LVII

     The day declined, night darkling crept,
     And Karl, the mighty Emperor, slept. 
     He dreamt a dream:  he seemed to stand
     In Cizra’s pass, with lance in hand. 
     Count Ganelon came athwart, and lo,
     He wrenched the aspen spear him fro,
     Brandished and shook it aloft with might,
     Till it brake in pieces before his sight;
     High towards heaven the splinters flew;
     Karl awoke not, he dreamed anew.

     LVIII

     In his second dream he seemed to dwell
     In his palace of Aix, at his own Chapelle. 
     A bear seized grimly his right arm on,
     And bit the flesh to the very bone. 
     Anon a leopard from Arden wood,
     Fiercely flew at him where he stood. 
     When lo! from his hall, with leap and bound,
     Sprang to the rescue a gallant hound. 
     First from the bear the ear he tore,
     Then on the leopard his fangs he bore. 
     The Franks exclaim, “’Tis a stirring fray,
     But who the victor none may say.” 
     Karl awoke not—­he slept alway.

     LIX

     The night wore by, the day dawn glowed,
     Proudly the Emperor rose and rode,
     Keenly and oft his host he scanned. 
     “Lords, my barons, survey this land,
     See the passes so straight and steep: 
     To whom shall I trust the rear to keep?”
     “To my stepson Roland:”  Count Gan replied. 
     “Knight like him have you none beside.” 
     The Emperor heard him with moody brow. 
     “A living demon,” he said, “art thou;
     Some mortal rage hath thy soul possessed. 
     To head my vanguard, who then were best?”
     “Ogier,” he answered, “the gallant Dane,
     Braver baron will none remain.”

     LX

     Roland, when thus the choice he saw,
     Spake, full knightly, by knightly law: 
     “Sir Stepsire, well may I hold thee dear,
     That thou hast named me to guard the rear;
     Karl shall lose not, if I take heed,
     Charger, or palfrey, or mule or steed,
     Hackney or sumpter that groom may lead;
     The reason else our swords shall tell.” 
     “It is sooth,” said Gan, “and I know it well.”

     LXI

     Fiercely once more Count Roland turned
     To speak the scorn that in him burned. 
     “Ha! deem’st thou, dastard, of dastard race,
     That I shall drop the glove in place,
     As in sight of Karl thou didst the mace?”

     LXII

     Then of his uncle he made demand: 
     “Yield me the bow that you hold in hand;
     Never of me shall the tale be told,
     As of Ganelon erst, that it failed my hold.” 
     Sadly the Emperor bowed his head,
     With working finger his beard he spread,
     Tears in his own despite he shed.

     LXIII