Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/145

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And, down unto the white beard, all his face;
So he falls dead, recovers not again.
“Monjoie,” cries Charles, that all may know the tale.3620
Upon that word is come to him Duke Naimes,
Holds Tencendur, bids mount that King so Great.
Pagans turn back, God wills not they remain.
And Franks have all their wish, be that what may.

CCLXIII

Pagans are fled, ev’n as the Lord God wills;3625
Chase them the Franks, and the Emperour therewith.
Says the King then: “My Lords, avenge your ills,
Unto your hearts’ content, do what you will!
For tears, this morn, I saw your eyes did spill.”
Answer the Franks: “Sir, even so we will.”3630
Then such great blows, as each may strike, he gives
That few escape, of those remain there still.

CCLXIV

Great was the heat, the dust arose and blew;
Still pagans fled, and hotly Franks pursued.
The chase endured from there to Sarraguce.3635
On her tower, high up clomb Bramimunde,
Around her there the clerks and canons stood
Of the false law, whom God ne’er loved nor knew;
Orders they’d none, nor were their heads tonsured.
And when she saw those Arrabits confused3640
Aloud she cried: “Give us your aid, Mahume!
Ah! Noble king, conquered are all our troops,
And the admiral to shameful slaughter put!”
When Marsile heard, towards the wall he looked,
Wept from his eyes, and all his body stooped,3645
So died of grief. With sins he’s so corrupt;
The soul of him to Hell live devils took.

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