Roland

Song of Roland (1100s)

1957. Song of Roland. Translated by Dorothy L. Sayers. New York: Penguin Classics.

In the eighth century, Charlemagne invaded Muslim Spain with mixed results. Returning to France to renew his war with the Saxons, his rearguard was annihilated in the Pyrenees Mountains in the Battle of Roncevaux. Among those killed was a Duke of Brittany named Roland, who became immortalized in the Song of Roland, one of the earliest chansons de gestes, or songs of deeds. Such songs were recited by professional singers in the noble courts of France in the eleventh century, and they give us a glimpse at how Medieval warriors saw themselves.

Besides the setting and the name of the central character, the Song of Roland has little to do with the actual Battle of Roncevaux. Roland and his companion Oliver are offered as role models for knights, while Charlemagne is depicted as the perfect king. Although providing an accurate account of neither the eighth nor the eleventh century, the Song of Roland represents the ideal of knightly chivalry and honor. Since the Song appeared shortly after the First Crusade, it is no accident that it depicts the perfect knight as a Crusader and the Crusader as imitating the legendary Charlemagne.

A thousand trumpets ring out for more delight.

Great is the noise; it reaches the French lines.

Quoth Oliver: "I think, companion mine,

We'll need this day with Saracens to fight."

Roland replies: "I hope to God you're right!

Here must we stand to serve on the King's side.

Men for their lords great hardship must abide,

Fierce heat and cold endure in every clime,

Lose for his sake, if need be, skin and hide.

Look to it now! Let each man stoutly smite!

No shameful songs be sung for our despite!

Paynims are wrong, Christians are in the right!

Ill tales of me shall no man tell, say I!"

80

Oliver's climbed upon a hilly crest,

Looks to his right along a grassy cleft,

And sees the Paynims and how they ride addressed.

To his companion Roland he calls and says:

"I see from Spain a tumult and a press —

Many bright hauberks, and many a shining helm!

A day of wrath, they'll make it for our French.

Ganelon knew it, false heart and taitor fell;

When to the Emperor he named us for this stead!"

Quoth Roland: "Silence, Count Oliver, my friend!

He is my stepsire, I will have no word said."

81

Oliver's climbed a hill above the plain,

Whence he can look on all the land of Spain,

And see how vast the Saracen array;

All those bright helms with gold and jewels gay,

And all those shields, those coats of burnished mail;

And all those lances from which the pennons wave;

Even their squadrons defy all estimate,

He cannot count them, their numbers are so great;

Stout as he is, he's mightily dismayed.

He hastens down as swiftly as he may,

Comes to the French and tells them all his tale.

82

Quoth Oliver: "The Paynim strength I've seen;

Never on earth has such a hosting been:

A hundred thousand in van ride under shield

Their helmets laced, their hauberks all agleam

Their spears upright, with heads of shining steel.

You'll have such battle as ne'er was fought on field.

My lords of France, God give you strength at need!

Save you stand fast, this field we cannot keep."

The French all say: "Foul shame it were to flee!

We're yours till death; no man of us will yield."

83

Quoth Oliver: "Huge are the Paynim hordes,

And of our French the numbers seem but small.

Companion Roland, I pray you sound your horn,

That Charles may hear and fetch back all his force."

Roland replies: "Madman were I and more,

And in fair France my fame would suffer scorn.

I'll smite great strokes with Durendal my sword,

I'll dye it red high as the hilt with gore.

This pass the Paynims reached on a luckless morn;

I swear to you death is their doom therefor."

84

"Companion Roland, your Olifant now sound!

King Charles will hear and turn his armies round;

He'll succour us with all his kingly power."

Roland replies: "May never God allow

That I should cast dishonour on my house

Or on fair France bring any ill renown!

Rather will I with Durendal strike out,

With this good sword, here on my baldrick bound;

From point to hilt you'll see the blood run down.

Woe worth the Paynims that e'er they made this rout!

I pledge my faith, we'll smite them dead on ground."

85

"Companion Roland, your Olifant now blow;

Charles in the passes will hear it as he goes,

Trust me, the French will all return right so."

"Now God forbid", Roland makes answer wroth,

"That living man should say he saw me go

Blowing of horns for any Paynim foe!

Ne'er shall my kindred be put to such reproach.

When I shall stand in this great clash of hosts

I'll strike a thousand and then sev'n hundred strokes,

Blood-red the steel of Durendal shall flow.

Stout are the French, they will do battle bold,

These men of Spain shall die and have no hope."

86

Quoth Oliver: "Herein I see no blame:

I have beheld the Saracens of Spain;

They cover all the mountains and the vales,

They spread across the hillsides and the plains;

Great is the might these foreigners display,

And ours appears a very small array."

"I thirst the more", quoth Roland, "for the fray.

God and His angels forbid it now, I pray,

That e'er by me fair France should be disfamed!

I'd rather die than thus be put to shame;

If the King loves us it's for our valour's sake."

87

Roland is fierce and Oliver is wise

And both for valour may bear away the prize.

Once horsed and armed the quarrel to decide,

For dread of death the field they'll never fly.

The counts are brave, their words are stern and high.

Now the false Paynims with wondrous fury ride.

Quoth Oliver: "Look, Roland, they're in sight.

Charles is far off, and these are very nigh;

You would not sound your Olifant for pride;

Had we the Emperor we should have been all right.

To Gate of Spain turn now and lift your eyes,

See for yourself the rear-guard's woeful plight.

Who fights this day will never more see fight."

Roland replies: "Speak no such foul despite!

Curst be the breast whose heart knows cowardise!

Here in our place we'll stand and here abide:

Buffets and blows be ours to take and strike!"

88

When Roland sees that battle there must be

Leopard nor lion ne'er grew so fierce as he.

He calls the French, bids Oliver give heed:

"Sir friend and comrade, such words you shall not speak!

When the King gave us the French to serve this need

These twenty thousand he chose to do the deed;

and well he knew not one would flinch or flee.

Men must endure much hardship for their liege,

And bear for him great cold and burning heat,

Suffer sharp wounds and let their bodies bleed.

Smite with your lance and I with my good steel,

My Durendal the Emperor gave to me:

And if I die, who gets it may agree

That he who bore it, a right good knight was he."