Chapter CCXXVII

Barons of France make up the tenth. They are
One hundred thousand captains 'mong the best;
Hardy and stout, of features proud, hair flecked
With gray, and beard all white; in hauberk clad
And lined coat of mails, girt with their swords
Of Spain and France; for shelter, brilliant shields
With various blazons decked, among them known.
They mount their steeds and clamor for the fight:
"Montjoie!" they cry.--Comes now Carlemagne the king!
Geffrei d'Anjou bears up the oriflamme
Called Roman once, but since the day Saint Pierre
Made it a standard, it is named Montjoie.
Aoi.

CCXXVIII.

The Emperor Carle dismounts, prostrates himself
Upon the verdant grass, invoking God
With eyes uplifted toward the rising sun:
"O father true, this day be my defense!
Thy hand it was saved Jonas from the whale
Within whose body he was swallowed up;
Thou sparedst too the king of Niniva;
And Daniel didst thou save from cruel pain
When thrown among the lions. By thy might
Stood the three children safe in burning flames,
This day grant also unto me thy love,
Merciful God! List to my prayer; vouchsafe
That I avenge my nephew, dear Rolland!"
Thus having prayed, he stands erect and marks
His forehead with the sign of might: Then mounts
A fleet-hoofed courser. Naimes and Joseran
Carle's stirrup hold--With buckler on his arm
And trenchant lance in rest; strength, beauty, grace
Sat on his countenance and visage fair.
Then firmly seated on his horse he rides....
Clarions in rear and front reecho 'round....
But above all rings out the olifant.
Meantime the French weep ... mourning for Rolland.
Aoi.