LA  CHANSON DE ROLAND
25
Munjoie escriet e haltement e cler.
Rollant apelet sun ami e sun per;
" Sire compainz a mei kar vus justez.
A grant dulur ermes hoi deserveret." Aoi.
"Montjoie!" he cries, loud and clear.
Roland he calls, his friend and peer:
" Sir Friend 1 ride now to help me here!
Parted to-day great pity were."
Of course the full value of the verse cannot be regained. One knows
neither how it was sung nor even how it was pronounced. The asso-
nances are beyond recovering; the "laisse" or leash of verses or
assonances with the concluding cry, "Aoi," has long ago vanished
from verse or song. The sense is as simple as the " Ballad of Chevy
Chase," but one must imagine the voice and acting. Doubtless
Taillefer acted each motive ; when Oliver called loud and clear, Taille-
fer's voice rose; when Roland spoke "doulcement et suef," the singer
must have sung gently and soft; and when the two friends, with the
singular courtesy of knighthood and dignity of soldiers, bowed to each
other in parting and turned to face their deaths, Taillefer may have
indicated the movement as he sang. The verses gave room for great
acting. Hearing Oliver's cry for help, Roland rode up, and at sight
of the desperate field, lost for a moment his consciousness: —
As vus Rollant sur sun cheval pasmet
E Olivier ki est a mort nafrez!
Tant ad sainiet li oil li sunt trub et
Ne luinz ne près ne poet veeir si cler
Que reconuisset nisun hume mortel.
Sun cumpaignun cum il l'ad encuntret
SU fiert amunt sur l'elme a or gemmet
Tut li detrenchet d'ici que al nasel
Mais en a teste ne l'ad mie adeset.
A icel colp l'ad Rollanz reguardet
Si H demandet dulcement et suef
" Sire cumpainz, faites le vus de gred?
Ja est ço Rollanz ki tant vus soelt amer.
Par mile guise ne m'aviez desfiet,"
Dist Oliviers: "Or vus oi jo parler
Io ne vus vei. Veied vus damnedeus!
Ferut vus ai. Kar le me pardunezl"
Rollanz respunt: "Jo n'ai nient de mei
Jol vus parduins ici e devant deu."
A icel mot l'uns al altre ad clinet.
Par tel amur as les vus desevrez!
There Roland sits unconscious on his horse,
And Oliver who wounded is to death,
So much has bled, his eyes grow dark to him,
Nor far nor near can see so clear
As to recognize any mortal man.
His friend, when he has encountered him,
He strikes upon the helmet of gemmed gold,
Splits it from the crown to the nose-piece,
But to the head he has not reached at all.
At this blow Roland looks at him,
Asks him gently and softly:
"Sir Friend, do you it in earnest?
You know 't is Roland who has so loved you.
In no way have you sent to me defiance."
Says Oliver: "Indeed I hear you speak,
I do not see you. May God see and save you!
Strike you I did. I pray you pardon me."
Roland replies: "I have no harm at all.
I pardon you here and before God!"
At this word, one to the other bends himself.
With such affection, there they separate.