| |
I
THE KING our Emperor Carlemaine, | |
| Hath been for seven full years in Spain. | |
| From highland to sea hath he won the land; | |
| City was none might his arm withstand; | |
| Keep and castle alike went down— | 5 |
| Save Saragossa, the mountain town. | |
| The King Marsilius holds the place, | |
| Who loveth not God, nor seeks His grace: | |
| He prays to Apollin, and serves Mahound; | |
| But he saved him not from the fate he found. | 10 |
| |
II
In Saragossa King Marsil made | |
| His council-seat in the orchard shade, | |
| On a stair of marble of azure hue. | |
| There his courtiers round him drew; | |
| While there stood, the king before, | 15 |
| Twenty thousand men and more. | |
| Thus to his dukes and his counts he said, | |
| “Hear ye, my lords, we are sore bested. | |
| The Emperor Karl of gentle France | |
| Hither hath come for our dire mischance. | 20 |
| Nor host to meet him in battle line, | |
| Nor power to shatter his power, is mine. | |
| Speak, my sages; your counsel lend: | |
| My doom of shame and death forefend.” | |
| But of all the heathens none spake word | 25 |
| Save Blancandrin, Val Fonde’s lord. | |
| |
III
Blancandrin was a heathen wise, | |
| Knightly and valiant of enterprise, | |
| Sage in counsel his lord to aid; | |
| And he said to the king, “Be not dismayed: | 30 |
| Proffer to Karl, the haughty and high, | |
| Lowly friendship and fealty; | |
| Ample largess lay at his feet, | |
| Bear and lion and greyhound fleet. | |
| Seven hundred camels his tribute be, | 35 |
| A thousand hawks that have moulted free. | |
| Let full four hundred mules be told, | |
| Laden with silver enow and gold | |
| For fifty waggons to bear away; | |
| So shall his soldiers receive their pay. | 40 |
| Say, too long hath he warred in Spain,— | |
| Let him turn to France—to his Aix—again. | |
| At Saint Michael’s feast you will thither speed, | |
| Bend your heart to the Christian creed, | |
| And his liegeman be in duty and deed. | 45 |
| Hostages he may demand | |
| Ten or twenty at your hand. | |
| We will send him the sons whom our wives have nursed; | |
| Were death to follow, mine own the first. | |
| Better by far that they there should die | 50 |
| Than be driven all from our land to fly, | |
| Flung to dishonor and beggary. | |
| |
IV
“Yea,” said Blancandrin, “by this right hand, | |
| And my floating beard by the free wind fanned, | |
| Ye shall see the host of the Franks disband | 55 |
| And hie them back into France their land; | |
| Each to his home as beseemeth well, | |
| And Karl unto Aix—to his own Chapelle. | |
| He will hold high feast on Saint Michael’s day | |
| And the time of your tryst shall pass away. | 60 |
| Tale nor tidings of us shall be; | |
| Fiery and sudden, I know, is he: | |
| He will smite off the heads of our hostages all: | |
| Better, I say, that their heads should fall | |
| Than we the fair land of Spain forego, | 65 |
| And our lives be laden with shame and woe.” | |
| “Yea,” said the heathens, “it may be so.” | |
| |
V
King Marsil’s council is over that day, | |
| And he called to him Clarin of Balaguet, | |
| Estramarin, and Eudropin his peer, | 70 |
| Bade Garlon and Priamon both draw near, | |
| Machiner and his uncle Maheu—with these | |
| Joïmer and Malbien from overseas, | |
| Blancandrin for spokesman,—of all his men | |
| He hath summoned there the most felon ten. | 75 |
| “Go ye to Carlemaine,” spake their liege,— | |
| “At Cordres city he sits in siege,— | |
| While olive branches in hand ye press, | |
| Token of peace and of lowliness. | |
| Win him to make fair treaty with me, | 80 |
| Silver and gold shall your guerdon be, | |
| Land and lordship in ample fee.” | |
| “Nay,” said the heathens, “enough have we.” | |
| |
VI
So did King Marsil his council end. | |
| “Lords,” he said, “on my errand wend; | 85 |
| While olive branches in hand ye bring, | |
| Say from me unto Karl the king, | |
| For sake of his God let him pity show; | |
| And ere ever a month shall come and go, | |
| With a thousand faithful of my race, | 90 |
| I will follow swiftly upon his trace, | |
| Freely receive his Christian law, | |
| And his liegemen be in love and awe. | |
| Hostages asks he? it shall be done.” | |
| Blancandrin answered, “Your peace is won.” | 95 |
| |
VII
Then King Marsil bade be dight | |
| Ten fair mules of snowy white, | |
| Erst from the King of Sicily brought | |
| Their trappings with silver and gold inwrought— | |
| Gold the bridle, and silver the selle. | 100 |
| On these are the messengers mounted well; | |
| And they ride with olive boughs in hand, | |
| To seek the Lord of the Frankish land. | |
| Well let him watch; he shall be trepanned. | |
| |
