The messengers upon their horses mount

And gallop from the city in hot haste.

With terror struck, both to the Emir come,

Deliv'ring up the keys of Sarraguce.

Said Baligant:—"What found ye there? Where is

The King Marsile whom I commanded forth?"

Clarien makes answer:—"He is hurt to death;

The Emp'ror yesterday marched through the pass

Upon his homeward way into sweet France.

For greater honor, in the rear, Rollánd,

His nephew, had a post with Olivier,

All the twelve Peers and twenty thousand knights.

The King Marsile, the valiant Baron, fought

And fierce encounter had with Count Rollánd,

Who dealt with Durendal so dire a blow,

The king's right hand was severed from his arm.

Slain was the son he loved so tenderly,

With all the Barons he had brought with him;

Unable to resist, he took to flight,

And Carle, the Emperor, followed close behind.

Now give your help to King Marsile, who craves

Your aid, and as your guerdon all the realm

Of Spain receive." But Baligant remains

Deep sunk in thought, nigh maddened by his grief.

Aoi.