He further said:--"By this right hand of mine, And by the beard the air waves on my breast, Soon shall you see the host of Franks disperse; To France, their land, the Franks will take their way. When each has gained the shelter of his home, King Carle will in his chapel be at Aix, To celebrate Saint Michael's solemn feast. The day will come, the term allowed will pass, And from us shall he hear nor word nor news. The King is fierce, his soul is hard; and thus Each hostage head beneath his sword shall fall. 'Twere better far that these should lose their heads Than we for aye lose glorious Spain the Fair, And suffer so great ills and doleful woes." Then say the Pagans:--"This may be the truth." Aoi.
Hereat the King Marsile the council closed. Then summon'd he Clarin de Balaguer, Estramarin and Eudropin his peer; With Priamon Guarlan the bearded knight, And Machiner together with Mahen His uncle, Joïmer and Malbien born Beyond the sea, and Blancandrin, to hear His words. These ten, the fiercest, he addressed: "Seigneurs Barons, ye shall go toward Carl'magne; He to Cordrès, the city, now lays siege. Bear in each hand a branch of olive-tree In token of humility and peace. If by your arts his favor you can gain, I give of gold and silver, lands and fiefs To each, whatever he may ask of me." The Pagans answer all:--["Well said our lord!"] Aoi.
Marsile his council closed:--"My Lords, ye shall Set forth;--an olive branch bear in each hand: And in my name adjure King Carlemagne That by his God he mercy have on me; And ere a month be past, he shall behold Me follow with a thousand faithful knights, There to submit myself to Christian law And be his man in love and faith; and if He hostages require, them shall he have." Quoth Blancandrin:--"Good treaty will be yours." Aoi.
Marsile then ordered forth the ten white mules The King of Sicily once sent to him;-- Golden their bits--their saddles silver-wrought-- And on them mounted his ambassadors. Thus holding each a branch of olive-tree, They rode away and came to Carle of France. Nor can he from the treacherous snare escape. Aoi.
Cheerful and blithe the Emp'ror, for Cordrès Has been subdued, its massy walls o'erthrown, Its towers by mighty catapults destroyed; And there his knights have found abundant spoils Of gold and silver, and rich garnitures. Nor was one Pagan in the city left Alive, who did not own the Christian Faith. Now is the Emperor within a wide And spreading orchard; there around him stand Rollánd and Olivier, Samsun the Duke, And Anseïs the bold, Gefrei d'Anjou, Gonfaloneer of Carle, and also there Gerin and Gerier. Where these were, came Of others many more. In all, from France Were gathered fully fifteen thousand knights. Upon white _pallies_[2] sit these chevaliers; They play at tables[3] to divert themselves; The wiser and the elder play at chess. In mimic sword-play strive the joyous youths. Under a pine-tree, near an eglantine, Is placed a faldstool of pure gold whereon Sits he, the King--great Ruler of Sweet France. White is his beard, his head all flowering white; Graceful his form and proud his countenance; None need to point him out to those who come The Pagan messengers, dismounting, stood Before him, proffering humble faith and love. Aoi.