La Chanson de Roland E-Book

Léon Gautier

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 147

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Carle our most noble Emperor and King, Hath tarried now full seven years in Spain, Conqu'ring the highland regions to the sea; No fortress stands before him unsubdued, Nor wall, nor city left, to be destroyed, Save Sarraguce, high on a mountain set. There rules the King Marsile who loves not God, Apollo worships and Mohammed serves; Nor can he from his evil doom escape. Aoi.

Leseprobe

La Chanson de Roland

La Chanson de RolandHISTORY OF THE POEM.MANUSCRIPTS.SARRAGOSSA.I.II.III.IV.V.VI.VII.COUNCIL OF CHARLEMAGNE ATCORDOBA.VIII.IX.X.XI.XII.XIII.XIV.XV.XVI.XVII.XVIII.XIX.XX.XXI.XXII.XXIII.5XXIV.XXV.XXVI.XXVII.XXVIII.THE EMBASSY AND CRIME OF GANELON.XXIX.XXX.XXXI.XXXII.XXXIII.XXXIV.XXXV.XXXVI.XXXVII.XXXVIII.XXXIX.XL.XLI.XLII.XLIII.XLIV.XLV.XLVI.XLVII.XLVIII.XLIX.L.LI.LII.LIII.LIV.LV.THE REAR GUARD.ROLLÁND DOOMED TO DEATH.LVI.LVII.LVIII.LIX.LX.LXI.LXII.LXIII.LXIV.LXV.LXVI.LXVII.LXVIII.LXIX.LXX.LXXI.LXXII.LXXIII.LXXIV.LXXV.LXXVI.LXXVII.LXXVIII.LXXIX.LXXX.PRELUDE TO THE GREAT BATTLE.LXXXI.LXXXII.LXXXIII.ROLAND'S PRIDE.LXXXIV.LXXXV.LXXXVI.LXXXVII.LXXXVIII.LXXXIX.XC.XCI.XCII.XCIII.THE MELEE.XCIV.XCV.XCVI.XCVII.XCVIII.XCIX.C.CI.CII.CIII.CIV.CV.CVI.CVII.CVIII.CIX.CX.CXI.CXII.CXIII.CXIV.CXV.CXVI.CXVII.CXVIII.CXIX.CXX.CXXI.CXXII.CXXIII.CXXIV.CXXV.CXXVI.CXXVII.CXXVIII.CXXIX.THE HORN.CXXX.CXXXI.CXXXII.CXXXIII.CXXXIV.CXXXV.CXXXVI.CXXXVII.CXXXVIII.CXXXIX.CXL.CXLI.THE ROUT.CXLII.CXLIII.CXLIV.CXLV.OLIVIER'S DEATH.CXLVI.CXLVII.CXLVIII.CXLIX.CL.CLI.CLII.CLIII.CLIV.CLV.CHARLEMAGNE APPROACHES.CLVI.CLVII.CLVIII.CLIX.CLX.CLXI.CLXII.THE LAST BENEDICTION OF THE ARCHBISHOP.CLXIII.CLXIV.CLXV.CLXVI.CLXVII.CLXVIII.CLXIX.ROLAND'S DEATH.CLXX.CLXXI.CLXXII.CLXXIII.CLXXIV.CLXXV.CLXXVI.CLXXVII.CLXXVIII.THE CHASTISEMENT OF THE SARACENS.CLXXIX.CLXXX.CLXXXI.CLXXXII.CLXXXIII.CLXXXIV.CLXXXV.CLXXXVI.CLXXXVII.CLXXXVIII.CLXXXIX.CXC.CXCI.CXCII.CXCIII.CXCIV.CXCV.CXCVI.CXCVII.CXCVIII.CXCIX.CC.CCI.CCII.CCIII.CCIV.CCV.CCVI.CCVII.CCVIII.CCIX.CCX.CCXI.CCXII.CCXIII.CCXIV.CCXV.CCXVI.CCXVII.CCXVIII.CCXIX.CCXX.CCXXI.CCXXII.CCXXIII.CCXXIV.CCXXV.CCXXVI.CCXXVII.CCXXVIII.CCXXIX.CCXXX.CCXXXI.CCXXXII.CCXXXIII.CCXXXIV.CCXXXV.CCXXXVI.CCXXXVII.CCXXXVIII.CCXXXIX.CCXL.CCXLI.CCXLII.CCXLIII.CCXLIV.CCXLV.CCXLVI.CCXLVII.CCXLVIII.CCXLIX.CCL.CCLI.CCLII.CCLIII.CCLIV.CCLV.CCLVI.CCLVII.CCLVIII.CCLIX.CCLX.CCLXI.CCLXII.CCLXIII.CCLXIV.CCLXV.CCLXVI.CCLXVII.CCLXVIII.CCLXIX.THE PUNISHMENT OF GANELON.CCLXX.CCLXXI.CCLXXII.CCLXXIII.CCLXXIV.CCLXXV.CCLXXVI.CCLXXVII.CCLXXVIII.CLXXIX.CCLXXX.CCLXXXI.CCLXXXII.CCLXXXIII.CCLXXXIV.CCLXXXV.CCLXXXVI.CCLXXXVII.CCLXXXVIII.CCLXXXIX.CCXC.CCXCI.CCXCII.THE END OF THE CHANSON.CCXCIII.FOOTNOTESCopyright

La Chanson de Roland

Léon Gautier

HISTORY OF THE POEM.

On the 15th of August, 778, in a little Pyrenean Valley, still known in our days by the name of Ronceval, a terrible event took place. Charlemagne, returning from his expedition to Spain, crossed that valley and the Pyrenees, leaving his rear-guard in command of Roland, Prefect of the Marches of Brittany. His main army had passed unmolested; but at the moment when the rear-guard advanced into the defiles of the mountain, thousands of Gascons rushed from their ambush, fell upon the French army and slaughtered the whole guard to the last man. So perished Roland.Eginhard, the historian of Charlemagne, terminates his narrative with these words: "The House-intendant, (Regiæ mensæ præpositus), Eggihard, Anselm, Count of the Palace, Roland, Prefect of the Marches of Brittany (Hruolandus britannici limitis præfectus), with many more, perished in the fight. It was not possible to take revenge on the spot. The treacherous attempt once perpetrated, the enemy dispersed and left no trace." (Eginhard's Life of Charlemagne, Vol. I., p. 31; edition of the Société de l'histoire de France.)From the moment of the defeat of Ronceval, legend commenced its labor upon this truly epic event which, in its origin, is absolutely French, but has found its echoes throughout Europe, from Iceland to Eastern regions.The commentators generally agree in dating the composition of the Poem before the first crusade in the year 1096. The author, it is ascertained, was Norman, the dialect used by him being Norman throughout. Whether this author was really Turoldus, named in the last line of the Poem, is a point which Léon Gautier refuses to affirm. We refer the reader to the very interesting preface ofGenin, and to the learned introductions of Léon Gautier, for more complete information.The word "Aoi," which is placed at the end of every stanza, and found in no other ancient French poems, is interpreted differently by the commentators. M. Francisque Michel assimilated it at first to the termination of an ecclesiastical chant—Preface, xxvii.—and later to the SaxonAbeg, or the EnglishAway, as a sort of refrain which the "jongleur" repeated at the end of the couplets. M. Génin explains it byad viam, a vei, avoie, away! it is done, let us go on!M. Gautier, with his skeptical honesty, declares the word unexplained. See Note 9, p. 4, of his seventh edition.

MANUSCRIPTS.

The most complete and ancient is that of Oxford, in the Bodleian Library, marked "Digby, 23," a copy of the XIIth. century. All others areRifaccimenti, Refashionings.Two in Venice, in St. Mark Library, XIIIth. century; French MSS., No. 4 & 7.In the National Library, Paris, No. 860, XIIIth. century.The Versailles MS., now deposited in the Library of Chateauroux, a copy of which is in Paris Nat. Library; 15, 108; XIIIth. century.In the Lyons Library, 964; XIVth. century.In Cambridge, Trinity Collage, R. 3-32; XVIth. century.One called the Lorrain, a fragment found near Metz.The Karlomagnus Saga, an Icelandic copy of the Oxford MS.; XIIIth. century.In M. Petit de Julleville's Introduction to his version can be found a chronological list of the works which concern the "CHANSON DE ROLAND," the translations of it, and dissertations on the subject in France and Germany.There are twenty-one translations in different languages:Four in German, by Th. Müller, Hertz, Boehmer, Eug. Kölbing.One in Polish, by Mad. Duchinska.One in Danish, by Unger.One in Icelandish, Karlomagnus' Saga.Twelve in French, by Francisque Michel, Bourdillon, Delécluze, Génin, P. Paris, Vitet, Jônain, de Saint-Albin, d'Avril, Petit de Julleville, Lehugeur and Léon Gautier, of whose translation seven editions were issued.Two in English, one in England by J. O'Hagan, and one in America, the latest and present one.Besides, a version from Vitet's French paraphrase, by Mrs. Marsh.

SARRAGOSSA.

COUNCIL HELD BY KING MARSILE.

I.

I.

Carle our most noble Emperor and King, Hath tarried now full seven years in Spain, Conqu'ring the highland regions to the sea; No fortress stands before him unsubdued, Nor wall, nor city left, to be destroyed, Save Sarraguce, high on a mountain set. There rules the King Marsile who loves not God, Apollo worships and Mohammed serves; Nor can he from his evil doom escape. Aoi.

II.

The King Marsile abides in Sarraguce Where underneath an orchard's leafy shade, Upon a terrace with blue marble paved He rests. Around him twenty thousand men And more are ranked. His Dukes and Counts he calls: "Oyez,Seigneurs, what gath'ring ills are ours: Great Carle, the Emperor who rules Sweet France Comes to this land to 'whelm us with his might. To give him battle I no army have, Nor people to array against his host: Your counsel give me, Lords, as my wise men, And so defend your King from death and shame;" But answer none a single Pagan gave, Save Blancandrindel Castel Val-Fondé. Aoi.

III.

Blancandrin, 'midst the wisest Pagans wise, Who, in his vassalage a valiant knight, Most prudent counsels gave to help his lord, Said to the King:—"Be not by this dismayed! To Carle the proud, the fierce, send messengers With words of faith and love. Send to him gifts Of bears and lions, packs of dogs; present Seven hundred camels also, fifty score Of molted

1

falcons, and four hundred mules With heavy weight of gold and silver packed; Then fifty chariots with their burthens heaped: Well can this treasure all his soldiers pay. Within this land he long enough has camped. To France—to Aix let him at last return; There will you join him on Saint-Michael's feast, Accept the Christian law, and swear to be His man in faith and honor. Should he ask Hostages, ten or twenty grant, to lure His trust; let us send our wives' sons. Mine—although He die, I give. Far better that their heads Should fall than we lose honor and domain, Than we ourselves to beggary be brought." Aoi.

IV.

He further said:—"By this right hand of mine, And by the beard the air waves on my breast, Soon shall you see the host of Franks disperse; To France, their land, the Franks will take their way. When each has gained the shelter of his home, King Carle will in his chapel be at Aix, To celebrate Saint Michael's solemn feast. The day will come, the term allowed will pass, And from us shall he hear nor word nor news. The King is fierce, his soul is hard; and thus Each hostage head beneath his sword shall fall. 'Twere better far that these should lose their heads Than we for aye lose glorious Spain the Fair, And suffer so great ills and doleful woes." Then say the Pagans:—"This may be the truth." Aoi.

V.

V.

Hereat the King Marsile the council closed. Then summon'd he Clarin de Balaguer, Estramarin and Eudropin his peer; With Priamon Guarlan the bearded knight, And Machiner together with Mahen His uncle, Joïmer and Malbien born Beyond the sea, and Blancandrin, to hear His words. These ten, the fiercest, he addressed: "Seigneurs Barons, ye shall go toward Carl'magne; He to Cordrès, the city, now lays siege. Bear in each hand a branch of olive-tree In token of humility and peace. If by your arts his favor you can gain, I give of gold and silver, lands and fiefs To each, whatever he may ask of me." The Pagans answer all:—"[Well said our lord!"] Aoi.

VI.

Marsile his council closed:—"My Lords, ye shall Set forth;—an olive branch bear in each hand: And in my name adjure King Carlemagne That by his God he mercy have on me; And ere a month be past, he shall behold Me follow with a thousand faithful knights, There to submit myself to Christian law And be his man in love and faith; and if He hostages require, them shall he have." Quoth Blancandrin:—"Good treaty will be yours." Aoi.

VII.

Marsile then ordered forth the ten white mules The King of Sicily once sent to him;— Golden their bits—their saddles silver-wrought— And on them mounted his ambassadors. Thus holding each a branch of olive-tree, They rode away and came to Carle of France. Nor can he from the treacherous snare escape. Aoi.

COUNCIL OF CHARLEMAGNE ATCORDOBA.

VIII.

Cheerful and blithe the Emp'ror, for Cordrès Has been subdued, its massy walls o'erthrown, Its towers by mighty catapults destroyed; And there his knights have found abundant spoils Of gold and silver, and rich garnitures. Nor was one Pagan in the city left Alive, who did not own the Christian Faith. Now is the Emperor within a wide And spreading orchard; there around him stand Rollánd and Olivier, Samsun the Duke, And Anseïs the bold, Gefrei d'Anjou, Gonfaloneer of Carle, and also there Gerin and Gerier. Where these were, came Of others many more. In all, from France Were gathered fully fifteen thousand knights. Upon whitepallies

2

sit these chevaliers; They play at tables

3

to divert themselves; The wiser and the elder play at chess. In mimic sword-play strive the joyous youths. Under a pine-tree, near an eglantine, Is placed a faldstool of pure gold whereon Sits he, the King—great Ruler of Sweet France. White is his beard, his head all flowering white; Graceful his form and proud his countenance; None need to point him out to those who come The Pagan messengers, dismounting, stood Before him, proffering humble faith and love. Aoi.

IX.

Blancandrin was the first to speak, and said Unto the king:—"Hail! in the name of God, The Glorious One we must adore! To you I bring this message from Marsile the brave: Well has he studied your Salvation's Law; And would upon you lavish his great wealth. Bears—lions—packs of hounds enchained he gives, Seven hundred camels also—fifty score Of molted falcons—mules, four hundred, packed With gold and silver—fifty carts to carry These gifts, andbezants

4

of the purest gold He also sends, which will your soldiers pay. Too long within our land you have remained; To France—to Aix he wills you straight return. There will he follow you: so says my lord." To God the Emperor uplifts his hands; Bends low his head and counsel takes in thought. Aoi.

X.

X.

The Emperor sat silent with drooped head. Ne'er rash in words, he never speaks in haste. At last he rose. Proudly he looked and spake Unto the messengers:—"Ye have well said That King Marsile e'er stood my greatest foe! On these fair-seeming words how far can I Rely?" The crafty Saracen replied: "Would you have hostages? you shall have ten, Fifteen, yea, twenty. Though his fate be death My son shall go, and others nobler still, I deem. When to your lordly palace, home Returned—when comes Saint Michael del Peril, His feast, my Lord will follow to those springs, He says, brought forth by God for you, and there Baptized, a faithful Christian will become!" Carl'magne makes answer:—"He may yet be saved!" Aoi.

XI.

The eve was soft and fair, the sunset bright; The ten mules stabled by the King's command; In the great orchard a pavilion raised To house the messengers, his Pagan guests. Twelve sergeants to their service were assigned, And there they rested till the dawn repelled The night. With day the Emperor arose; Heard mass and matins first, then having gone Beneath a stately pine, he summons all His wisest barons, council grave to hold, Thus ever guided by the men of France. Aoi.

XII.

Beneath a pine the Monarch has repaired; His barons to the council called: the Duke Ogier—Archbishop Turpin—old Richard, Also his nephew Henri, and the brave Count Acelin of Gascuïgne—Tedbald De Reins—his cousin Milon—Gerier, Gerin, together with the Count Rollánd, And Olivier, the brave and noble knight. One thousand Franks of France and more were met— Then Ganelon came, who treason wrought; and now Was opened that ill-fated council thus: Aoi.

XIII.

"Seigneurs Barons," began the Emp'ror Carle, "The King Marsile his messengers hath sent To offer me large store of his great wealth; Bears—lions—hounds in leash;—of camels he Gives seven hundred—falcons, fifty score— Four hundred mules packed high with Arab gold, And more than fifty chariots loaded full; But he demands that I return to France. There will he follow: then arrived at Aix, Will in my palace take Salvation's Faith, Will Christ obey, and hold his lands from me; But what is in his heart, I do not know." The French exclaim:—"Of him we must beware!" Aoi.

XIV.

The Emp'ror ended thus. But Count Rollánd Approving not the terms, stands forth and speaks Unto the King with arguments adverse: "Trust never more Marsile. 'Tis full seven years Since we came into Spain. For you I took Both Noplés and Commiblés; gained Valterne And all the land of Pine, and Balaguer, And Tuele and Sebile—yet King Marsile Still plotting treachery, sent from his horde Of Pagans, fifteen men; each bore in hand Like these, a branch of olive-tree, and spake The self-same words. On that you counsel took From your too lightly flattering French; two Counts Of yours you to the Pagan sent, the one, Bazan, Bastile the other, and their heads He struck off near Haltoie. As you began, War on! To Sarraguce your army lead, Besiege her walls, though all your life it take, And thus avenge the knights the felon slew." Aoi.

XV.

At this the Emperor, bending low his head, Twists his mustache and plucks his hoary beard, Answering his nephew neither yea nor nay. The Franks keep silence—all save Ganelon Who rose and stood before the King, and spake Bold words and haughty:—"Put not faith in fools, Nor me nor others; follow your own rede! Since King Marsile makes offer to become Your man, with hands joined; furthermore will hold Spain as a fief from you; yea, will receive Our law as his law, he who counsel gives Such proffer to reject, cares not a whit What death we die. No counsel take of pride; Let pass the fools and listen to the wise." Aoi.

XVI.