Chapter XLVI

"Who could contrive that there Rolland should die,
Would strike off Carle's right arm. Then on the field
That wond'rous host in death shall lie. No more
Thereafter could King Carle such forces raise,
And the Great Land at last would rest in peace."
Marsile, this hearing, kissed him on the neck,
And then began his treasures to display.
Aoi.