Count Ganelon his own house seeks, to make

Equipment and prepare his arms: his choice

The best that he can find. With golden spurs

He clasps his heels; belts to his side his sword,

Murgleis, and mounts his courser Tachebrun.

His uncle Guinemer the stirrup held;

There many a chevalier you might have seen

In tears, who said: "Baron, such evil fate

Was yours. You, in the King's Court so long, and there

Revered as liege-man high!—The man who judged

That you should go, not Carle himself shall cure

Or save; the Count Rollánd bethought him not

Of that high lineage whence you sprang!"—And they

Entreat:—"My lord with you take us along!"

But Ganelon replies:—"Lord God forbid!

Better to die alone than with me fall

So many brave!—Lords, to sweet France ye will go.

Salute for me my wife, and Pinabel,

My friend and peer, and my son Baldewin whom

Ye all know—guard him—hold him for your lord."

The Count departs and goes upon his way.

Aoi.