Count Ganelon, at this, rose full of wrath,

And, casting from his neck his zibelline

Of fur, stood forth, clothed in his silk blialt. 5 Gray were his eyes and very fierce his face;

Graceful his form—his breast, of mighty mold.

So fair was he, all eyes upon him rest.

"Rollánd," he said, "wherefore this foolish wrath?

Since thy step-father, 'tis well known, I am,

For this thou choosest me to seek Marsile!

'Tis well. If God but grant me safe return,

I such ill fortune hurl on thee, shall smite

Thy life from now and ever with a curse."

Rollánd replies:—"Mad words and proud I hear.

All know it well, I care for no man's threat;

But since a wise man must this message bear,

If the King wills it, in your place I go."

Aoi.