and leave us sole survivors here. Might it not be? God grant it may be ! If only a little longer we Make shift to stand them. This time's decisive. Resist them now, and not again Need I to ask ye. I con the character and present mood of the men too well To doubt of issue. Come ! With a buckling clinch of mettle, brace up and tie In knots your sinews. Now or never ! Disasterous fortune has pursued With never-slackening foot our valiantest efforts this day since morn. But soon Or late must come a turning-point. Gamesters, who quibble and dabble with dice the whole Eternal night, ne'er doubt of winning, if they can but contrive to keep Their sleepy heads from nodding, till fortune, propitious at last, vouchsafes a main. So is it with us at battle's hazard. We've set, we've cast, and lost and lost. Now comes the last and final venture ; and. Heaven help us ! we'll throw a main. Let's think once more of the stakes we play for : our homes, our happy land, our all. Shall we re-visit them ? Trust me, gentlemen, the possibility's before Ye now as never was it formerly i' th' battle the livelong day. ' The time Has set itself at last for decisiveness. Brace up your souls, and in the stand Ye now shall make, let every fibre rear up within you, and string itself To stiffest setting. Much do I ask of you, overcome with fell fatigue ; Yet can the weariest make a last effort, and marshal up by strength of will His powers supremely for a final and herculean stand. Now — now — Give heed — behind me — full strength — no wavering ! Here they come ! " As thus he spoke. In crowds and crowds, a multitudinous mob, without order and array. Pell-mell and pushing, on rushed the Saracens, and choked with seething masses of men The total Prankish front. Tremendous, the fearful struggle that ensued I Like as the passage in a theatre, when an alarm of fire is heard From all sides of the house ; the people in scrambling mobs make for the door. And choke the passage with struggling bodies. The folding doors at the end, which shut From inwards, alack ! and not from outwards, are jambed by the crowd, and bar the way. Awful confusion I and desperate wrestling ! So did Sir Oliver bar the way. So did the Saracens wrestle ineffable, ever driven on by new Portentous crowds crushing behind them. Down are the foremost ones thrown to the ground, And over their heads and prostrate bodies come trampling in shoals the mobs behind. Still holds the door. And heaped before it, are mangled and mutilated dead. CANTO XVITL i6i Crushed out of shape, unrecognisable as men and women. Thus choked and jambed The crowd now backwards, now forwards in fearful convulsion sways, until at last. One mighty sweep, and all before it goes down. The ponderous, massive door Is wrenched from its hinges, its stanchions uplifted, and crash it goes down, while o'er it the crowd Pour steadily forward to air and to liberty ; though scores be dead,' yet hundreds alive Remain to gain at last their freedom, triumphant and happy. So did at last The Saracens bear down all opposition. Sir Oliver was knocked down. He fell Face forwards right in the thick of the rushing crowd, his helmet ringing with blows. Like as the noise of the trampling innumerable of feet in the passages overhead. At theatre panic, so did Sir Oliver hear the blows on his helmet ring. Half-stunned he lay, while o'er him the rushing crowd poured steadily, every fytte Coming on fiercer ; with trampling and shouting wild and ferocious, they rushed, they roared. A very torrent of feet and voices passed overhead of him. Like a stampede Of bellowing cattle in droves of thousands, who gallop in panic the prairie o'er. With echoing hoofs shaking the firm-set earth that quakes as they thunder along, So did he hear the trampling of multitudes pass him, until at last all was still. Then got he up, a rueful spectacle ; his body-armour all at the back Was broken, and hung in tatters about him ; his breastplate, his leggings, and his shield Still whole, but only. Half-dazed he turnfed his head to look about him, and saw No one anear him, but in the distance returning crowds of Saracens, Who came, huzzaing, fast towards him. Forthwith he took in with his eye A little slab or wall of rock nigh in the centre of the plain, Not far from where he stood, and thither he hasted, with what despatch he might. And planted his back against it — timely, and not a whit too soon indeed. For up came hooting crowds of Saracens the minute next, and him assailed. As should a gentleman, in medieval days, when swords were worn by high And low alike, one night returning from rout or midnight masquerade. Have been attacked by hired assassins, paid by some private enemy With costly bribes to slay him. He, setting his back against the wall. Fences smartly, foiling their numerous blades by his superior skill. So did Sir Oliver, sraarriy fencing, keep off the crowd of Saracens. And thus did cry a Saracen officer, "Wilt thou not yield thee prisoner? All thy companions are now destroyed. Beside thee not a man is left. Of those who at thy side were fighting, when we ran on ye, all, all are down. Thou art the last Frank in the valley. Therefore yield thee, while yet there's time. As gentleman to gentleman, I promise thee that nothing more Shall be exacted of thee than courtly convoy to Cordova under arrest. There on parole to tarry, till willing courtesy gives release." Nought said Sir Oliver in reply, but only sighed to think of the news he heard About his luckless men. And other Saracens in the crowd did cry : " Belike he fighteth so sternly and desperately, in hopes to keep us off Till night and darkness, kindly auxiliaries, offer him means to make escape By stratagem, or by bullying effort of strength through blind dark-puzzled men. But let him not think so. In some minutes, the caliph and all his cavalry, Who all the while have kept entombfed the terrible man, his brother-in-arms. Like a wild beast a-caged, and ere now must have slain him, and only stay To quarter his body as royal trophy — they will be here j and then too late y l62 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. 'Twill be to talk of terms or parley, much less to dream of fighting on. Or fond escaping— therefore yield thee. Sir Knight, while yet there's time." Nought said Sir Oliver in reply, but lifting his eyes he saw the whitey whirl. Wherein was Roland, still eddying faintly, and every minute it fainter grew. Languidly swum it, and slept, and ceased. And thus thought Oliver, " He is dead, Or at this moment dying." And wistfully gazing at the white whirl he cried : " O Roland, Roland, my brother Roland, would that I could get to thee ! But that I cannot." So fast encompassed art thou, so sore beset am I." CANTO XIX. Late was the hour that summer's evening. Seven o'clock it was or more. The slanting sun threw gleams of golden glory upon the field, and soon, Within an hour, would sink in darkness buried. And thus, before his wall of rock. Thus cried Sir Oliver, as in pauses of fighting he breathed, and breathing fought : " Alone, alone 'mid press of enemies, all my companions around me slain. The bravest knights, the gallantest soldiers that ever the heaven smiled upon — fell catastrophe ! tragic extinction of army so heroical That never from the four winds could summons the most in-searching barken up Another equal ! The sole survivor of all the brave men slain to-day 1 stand, and stammer a sorry requiem over those, whom, to be fit, Should organs peal, whose universal tubes filled France, and Nature's self Wrinkle her grieving face in gloom and sighs o'er. Oh ! such men, such men Are down, great mother Earth, upon thy brawny breast, as stride them not On all thy globey bosom ; nor ever again such trampling firm as theirs Shalt thou, incarcerate in the centre, with joy at strength give ear to. Braves, Braves of the world — O peerless comrades, all down ! Never again shall I Your joysome looks, your cheery words, hear, see anigh me. Alone, alone I stand ; and afterward, should I escape me, as 'tis dubious, from the fray. Alone in life must I in future go ; and wondering men will say, ' That is Sir Oliver, who aforetime had such companions, and loved them so. That ever afterwards, for lack of others like them, companionless he's been. Approach him not, that stern forbidding man. He wants you not.' Oh I such A change ! That were an animal charged to bursting with spirits high. Such once was L My loves, my friendships, my hopes, my joys, my interests, all Alive and beating boisterous. But, with every theme they mantled on. With every brother they embraced, extinct, dead, and annihilate, — sick Are they of keeping. Dead and blackened of human interests is my soul. Not care I to escape the battle. Fain would I fall, if honour would But let me perish. If I dignified might cease resistance, and the swords Thick at my bosom might with glovfed hand direct unto the spot. Where they might easiest give me riddance of my burden, that is my life. Then would I joyfully. Oh, how joyfully I the last man fall, and close the tale. But 'tis not so. I know my duty. As long as these arms can hold a sword. So long will I here stout and determinedly fight — not for my life's sake, but CANTO XIX. 163 That not a speck of honour or duty I may part with, while blood doth run." As thus he spoke, he turned mechanical his eyes towards the eddy white Of milkwhite horses and silver armour, fast in the centre of the field. Quite still it was, with but a ripple of palpitation in the midst. But as he straining gazed with wistful scanning eyes, he was aware Of stir within it most perceptible, each moment increasing. And then he saw Roland walking through the middle. As when a man o'er barren isle Where sea-fowl congregate — a rookery of solan-geese, and eider-duck. Sea-gulls, and albatrosses — so thick they cluster, and crowd with whitey wings the ground. Scarce can he set his foot down anywhere without despatching one of them. He, the proprietor, at stated seasons visits the isle, to thin it of Its downy tenants, and gather precious toll of feathers and of down. Thus walks he through them, banging the beautiful birds with cudgel to right and left. So Roland came walking through the caliph's beautiful cavalry. On every side. As he goes banging, the feathered island is covered with dead and dying birds. In white heaps lying, with wings outspread. So was the plain round Roland now Strewn with the beautiful troops of the Caliph, dead and dying, in white heaps lain. He in the melee had lost his horse. And quickly espying Oliver He hasted towards him, and through his panic-struck crowd of foes forcing his way. Thus cried he to him, " Good news I bring thee. The Caliph is slain, and all his guards Dead or disabled lie about him. Now is the chance for victory. Hasten thee, marshal up the men. Incite them to their firmest front. Immediate effort will catch the Saracens all unprepared to meet it, flushed With pampered hopes of triumph, scattered, void of stability, demoralised. Hasten thee, marshal up the men ! — Hasten thee, marshal up the men ! — Hasten thee, man — what standest thou staring with'thy great eyes at me thus for? Bring up the men — art dull ? or stupid ? or what is it? — the men, our men. The veterans and the barons, go bring them, and marshal them in troop, I say." And thus cried Oliver, " Brother Roland, I have a hard thing to tell to thee. Hard for thy hearing, but hard, much harder for my telling; but thou must know — Scarce do I dare the word to utter — except us two, no men are left." Scarcely had been the stern intelligence made familiar to Roland's mind. Than loud huzzaings were heard in front of them at a distance, and masses of men Blackened the plain, advancing in solid battalion and order symmetrical — No scattered mobs, but serried soldiery, steadily led, and marching firm. And at their head a crownfed horseman, a king, who waving with his sword Urged them forward, and pointed constantly at the two beneath the rocks. Malcus, it was, the king of Africa, the craftiest of the Saracen chiefs. He, known as a politic traitor, and biding his time in battle as in acts Political— half his broad dominions had he by patient treachery won And diplomatic dallying — he, waiting until this moment in the fight. Now moved against them. And thus cried Malcus to himself, as on he came : " AH day have I bided my opportunity. All day long my Africans, A useful army for dealing decisive strokes at perilous crises, I Have thriftily husbanded, holding inactive, unbreathed of fight, at the end of the vale. Now can I use them, now ivlll I use them at last, with terrible result. Roland, the ravager of our armies, fatigued and weary, deprived of men. With but one friend to aid him, is verily now at my mercy. There they stand. 1 64 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. They both have lost their horses ; and opposition worthy of the name They ne'er can offer. A prey, a treasure-trove, thrown by fortune in my way. And by my own surpassing cunning, they are, — a royal treasure-trove. What do I promise myself by vanquishing Roland ? The empty glory alone. That I, the last alive survivor of this fell battlefield of kings. Have crushed the caitiff who vanquished all others? Not that alone, though that is much. But more, much more. Come pause, and reckon the prizes, Malcus, of other kind. Of kingdoms kingless, and thrones left desolate, subjects un-princed and lands unclaimed. Sure such a scene or such a prospect has never in Saracen history Opened its glittering vista to masterly grasping ambition. And to whom else But unto Roland's destroyer, the conqueror of him who conquered all else beside. Shall all these questions be referred to ? — these claims disputed, these dubious crowns ? — royal perquisites of victory ! — Nay, but the subjects of many a king With regal largess will propitiate, or haply e'en offer me a crown As proper meed of triumph. Survivor last am I of all the chiefs To-day — but one more still remaineth, the boorish Sultan of Carthage, but 1 have forestalled him, I have forestalled him. He's missed through folly or ignorance The golden opportunity. Onward let me go to take it." Thus He cried, urging his soldiers forward, himself at their head ; and thus arrived They presently, in full battalions mustered, to where the twain did stand. And thus to them the King of Africa, with leering face and insolent mien, " Ye thought to have escaped assuredly, the battle o'er, forcing your way Through mobs of scattered disorderly soldiers, which all there were around ye. But Lo a new army ! — an army purposely held till now in apt reserve. Niggardly husbanded, with intention to deal ye your destined coup de grace. Roland, thy hour is come. I, Malcus, am by Mahomet's will decreed To be thy captor or thy slayer. Therefore yield thee, to be dragged In fetters at my triumph, or soothly expect the doom that waits the rash And proud presuming. Audacious ! wouldest thou man resistance to the last. And brazen out in desperate courage thy plight forlorn ? Ho! Ho! what work! One man against an army ! Caitiff accursfed, I warn thee well to spare Me more endeavour than I readily am prepared to spend on thee, Lest, not mere death, but cruel retributive torture be pronounced by me As thy chastisement." Thus he shouted insolent, mustering up his troops In bullying battle. " Yield thee ! audacious man, seest thou these hosts of mine Behind me ? Weak and rambling, efforts of thine to resist. E'en I myself, — So primed am I with confidence conscious of might supreme, — would well nigh dare To bait thee single-handed. At very worst, I'm not afraid of thee." Thus cried he advancing each fytte nigher, in amble insolent upon his steed, A royal brown, of port majestic, broad-breasted, round-hipped, with flowing mane, A horse for monarchs, tall and comely, with blaze of white his forehead on. " Thou, poor unaided solitary fool, wherefore this futile stand ? I'll teach thee manners, varlet, and instantly. Here to thy face I threaten thee With pains and penalties for disobedience prolonged. Dost hear me, knave ? What care I for thy threatening gestures ? Thou hast no horse. Thou couldst not catch Me, if thou would." And thus cried Roland unto Oliver : " Bide thou here, And stand before the rock defensive. I'll have that fellow." Saying this. He ran full at him. Straightway startled, off sprang the horse. Unequal race ! CANTO XIX. 165 In a few strides, were it prolong&d, must distance vast have severed them. But ere the strides were taken, Roland caught up, and threw himself upon The horse's haunches, grappling the animal fiercely round as far as arms Would go, digging into his ribs and belly his hands, so that he might Wrench him backward, and stop his tearing gallop which all the while proceeds. Tremendous wrestle ! With ears laid terrified back, and glaring eyes of fear, And red-hot snorting nostrils, the equine combatant, to a standstill brought, Struggles enormous — horse against man. The rider between them disappears, Doubled-up, crushed to mummy, and presently, a flattened lump, falls to the ground. Still wrestle the pair, unheeding, for mastery, which shall conquer. Now rears the horse. Now plunges, but Roland springing into the empty saddle seizes the reins, And burying his spurs, with snaffle wrenchfed around, directs the runaway Right at the thick of the African army. Panic impetuous seized the host ; Pell-mell they fled before him, a scarfed struggling flock across the field. Now rose throughout the length of the valley the cry, " Here comes the terrible man ! Once more he is on horse." Confusion and fear scattered the mobs of men To worse confounding anew ; the army, erst so orderly, ran a mob. Now there were rocks, high and precipitous, forming the left wall of the vale. Enormous buttresses, bottomed with jagged boulders, and rising in terraces Of granite cliif, that yawned divided with chasms oft and fell ravines. Or swept, a constant labyrinth, honeycombed thick with holes and precipice. Here, scarcely witting whither their rambling feet did lead them in their fear, Here blind they fled, with him upon them fast behind, and threatening dire. Arrived, they ran in desperate frenzy all up the rocks, as hoping to Evade his hot pursuit — infatuate thinking that he might refuse To chase them further, but more willingly would turn him to the field anew To ravage those more full exposed unto his anger and his rage. But he behind them galloping fiercly came to the foot of the cliffs, and there Dismounted, and made impetuous after them, scaling the mountain side. Dismay And terror seized the panic-struck Saracens, -now committed to a chase Of desperate danger — before them chasms and precipices, and behind Roland stupendous raging. Bewildered they scrambled and clambered and climbed and ran. Now was a sight seen such as never in battle had e'er been seen before — Men running wildly on dizzy terraces, seeking escape, to find them end In yawning abysses; men in multitudes blackening the sloping mountain-side. Some scrambling onward, some falling backward in trepidation and over-haste. Now there was one great party of Saracens right at whose heels he raging was : In panic they raced before him ; the hindmost men kept falling victims to Incessant carnage ; a trail of continuous dead dotted their forward path. Those in the front, improving their distance by sacrifice of those behind. Ran on, and spying royal refuge — a chasm, down the side of which There wound a path, into its womb a-trending and up the other side. Finishing on the very summit of a precipice-bound crag : Hereon might they, as on an island, repose awhile, and him defy, If he with rashest hardihood ventures up the thin track that led to it — They, down descending and up ascending, so gained the summit, and now ensconced Upon their rocky fastness behold him in the distance, engaged upon The straggling ruck of their party, who, tardy of foot or stumbling, bewildered ran 1 66 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Among the mountains, and fell his easy victims. He now, that work performed. Doth come to the gorge, and see the camp. Faint huzzaings from them arise. As men in safety. He, undelaying, leapt the chasm, and in a thought Was all among them. Panic tumultuous raged, of men by death menaced In forms most horrible, some stabbed, some driven at sword's point backward to th' abyss. Some lifted and hurled sheer over it. Crowding they ran to the pathway, and struggled fierce For access, rolling and tumbling down it, pushed on by strugglers fiercer behind. Others, at sight of him advancing, stagger upon the precipice verge Giddy, and shrieking fall. And many, seeking t' escape him, miss their foot. And plunge down headlong, dashed to pieces, on splintered peaks. Thus was the crag Immediate cleared, and left a-bare of all but Roland. He down the path Pursued his way, not to find victims, but only bodies, dying and dead. The way encumbering. Across the ravine he ran, and up the other side. Emerging total unexpected among a posse of Saracens, Who chas&d fled, running like cats along the terraces of rock. Now larger numbers he alighted on, and doomed to death ; band after band He found bewildered of their bearings amid the network of rifts and crags. Now one destruction, now another he worked on them ; now drave them down Sheer yawning gullies, now raged among them, caught on a sloping mountain-side. Heads, arms, and shoulders the mark promiscuous of his sword — more fearful death Was his than nature's. Timid and quailing they fled before him, avoiding his Portentous presence. And many of them down precipices flung themselves Rather than face his wrath. Thus ragfed he over the mountains, and destroyed Incessant everywhere, till of the panic-stricken army that erst had fled To that fell spot for safety, scarcely but merest few there now was left. 'Twas now it happened that chasing a flying company, well nigh the last one, up A rugged mountain side, he suddenly found himself on a green hill-top. The outermost wall of the valley of Roncesvalles, whence to his eyes there did appear — Delicious prospect ! — in the far distance, the hills and plains of smiling France, While from his feet a smooth declivity led down unto ploughed fields beneath. Back, back he turned, to clamber down the rocks again, and re-address Th' affray, meaning renewed assailaunce t' inaugurate upon the hordes Within the vale, sith on the mountains scarce undestroyed was any left. Thus sped he on alone, for neighbours skulked or were absent from all around. O'er cliffs he went, through rocky arches, and at the innermost hill arrived Began descending its ragged beetling front, whence he descried in full Prospect the valley. Meanwhile the Saracens who had in the vale remained. Disordered mobs, but gaining courage at his long-protracted stay. Had marshalled, the greater part of them, under their sole surviving chief alive. The Sultan of Carthage, who collecting them, to order exhorting thus did cry : "In your bewildered straggling confusion, each man himself a victim makes To one who carries all before him by untold brilliancy of attack, — By nothing more. Would ye confront him, when he assails, with mass, not mob. Vain were his efforts. What could avail him against a serried, determined stand ? But whensoe'er, with lightning onset, he strikes, at once with terror at His first success, ye break, ye fly ; and easy work it is for him All that comes after. Now I array ye, the hope forlorn of this once great And splendid host — ye, its survivors, chiefed by the last survivor, I. CANTO XIX. 167 To contest similar I not invite ye as that in which to-day ye have Again and 'gain been foiled. Another sort of battle I now propose. Where all the odds are in your favour, the danger his and his alone. Down those steep roclss soon will he hie him scaling, returning from his raid Among the mountains. There's but one passage down, there's but one egress from The wall precipitous where he will clamber. Be ours to circumvent it. Be ours To block it up, and hem him in, and, if he should attempt a coup. Crush him, at disadvantage ta'en, by force of numbers. 'Tis the last time, Mayhap, that voice of commander among ye this day may echo in your ears. Obey ye me therefdre. I go to doubtless death, but lead ye on Certain to victory, if ye obey me. Unto it, then ! Time presses, and he Will soon appear." Thus had they marshalled, and' Roland scaling down the cliff Did them espy close-packed in copious hordes at bottom, besetting it. Too he perceived the termination of his aerial road to be — Unlike the facile access that further downward he had ascended by. But lost its bearings in his furious chase o'er chasmed terraces — A cul-de-sac of rock, a veritable square, with narrow mouth, and walls Of squat solidity. This with the Saracens black was filled, and he above Espied no egress other than thither, to right or left of him, and there Egress was none, — so thick they filled it with strong, compacted, serried throng. At once he tore from out its basement a clifF, and hurled it down on them. Crushing it fell, with swarms beneath it. But other swarms came on behind. And stanched the hollow hole. Another cliff he seized, and hurled it down. Again a crowd fell crushed beneath it. As when a man, setting his foot Upon a swarm of ants, doth crush them, so ■'neath the cliffs that Roland hurled Fell crushed the Saracens. But ever others came up continually, and filled Their place. And now the Saracen champions themselves took stones, though smaller ones. And hurled at him. And great confusion arose. Then larger rocks he tore From seated bed, and hurled. And often the stones and rocks in mid air met With splitting crash of uproar. And thicker and ever thicker grew the shower. As when on day of wintry weather the falling snow doth fill the air With whitey flocks, when every whisper of wind hath ceased and the flakes fall thick. Little by little it covers the country, the mountain tops, the spreading plains. The fields, the careful toil of husbandmen, with fleecy white— the harbours and shores. All but the restless wave, which stays it, all else is covered with the snow. So thick, so falling, so incessant, so flew the rocks and stones about. And startled and scared from their nests and eyries, the eagles and other birds of the air Flew overhead, screaming and flapping their wings in terror. And thus thought The birds of the air ■- " Here is uproar indeed. Most terrible is the confusion. Such Is the dashing and crashing of the rocks. Such is the din terrific below." Then did it seem as if the Pyrenseans themselves would not suffice To serve his rage, but torn to pieces would in the awful conflict be. Such rocks he heaved, such cliffs he hurled, so terribly flew his missiles down. Then with a last one most enormous, following it hard himself upon. He leapt with a shout in the midst of his foemen, and straightway rout supreme ensued. 1 68 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. CANTO XX. Then came he following them, but slowly, across the valley from the rocks. Which ran up beetling in mazy buttresses forming in interrupted wall The left escarpment of the vale. 'Twas somewhere on nigh eight o'clock. Nor far from sunset. Already the luminary, slanting from the horizon's verge Its rays, threw lurid gleams betokening a speedy setting. Thus he came Following the foemen, but slowly, the valley across, afrom the ragged rocks. Sadly triumphant. And advancing, in the distance he saw a sight — Oliver, like an abandoned vessel, tossed at the mercy of the waves. Dismasted, rudderless, swinging at random round and round upon the sea. Thus to his eyes, amid the battle seemed Oliver. And hastening on He cried, " Alack ! Some fell disaster my compagnon hath overta'en. Aught in my absence among the mountains hath happed untoward. O woeful sight ! What doth it mean ? See, how he rambleth in frenzied battle about the plain. His wall of fence deserted, incautious, battling at random ! " Thus it had been : The fell Abime, the Ethiop general, survivor one of few of wrecked Battalion, with others like him, a chosen band, had skulked in fear all through The battle, till Roland departing gave them the liberty they craved. And thus Had cried Abime unto the Saracens fencing Sir Oliver at his rock : " All day, all night may ye in futility waste your efforts. A plan is mine To rid us of this cursfed caitiff, while that his blustering brother is Away marauding." Then had he planted some Saracen soldiers by threats compelled And imprecations to fence with Oliver, feign retreat, and thus entice Him out afrom the rock a trifle. " The rest is mine," thus had he cried. " His body-armour in rags and tatters broken hangs behind his back. Let me but get, but for an instant, between his wall of rock and he, I'll answer for him." And thus cried others, " Yea, but these men whom thou deput'st To tease him on to ardent conflict, will all be slain." " What matters it," Thus cried Abimfe, " so that our plant succeeds ? " Thus was it then arranged. And he with chosen Ethiopians flat on their bellies skulked in the grass. As when a royal stag a-grazing at ease amid a verdant chase. All unsuspicious crops the herbage : meanwhile deer-stalkers in the grass. Keeping to leeward always, approach it. The noble beast now clips the sward. Now sniffs the breeze ; and spieth scarecrows some distance off set up in front. So was Sir Oliver's attention arrested by the actions strange Of foes in front. That instant behind him up sprang Abimfe and his band. So quick turned Oliver, that of the daggers up-raised to strike him, Abime's alone Did reach its mark. With terrible backhand, Oliver brought his whirling sword Crash on the Saracen's helmet. The diamonds that studding it glittered, spirted up Alike a fountain. The miscreant cloven to the jaws fell dead on earth. Then Oliver bleeding and wounded sorely, fought on amain with those in front. The faster his life's blood ebbed, the fainter his mighty' strength did feel, so he The fiercer waxSd. And reckless becoming, all caution cast to wind, advanced Full at them, reeling and battling desperate in fearful conflict about the plain. CANTO XX. J 69 At random whirled his sword ; at candom he staggered and made at every and all. Promiscuous smiting, missing, staggering, tripping, and stumbling tipsywise. Whom Roland with hurried footstep met. But Oliver discerned him not. So fast the blood had poured from him, his eyes were darkened, he could not see ; And knowing a neighbour, he brandished his glittering sword, and brought it down on the helm Of Roland. Weak stroke ! that only scattered the feathers of the plume. As when One blowing into a heap of feathers, a puff of feathers out doth fly'; Or as a child in fields, with feathery ball of down of dandelion. Holding the stalk, doth blow it, and fluffy down doth fly. So Oliver At his best strength struck out some feathers. And Roland taking him by the arm. Cried, "Oliver, brother, dost thou not know me? 'Tis I,— I, Roland, thy dearest friend." " I hear thee," said Oliver replying, " but I cannot see thee. If I Have struck at thee, my friend, forgive me." Then Roland holding his stumbling form. Steadied him much, and held him closely. And now the Saracens came round, Assailaunce ceased upon them, and taunted with curses and ribald jests the pair. "See, see," they cried, "the twain together— one the destroyer of our host. And one his brother, the sole survivors of their fair army, as we of ours. Yet can we boast superiority, though both the armaments alike Are wrecked to pieces, and we, but rabble, here remain to vaunt of it. The victory is ours for certain. Triumph by numbers goes. And we Can count some hundreds still ; the other side have dwindled down to two." And thus cried other Saracen soldiers, " And what a two ! The skulking knaves ! One on the other's arm a-leaning. God's mercy ! What combatants are here ? What pair of fighters ! What pair of ninnies ! And see at the stouter one, how he reels. Gramercy ! he'd be down for certain, if t'other didn't hold him up." And thus cried others, " Good friends, excuse him. Excuse the stout man his many trips And stumbles perpetual. Know ye the secret? He's been at a gin shop hard a-by. Boozing in intervals of battle. Sometimes we saw him in the field, Sometimes we missed his rubicund visage, and now we know the reason o' 't." And thus cried others, " Nay ! ye're romancing. How could he think to leave the fight He loved so well, and waste his energies drinking far off in village inn? No, no ! but other shift he's resorted to, for to sate his craving. Primed With jolly flask of royal liquor, he entered the fight, and all day long Has taken pulls at it. Hence his condition." Thus they taunted with jests obsoene The wounded Oliver, who, fearfully streaming with blood, tripped, staggered, and stumbled about, Held up by Roland. As when a drunkard in city's streets is late at night By friend led hiccupping homeward, who taking his arm doth keep good care of him. When that they come to streets and neighbourhood where he is known, then doth the friend Take tighter hold, and much admonish him to keep his feet, and pull himself Together, telling him— vain admonition !— that here the people know him well. So did Roland lead about the drunkard Oliver, so did he Bid him hold up. And thus the Saracen soldiers in mirth renewed did cry : " See at the stout one, how he staggereth ! Now he pitcheth forward, now He tumbleth backward. Were not the muscular arm of his friend to keep hira up. Flat he'd be down for certain. Brothers, we talked of two surviving Franks Just now, but certes, if truth be kept to, there's but one and a half of them. Look at the staggering rogue ! In a moment, he'll not be worth the reckonmg in. And one survivor out of their blustering band alone will face us. The 170 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Victory's ours for certain. Triumph by numbers goes — at least it ought To do ; no other showing possible. Hip, hip, huzzah ! For here are we Who count by hundreds still ; the Prankish caitiffs cannot reckon two. Since that same staggering wounded bully, he'll go for nothing in a while." And many echoing with uproarious shouts their words, cried, " Hip, huzzah ! Hip, hip, huzzah ! A jolly victory have we won. Cheer up, then, mates. Prizes and rich rewards await us, whene'er we hie us back to Spain." But thus cried other Saracen soldiers, taking them up, " Ye silly clowns ! Hold ye your bragging tongues. Not prizes or rich rewards will be your lot For victory, but rather punishment, surely wreaked and much deserved. For fell disasterous damned defeat, which we alone survive to tell. Mad are ye, men, to talk of victory, when under your noses ye see alive Him for whose capture and destruction the whole great host was set afoot. Him, the sole object of the marshalling of this once teeming army fair. What said the Caliph when we started — ' All goes for nothing if Roland lives.' What said to us the Sultan of Carthage, our last surviving chief on the field. Who us harangued, ere, shortly after, he fell at the Battle of the Rocks, * That victory was no victory, triumph no triumph, and all our labour lost. If Roland 'scaped our killing. His life sealed victory to the Franks.' Ye know The truth on 't. Blink not the knowl.edge. Roland our aim was. There he stands. There standeth he, still strong, invincible. And there is like to ever stand For ye and your endeavours. Never a pitiful finger would you put out, *Ye bragging rogues, to 'tempt his killing, though crowns and kingdoms his death doth mean. Go on, and face him ; or cease your bumptious boasts of l^ictory for good and all." Then thus their neighbours cried, " A truce to ye ! An we cannot strike at him. Yet can we have the weaker one. Something of glory there'll be in that, sith he's The second best at all events. Sour grapes the t'other. Come at his pal." Thus cried they advancing with swords and halberds, seeking, with safety to themselves, To strike the helpless Oliver. Roland, throwing before his brother dear The vasty round of shield enormous, foiled them quite to hurt of him. Nor did they care to come too closely. Like one protecting a little child. Weak, helpless, innocent, from injury, Roland protected Oliver. Then thus the Saracens, " Nay, our gallant giveth too much a heed unto His mate, for us from our endeavour, most strenuous though it be, to reap Aught but discomfort. But come, good brothers, what say you to this ? Since he attends So much unto his friend, but little leisure hath he to mind himself. What say you to assault him hardy, and both together to overpower? " Thus said they, their desires expressing, but not their will; and mustering up In bullying battle, they stood half-hearted around in crowds. And thus they cried, " Come on ! " but moved not — " Have at them ! " but stirred not. Yet did they menace The twain, with shouts and angry uproarious cries of vengeance and chagrin [terribly In mob promiscuous crowding. As when two litde children, hand in hand. Do roam in place of deadly danger, so seemed Roland and Oliver Amid the Saracens. " See, see ! Why cannot we make at them and have them down ? Helpless they are, bereft of comrades, while we in hundreds crowd around. What might resides in numbers ! Why cannot we, brothers, make the effort for 't ? Helpless they are, alone, bereft of comrades — and see ! see ! one of them falls." For at this instant Oliver, fainting from loss of blood, fell heavily CANTO XX. 171 Down dead to earth. "Now! one of them's done for. Now for the other!" "Beware, beware ! " Thus crifed others ; " The tiger relieved from charge of his wgakling whelp, will now Soon show his teeth. Back ! back ! beware ye of him that remains ! That is the one Of all the army — the man most terrible. Spare to provoke him." And others cried Amid the hubbub, " There he standeth, surviving the wreck of all things round. There standeth he, the fell, insuff'rable plague, destroyer of our host. Mark him, but move him not to onset. Most terrible is his awn, mbst fell His fearful ravage, which now released and left at liberty to act. From charge of other frefed, instantly, if that he mindeth loo, will he Wreak hot upon us, offering, insatiate, holocausts, up to bloody death." And thus cried others, " Draw from off him, and leave alone the terrible man. Spare to approach him. Spare to provoke him." Then drew they all away, and in A circle at a distance standing, crowded thick. Their glaring eyes He saw around — continuous circuit ! — where rage and terror mixed their lights. And both blazed sparkling. As when a kingly lion, beleaguered by a press Of timid shepherds, stands defiant with head erect and shaggy mane. Waiting an onset. They with bludgeons and stones assail him from afar. Their puny missiles he regardeth no more than cherry-stones. There he stands, Haughtily curious, all a-bristling in wrath to doom the first foe down. So stood among the Saracens Roland. Did he a foot advance at them. They foot receded. Did he, receding, a foot retire, they foot advanced. Thus stood they each expectant. At last the motley mob of Saracens, Weak army refuse, marked him, with timorous joy, disdainful of a broil. And through their mouths their rage a-venting, with curses and execrations cried : " Sith we not dare to force a combat with this man lion-like and huge, For fear lest ravening destruction assail us from his arm, and we To one, to none destroyed, annihilate, perish crushed beneath his rage ; What can we do but curse and be done with him ?— poor motley straggling handful crew, The relics of the fairest army that eyer marshalled in the world. Curses upon thee, thou fell destroyer, for devastating and laying low All that is good, all that is valiant throughout the mighty Saracen worid 1 Curse thee for slaughtering our Caliph ! curse thee for killing of our kings I Cursfed be thou I and may these curses Asmodeus and Mahound confirm ! The King of Afric, the King of Indy, the King of Ethiop, the King of Fez, The King of Seville, the King of Granada-^and may these curses Mahound confirm ! The Prince of Serail, the Prince of Cyprus, the Prince of Tunis, the Prince of Val, The Prince of Algiers — and may these curses Asmodeus and Mahound confirm ! The chosen champions that fell before thee, the valiant warriors that bit the dust. For them accursfed be thou for ever !— and may these curses Mahound confirm ! Fair was the army that came this morning in royal conclave unto the vale; Black-blasted refuse of it accurse thee— and may these curses Mahound confirm ! For all the nobles, and all the emirs, and all the chieftains, and all the knights. That fell before thee, be thou accursed !— and may these curses Mahound confirm ! For total ruin, for utter wrecking of host the fairest that sun did see, For these and all things be thou accursfed !— and may these curses Mahound confirm I For every brave man that bowed before thee, for every gallant that kissed the dust. Accursed thou ! be thou accursed I— and may these curses Mahound confirm I 172 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Ah, curse thee, Roland, thou man of thunder, thou scourge of Allah's great chosen race ! In foolish moment we thought to slay thee — cursfed be thou who livest still ! 'Tis we destroyed, 'tis we confounded, 'tis we uprooted, rased, exterminate ; 'Tis thou who triumph'st o'er our destruction — cursfed be thou for aye and aye ! " Then turning round, each to the other thus spoke, " Let us not tarry here Aught longer, but leave this fearful battlefield, tidings to bear of death and woe. Of Christian triumph, of our disaster, unto our countrymen in Spain. Let us not longer here be-tarry, but leave him, as he doth_desire It likely, master of the scene. No gain for us in staying here." And thus cried others, " Ere we departing leave him conqueror allowed. Brothers, we've weapons in our hands yet undischarged, we've javelins. We've darts abundant. Let us retiring to a distance, give him a last Good shower incessant, if luck or fortune favouring, or heaven. We may Deal accidental death unto him." Thus 'twas agreed, and to a long Distance retiring, they plied their missiles. In showers and clouds the missiles came. And rained on Roland. He amid them, standing the same, with shield upheld Stood close protected. Still played the arrowy hail of darts in sheets upon His shield and armour. As when upon the tiles of close-investing roof Patters a hailstorm : rattling and dancing, the arrowy hailstones rain on the tiles. Meanwhile the people within, safe housed, warm and comfortable bestowed. Reck not the storm. So Roland, housfed in penthouse armoured, defied it. As when a man is overtaken, while travelling o'er an open plain. By sudden storm of rain, and spying a tree puts up for shelter there. Down pelts the rain. Tbe lonely traveller standeth awhile beneath his tree. Clothfed so well is he however, so hardy a man, that, an he list. Right willingly would he face the shower ; but still he tarries 'neath the tree. Because the place whereto he travels is one he hath no liking for. Nor careth much to reach it. Like swishing rain about his feet, such was The whish of the javelins round Roland ; so he stood, a lonely man. Still pelted the arrowy storm incessant, still came the rain of missiles on. Until at last from very weariness cessation came; and thus among The Saracens, pausing some, and others preparing once more to ply their darts. Spoke an old Saracen unto them : " Brothers, harken unto me. Man of flesh shall never compass it to slay him. Why stand we dawdling here ? Let us give one last shower, and leave him,^eave him in time, lest he, incensed At our annoyance, advance upon us. Good luck has held him back thus far. Away, and save our lives ! and leave him disputeless master of the field." Thereon they all discharged together their bolts, and fled from out the vale. And Roland saw the ragged scanty crowd diminishing, as they left The vacant valley, and the last Saracen behind the passes disappear. And he was left alone. 'Twas growing twilight now — the sun had well Nigh sunk to rest. Only with parting beams it flung transparency Athrough the darkening air. Then took he two or three turns up and down. And pausing a moment he heard the splashy gurgle of the rippling brook Beneath the slope behind him, babble and brawl aloud upon the air Amid the silence. Thitherward slowly he turned his steps, and down the slope He went, unfastening of his helmet-strap, that from the hollow bowl He might drink water. So to the rivulet purling o'er the stones, he took CANTO XX. 173 His way. 'Twas at the hour when vespers summon monks to prayer, and bells Chime sweet for service, and they assembled in chapel dim their prayers repeat ; 'Twas at that hour that Roland walked, the battle o'er, adown the slope. Then drank he water. And upwards coming, he slowly walked, and gaining now The topmost grass of the declivity, stood on the field once more. And thus He crifed : " Great fatigue oppresses me. Weariness sore hath laid its hand Upon me, so that I even must die. No longer is life a thing to me Of sweetness or desire, because of this great fatigue that overwhelms My total being. To draw the breezes, to feel the currents of life within Play longer on, to look at objects, to feel myself asunder from Material nature — that care I not for longer now. So tired am I, I long for something to give delivery unto me from this fell fatigue. I will to die, that such delivery may come to me. The body tells The soul that loves it, that further labour it flincheth from. The soul in grief Accedes replying, and releaseth its weary lover from further woe. Then cometh rest. Nought other prospect — all, all is gathered in that word. All my ambition clustereth round the sweet delight it promiseth. Thought's, thought's horizon, can I discover one single speck in thy confine, That speaks of other wanted issue than rest, than rest, for ever rest ? Eternal toiling of the battle, perpetual beating of the fray, I here indemnify thee fairly by as eternal sweet repose. I've won it; 'tis hard wrung desert. And to enjoy it now ! O God, That grantest to us puny mortals the sweet vicissitudes of sleep And labour, well hath thy omniscient kindness foreknown our needs. To fight. To fight, to battle, but not for ever — and, when 'tis over, then to rest. There's unreproachfed manhood. For who'll deny the labourer his wage ? Now, now, to take it. Come, sweet condition of nothingness, come, fairy state, Come, dear repose of deep tranquillity, dear to my soul and body, come." Then looked he around, and hearing the jingling clank of his rapier as he turned. He drew it and looked at it. Durandal was a royal blade; — its steel Of exquisite temper; its guard, of flashing brass; its grasp, of golden wire Stout interlaced, as soft as satin. Its pommel an opal was, divine. Wherein there blazfed lambent the fiery flame of the carbuncle, the fine Refulgent purple of the amethyst, in motley mixture, and a whole Sea of the emerald's green glory. Thus held he it up, and looked at it. " This is the last time you and I," thus said he observing it, " shall fight Together. Many the noble battle that you and I in fellowship Have braved together. Rare adventures have we had, and neither yet Has failed the other. But this is the last one. Our last engagement has been fought. Our term of duty's over. Durandal, what sayest thou to this, that thou No more in Roland's hand shalt glitter amid the fight ? What say'st thou to 't ? " Thus held he it up, his blade accosting in fancied parley ; and in the dim And deepening twilight it glittered beaming. From Durandal spangles fell. As when one shaking a box of gold-dust sifts the shining pouncet down, So fell sparkles and spray of spangles from Durandal. And Roland cried. As he observed it, " Aye I little woman, 'tis true the tale I tell to thee. No more shall we good friends together in battle buffet it again. Dost know my grasp ? Dost know my passes ? Aye ! and dost second them. ODurandil! 174 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. O Durandil, O Durandana, my pretty maid, — no more ! no more ! No more shall we good friends together blaze like the lightning in the fight. No more shall we, through squadrons rushing, dart, fly in whirlwind all about. Tempestuous elements of havoc ! — you, you, and I !^-0 DurandM ! DurandM, O Durandana — no more, my pretty maid, no more ! What say'st thou to 't, my bonny falchion ? " From Durandal spangles fell. And thus cried Roland, " We do sever, the mates of a most glorious past. Were I and you to stand recounting the noble deeds we've wrought, why then Suns mighten rise and sink above us for weeks before we'd done, my girl. • Dost thou remember of this adventure? ' ' Dost thou remember of that exploit ? ' ' Dost thou remember, when desperation stark stared us in the face, and we Triumphant foiled it ? ' Thus would it be, if you and I on olden times Fell to unbosoming. What scenes ! what glories ! what tales were ours ! " Then he Paced backwards and forwards a while, and holding his sword before him thus he cried : " Sword, sword, my sword, my beautiful Durandana, trusty blade. With thee have I made my name, my self. With thee to aid me, have I in fight Crushed opposition with never-failing hand, because it held in 't thee. And shall I let thee go, my girl ? Durandana, with thee have I Contested and won the great pre-eminence, which twenty years has been my name-^ Captain of Europe. With thee have I conquered for our great Emperor, leading his hosts, Spain, Germany, Flanders, Denmark, and the fair land of Italy, Upsetting hosts with thee to aid me, taking castles, and storming towns. Everywhere hast thou been with me. Trusty falchion, I cannot let thee go. 1 cannot lose thee — we've been acquainted too long for that. My mood it is To seek the rest which death shall bring me upon the battle-field. This sword — I had forgat it — but to-morrow when prowling pillagers come about. To rifle the valuables and jewels which in profusion lie around. This sword will scarce escape the prying eye of clown or miscreant. But as it hangeth at my baldric, or lieth by me on the ground, He'll pull it from its sheath, examine it, and, finding it a royal bla4e, Become proprietor. And henceforth Durandal's his. My sword ! — my sword ! — What ? shall it decorate the person of lousy knave, some arrant coward. Who knoweth not or how to wield it or by his touch the hilt defiles ? Shall such a fate as this await it ? No, never ! but I'll smash it first." Thus crying, he looked about him hurriedly, and spying a boulder of porphyry. Went up to it, and thus he muttered, " No hand but mine, gentle or base. The hand of gentleman, the hand of peasant, Saracen hand, or Christian hand, — All's one to me whoe'er it be, — no hand but mine shall touch my sword. The remedy 's a hard one. Necessity of not a common kind doth make Me take a measure, which most unwillingly would I see played on any sword. Much less on mine. But there — 'tis better, in such a case, that such should be." Thus saying, he lifted his sword aloft, and brought it down full force on the rock. It shivered wriggling, and, as surprised he looked on it, grew steady, then still. " Hey ! What ? Durandal? What 's this, my beauty ? Not break, eh? And your edge not turned ? " Thus cried he, critically inspecting, and trying with his thumb the edge. " Why, then, I couldn't have struck thee hard enough. Another stroke I'll try. And now. Poppet, I'll murder thee." Thus saying, a second time he lifted to its height the sword. CANTO XX. 17s And with immense strength whirling it, brought it down crash on the boulder rock. Like an eel Durandal wriggled, waved, and got still again. Then he Cried, " Eh ? What a splendid sword thou art ! I never knew thy virtue full Until this moment. Now that I look a* thee by benefit of what I've seen, I do admire thee, if that were possible, twice more than ever, and spy out NevM points of beauty and r6bust symmetry in thy so lovely blade. But that Doth only make me more determined no man alive shall get at thee. No ! thou'rt too precious for that. Durandal, thou'rt too good for them. To look At thee 's to love thee dearer, and, loving thee dearly so, to ratify To fixed decision my purpose on thee." From Durandal spangles fell. " Aye, thou may'st pray me. But necessity and thy advantage moves me on. My pretty dear, my little sweetheart, I cannot leave thee when I am gone. I cannot leave thee all unbefriended to still remain in the world alone. For fear lest others may base abuse thee, for fear to others thou fall a prey. Who making common of thee misuse thee, and soil audacious thy purity. Who wants his sweetheart be rendered common ? Who'd have her bandied from hand to hand ? So I with thee too. Mine own thou art now. And other's none shalt ever be. No hand but mine shall grasp, encasing, that firm solidity, thy hilt. No eye but mine shall see thy glittering laughter as thou wav'st in air. Christian nor Paynim shall ever paw thee, my dear. So, little girl, I go To put an end to thee entirely. This time I'll prove thy match, be sure. No getting out of it this time. Now, now, good bye to thee ! " As thus He spoke, he brandished it terribly in the air, and, putting out all his strength, With force terrific brought it whizzing down on the rock. Right through the rock It went, cutting it clean in half. As when one, pressing on a knife. Slices an apple, so Durandal sliced the slab of rock in two. And thus cried Roland smiling on it, "Well, well. 'Tis all no good, I see. Thou won't be damaged. Thou won't take it. Come, come, my dear, arid other things We'll have a mind for. The hour is growing late, and twilight spreads its dim And dusky shadows about the valley. The sun has sunk. And now 'tis time To rest. I have in vain gainsayfed thee. Thou wilt not go away from me. Sith therefore thou won't take denying, my sweet, shalt come to bed with me." Thus saying, he look&d carefully round him, and having selected a proper spot, Walked slowly and leisurely thither. And smoothing first the grass out with his hand, Laid down his sword there. Then unbuckUng the straps of his helmet, and loosening The leathern thongs that bound his golden gorget around his neck, to give Him ease and comfort, he knelt, and longways on the grass arranged his sword. Through all the valley silence profoundest reigned ; and scarce a whispering wind Came to disturb the quiet. The twilight, dimly transparent, filled the air. Then laid he down himself, completely spread above his sword to be. Then did he shut his eyes, and hitching his horn round so that it might lie Upon his breast, and so disposing himself that his face might turned be Towards the Saracen host, he nestled over on his right side, and lay. As a rose folding her leaves for the evening, so lay Roland upon the field. Now there was silence throughout the valley about the space of half an hour Not, not a sound was heard, save only should haply every now and then Some solitary peewit whimper in lonely flight about the vale. 176 THE DEATH OF ROLAND. Thus was it for full half hour or longer — not, not a sound ; when far away There came the distant, faint, and dying echoes of a trumpet blast. Wafted by wind into the vale. As bells whose muffled harmony Falls faint and covered, so the muffled tones of trumpets moved the air. Then grew it silence again profoundest, — profounder still by what had come Erst now to break it, which distinctly, though far away, had fanned the air, So silent was it. Deep tranquillity, stillness great, set in again. And lasted. Another long half hour passed silent by. When suddenly. Close to, rose, crashed, and echoed a blast of trumpets on the air. Then came the noise of bridles jingling, and horses galloping, and shouts of men, And Charlemagne, Duke Naimes, Rinaldo, King Salomon, and hosts behind. Galloped in concourse into the valley. The moonshine showed them the total field, And all its dispositions. Before them lay Roland dead — the first to come Upon and descry ; and counter-facing him, all through the valley long, The wrecked Saracen host. Then Naimo lifted his voice, and cried aloud, " Woe, woe I woe, woe ! for what we see." And others with him cried, " Woe, woe ! " " Nay, not so, gentlemen," said Charlemagne. " Here he lies indeed, but on A bed of glory — the whole of Arabia at his feet, the Saracen world Crushed and stamped out beneath him. Not for centuries, if for ever, will They them recover from the blow that this day they have here received. The Paynim power with all its vassalage, the dread of Christendom, the great Globe's'scourge and terror, has ceased to exist." Thus they conferring together spoke. THE END. LONDON : PRINTED BY POPLETT & TAYLOR, 43, BEECH STREET, CITY, By the same Author. Demy 8vo. cloth gilt. pp. xx. and 342 — 645 — 625. price 54s. A HISTORY OF MUSIC. In Three Volumes. With upwards of one thousand musical illustrations. OOlsTTEnSTTS : BOOK I. PreMstoric Music Introduction, in which is established the succession of the three forms of Musical Instrument, the Drum, the Pipe, and the Lyre, in the order named, as the law of the development of musical instruments in Prehistoric times. (This is published as a paper in the Journal of the Anthropological Institute, May, 1881.) Chapter I. Treats of the origin of music, the first essays at musical instruments among savage man, the invention of the Drum, the Musical Religions of savage races. Drum Worship, the structure of the Drum among various uncivilised peoples. Chapter II. The Horn and the Flute considered as the leading types of wind instruments. The structure of the Horn. The Magic Horn- of the Rain Makers. The Flute and its history. A Fantasia on the Cave Men. The syrinxes, whistles, pipes of savage nlan. Chapter III. The origin of Song. The development of Song from Speech. The natural history of the Scale and its gradual development in Prehistoric Times. The songs of the Australians, Esquimaux, North American Indians, Polynesians, &c. Chapter IV. The beginnings of stringed instruments. The Lyre and the Lute. The first appearance of harmony. The Lyre, the instrument of the barbarians. The barbarians and their bards. The music of the ancient Scythians and other repre- sentative barbarians, with the transition to historical times. BOOK II. The Music of the Elder Civilisations, and the Music of the Greeks. Chapter I. The Egyptians. Music in Egypt during the iSth and 19th dynasties. The instruments of the Egyptian Orchestra. The Great Harp of the 19th dynasty. A chronological history of Egyptian music, dynasty by dynasty, from the times of Menes to the times of the Ptolemies. The music of the Temples. Chapter II. The Assyrians and Hebrews. The war music of the Assyrians. The Assyrian instruments contrasted with the Egyptian. The mystical conception of music among the Chaldeans. Music and Astrology. The Seven Planets and the Seven Tones. The Assyrian Dulcimers. The orgies of Babylon. \ The Hebrews. The minstrel poets. The prophets. The form of the Hebrew music, elucidated by an analysis of the poetry. The Hebrew music at the time of David. The cultivation of music in the Schools of the Prophets. Rabbinical traditions, &c. Chapter III. The Music of the Chinese and other Mongoloids. The Chinese Scale of Nature. Xhe Scale of the Seven Substances. The music of gongs, bells, &c. Legends of the origin of music in China. The music of the Burmese, Siamese, Japanese, Javans, &c., in the same manner. The music of the ancient Mexicans and Peruvians. Chapter IV. The Ancient Aryans, with an account of music during the Vedic times in India. Chapter V. The Music of the Greeks. Proceeding to elucidate the Greek music by an analysis of the poetry, the writer has considered its development through the following representative exponents : — through Homer, Archilochus, Sappho, Alcseus, Anacireon, Stesichorus, Ibycus, Simonides, Bkcchylides to Pindar. As side lights to this march of development, the following subjects are treated — the rise of the Enharmonic style, the growth of the Modes, the reforms of Terpander, the inventions of the various musical instruments, the Greek dances, the music of social gatherings and. private life. Chapter VI. The Music of the Greeks, (continued.) The narrative by retrogression passes to the time of Pythagoras. The Musical Guild or Brotherhood of Pythagoras is discussed, its customs and regulations. The discoveries of Pythagoras. His discoveries of the ratios of the Consonances, the Monochord, &c. His organisation of the Greek musical system. His mysticism. The Musical Pro- portions of the Elements. The Musical Construction of the Universe. The Harmony of the Spheres. The Music of Nature, of birds, &c. Chapter VII. The Music of the Greeks, (continued.) In this chapter the musical theories of Plato are discussed, and the music of social life at Athens during his time. The Greek Tragedy of the preceding era, i.e. of Sophocles and ..^schylus, is exhaustively dealt with, and its aspect established as the pro- genitor of the Modern Opera. BOOK III. The Decline of Paganism and tlie Dark Ages. In Chapter I. the languishing of Greek Music under Euripides and Agathon is treated, and its declining fortunes pursued to the age of the Attic Orators. Chapter II. opens in the Schools of Alex- andria, and the mathematic conception of music under Euclid and his followers briefly treated. In Chapter III. which passes to Rome in the Imperial Times, the performances of the Pantomimes are treated at length, the rise of the Organ, the music of the early Christians, the singing in the catacombs, &c. Chapter IV. traces the growth of Chris- tian Music, the reforms of Ambrose, ttie Byzantine Music in the times of Justinian and Theodora, the reforms and labours of Gregory, his collection of Christian Song, and organisation of the Gregorian System. Chapter V. is occupied with a discussion of the Gregorian Musicial Notation, in its relation of parentage to that of modern times. Chapter VI. deals with the spread of the Gregorian Song under Charlemagne, the mu- sical systems of Alcuin and others, the en- dowment and establishment of Song Schools throughout Europe by Charlemagne. BOOK IV. The Middle Ages, the Arabians, and the Troubadours. Chapter I. Music in the Monasteries. The illumination of Musical MSS. The mu- sical studies of the Monks. The Services of the Canonical Hours. The Bells, their casting, chimes, &c., legends and superstitions attached to them. The Musical Forms in use at the time in Europe. Chapter II. The Musical Mummeries of the Middle Ages ; the Feast of Asses, the Pope of Fools, the Boy Bishop. The growth of the Popular music. The dances of the peasants. The development of Harmony under Hucbald, and of Rhythmical music under Franco of Cologne. The labours of the Organ Builders, the growth of the Organ, * the toy organs of Pope Gerbert. Guido d' Arezzo and his system. The Wandering Minstrels. The introduction of the Violin through Spain from the Arabians. Chapter III. The influence of the Arabians on the music of the Middle Ages. Bagdad. Music at the Court of the Caliphs. The music of private lire in the time of Haroun-al-Raschid. The Arabian Musical System. The Arabian Lute and Violin. The Arabian music in Spain. Music in the Alcazar and the Alhambra under the Moorish Kings. The music of the Spanish chivalry. The Spanish troubadours. Chapters IV, and V. The Troubadours. LONDON : TRUBNER & CO,, LUDGATE HILL." PRESS OPINIONS. Spectator. To all who wfll /ollow the ingenious author in his patient efforts " to piece music together bit by bit," we can promise an ample fund of curious and ' interesting information, set forth in a style that is always picturesque and animated, and rises at times to an eloquence bom of the writer's unquenchable enthusiasm for his subject. The chapters on the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Hebrews are marked by such a happy blending of painstaking research, close reasoning, and effective illustration as renders them truly delightful reading. Mr. Rowbotham writes like a scholar; but the width of his culture and his strong sense of humour save him from any academic formalism. Such a combination of qualities, rare anywhere, doubly rare in an English writer on music, compels our attention and admiration. This fascinating work is lit with that fine enthusiasm which cannot fail to infect and sthnulate a sympathetic reader. Saturday Review. We feel certain that no one will be disposed to complain of Mr. Rowbotham's History of Music on the score of incompleteness. The author has given bis readers all that human research affords in connexion with the subject on which he writes. He is a pleasant com- panion, possessed of a lively style, well suited to the matter under investigation. No one, we feel sure, will think that time has been wasted in reading this very interesting- and learned work. Contemporary Review. Rowbotham's History of Music is able, interesting, and well on line with latest findings of philosophy and science. The writer's dis- cussion of races has as much ethnological as musical value, and in particular maybe mentioned extraordinary insight into the social condition of Egypt's helpless millions, while he has the clearest criticism of the religious virtues and artistic failings of the Hebrews, It is rare to meet with n. work of such fresh, honest, and enlightened thought. Daily News. Mr. Rowbotham's work appears not only interesting to all lovers of music, the most popular of the arts, but to every student of human history and progress. The book deserves to be earnestly recommended to all who care for that entrancing study, the study of human evolution, of man slowly opening from the bud into the blossom of civilisation. Daily Telegraph. The book is an excellent one, which no lover of melody and its science can afford to overlook. Morning Post. This highly important work may fairly claim the first place, by reason of its thorough research, its comprehensive scope, and its amplitude of detail. For the ripe scholar rather ihan the budding student is it suited. It partakes in no degree of the nature of a musical instruction book, and is intended for nothing but what its title fairly indicates. We may truly say that it should be carefully studied by those who look for the improvement of the English School of Music. Graphic. Rowbotham's history of Music is without doubt the standard work on the subject. Westminster Review. There is plenty of room for a work like Mr. Rowbotham's. He has shown great industry in searching out every authority, English and foreign, bearing even indirectly on his subject, and there is much to interest and instruct both antiquarians and musicians. Scotsman. Mr. Rowbotham has brought to the task before him high classical scholarship, together with the fruits of much research in the libraries of England and the Continent, and the thorough knowledge of a practised musician. His style is lively and varied, with odd turns reminding us of Jean Paul, and sentimentalisms suggesting Michelet. Altogether, his work is destined to take a high place among literati and scientific treatises. We find it no easy task to give an impression of the power and complete- ness with which the the subject of Music is treated in these volumes, the recondite allusions, the philosophical hints, the fresh human interest. Even desultory readers will recognise this History as the most important achievement in its special domain of recent years. It is the work of a man of singularly varied talent and acquirement, a wide scholar, and a thorough musician. No one who is interested in the subject can afford to be without this book. Pall Mall Gazette. We have something like a history of music at last. Mr. Rowbotham's history is entirely different from and superior to anything which has precededit. The theories advanced are plausible, fascinating, and supported with remarkable ingenuity, learning, and research. The literary style challenges special attention. Mr. Rowbotham at times, frankly goes in for fine writing, but it does not misbecome him, as it would a less imaginative author. World. An excellent work — full of erudite and interesting information. Court and Society Review. Among other tasks Mr. Rowbotham has set himself the tremendous one of revealing the laws which presided at the origin of music, and of tracing its gfrowth at a time when Europe was peopled by savages who hunted the mammoth and the reindeer. His theory of the origin and growth of the scale ' is marvellously ingenious. His division of the races of the earth into * Pipe Races ' and ' Lyre Races ' is a distinct addition to human thought. The whole wojk is of quite an uncommon order of merit, manifesting wide culture and a brilliant imagination. Figaro. , A singularly fine and valuable work, which shows immensity of research. Most interesting is the account of music in the Middle Ages, of the popular songs of Europe, of* the Wandering Minstrels, of the Arabian Music at the court of the Caliphs of Bagdad. The subject treated in these volumes from first to last, is a vast one, and it opens up almost limitless possibilities in the hands of this most interesting historian. ^ PRESS OPINIONS. Bazaar, Exchange and Mart. Rowbotham's History of Music is a beautiful fabric, spun and woven out of the scenic debris of vanished, silent ages. Of unreality there is not -a particle in its pages. Of bright and prophetic fancy, flashing like glimpses of sunlight, illuminating circumstances and facts hitherto clothed in darkness, there is abundance. The book -will not only be sought by scholars, to whom as a work of reference it is indispensable, nor only by musicians — who must read it, in sheer terror of exposure in reg^ard to their possible ignorance of some unconsidered aspect of the art they profess — but it is also a book for the general reader, not excluding even the insatiable devourer of romance. Liverpool Mercury. A new light has arisen in musical history. The exhaustion of the subject might have been considered as well nigh accomplished in the \ histories of Burney and Hawkins — both works of the last century. But Mr. Rowbotham takes new ground at the very outset. His theories are sufficiently startling, but are all cleverly, graphically, and logically reasoned out. The work should be received with that reverence and read with that interest which so much research deserves. Manchester Examiner. It is written in a style, the vigour, fluency, and lucidity of which would prove a sufficing attraction, even were the matter less intrinsically interesting than it is. In short, Mr. Rowbotham has produced not merely a History of Music, but the History of Mus^c, for though in the course of years his facts may be supplemented and his speculations modified, all additional superstructures must rest upon the foundation which is so solidly laid in these volumes. Birmingham Daily Gazette. Mr. Rowbotham brings to his task a wide range of endowments, such as is seldom met with in any writer. Not only is he a master of Latin and Greek, and of every modern European language, not excepting such out-of-the-way ones as Spanish, Portuguese, and Dutch ; but he is equally conversant with Hebrew and Arabic— and by tfiese varied resources at his command has been enabled to shed a flood of light from all quarters on his difficult and intricate subject. Bookseller. The style is unusual, suggest- ing the simplicity of Froissart and Monstrelet, or the antique diction of Burton and Sir Thomas Browne, not however without a certain latent humour of the author's own, which now and again bubbles up to the surface in irresistible merriment. The scenes are placed before the reader with a vividness and felicity of language rarely equalled. Deutsche Kunst und Musik-Zeitung. Dieses Werk ist nicht nur sorgtaltigst nach den besten Qtiellen, und wie man nach dem Lesen derselben ersieht, nach eifrigem und eingehendera Studium von Seite des Verfassers gearbeitet, sondern er versteht es auch, Alles, was er erzahlt, anziehend, oft fesselnd zu schildern. Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik. Das Werk so werthvoU ist, das wir die deutschen Verleger darauf aufmerksam machen mochten, dasselbe ins Deutsche iibersetzen zu lassen. Es ist bekannt dass die meisten englischen Gelehrten sich durch Grundlichkeit in ihren Forschungen und durch vielseitige Belesenbeit auszeichnen. Zu diesen gehbrt auch Rowbotham. Er ist in der alten wie in der neueren Literatur griindlich bewandert, hat die alten Griechen und die modemen Schriftsteller gelesen. Der Volkerkunde scheint er ganz besonders viel Zeit gewidmet zu haben, ura die Sitten und ^ustande aller Nationen kennen zu lernen. Daraus geht hervor, dass er sich seit Jahrzehnten fiir seine historische Aufgabe vorbereitet hat. Wir sehen aber auch auf jede Seite seines Buches dass er specielle musikalische Studien absolvirte, in Theorie und Praxis voUstandig bewandert ist, ura zu einer solchen Arbeit hinreichend befahigt zu sein. In Folge seiner vielumfassenden Studien beziiglich der Volkerkunde und Culturgeschichte fruhester Zeit bis zur Gegenwart, schreibt Rowbotham auch ganz anders Musikgeschichte, als das bisher von andern Historikern geschehen ist. ' The Musical Journals. Musical Times. Few more original con- tributions to literature have appeared of late years than Rowbotham's History of Music. Indeed, the perusal of the opening sections gives rise to the suspicion, — subsequently confirmed by an acquaintance with the contents of the whole — that we have before us no mere hasty compilation, but the labour of a lifetime. The author is always original ; he clothes his views in unhackneyed language, or enforces them in picturesque epigram. Fervei o/ms— the work is full of life, animation, and poetic spirit. Musical Opinion. In these really- fascinating volumes Mr. Rowbotham gives us one of the most complete histories of the art of music extant. His pages glow with imagery and vigour. The volumes are a gold mine of curious and antiquarian information — eloquently set forth, and certain to enlarge one's ideas of the art divine. Musical Society. Full of vivid prose pictures and fine passages. No earnest student of the literature of music can ever afford to pass Mr. Rowbotham's work over. His style speafes for itself, aud we recommend the book to all who are interested in the evolution of music, and most especially to those who are adherents of the new school of philosophic research. Tonic Sol-fa Reporter. Rowbotham's History of Music is written in the German style of minute and widely- extended investigation, followed by philosophical general isation« It should be read by all philosophical students of music, ani should be placed in every library to which musicians resort. LONDON : PRINTED BY POPLETT & TAYLOR, 43, BEECH STREET, CITY.