LXX.

Hastes to the front the nephew of Marsile,

Goading the mule that bears him, with a staff.

Says to his uncle, gayly laughing loud:

"Fair King, till now I served you well; for you

Endured hard pain and grief.—The only fee

I ask is this:—To strike Rollánd! I swear

To give him death with my good trenchant sword,

And if his help Mohammed will bestow,

On me, forever shall all Spain be free,

From the defiles of Aspre to Durestant.

Carle then will yield,—the Franks, surrender all;

No more in all your life will you have war."

The King Marsile bestows on him the glove.

Aoi.

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