Rolland says;--"I will blow mine olifant, And Carle will hear it from the pass. I pledge My word the French at once retrace their steps." Said Olivier:--"This a great shame would be, One which to all your kindred would bequeathe A lifetime's stain. When this I asked of you, You answered nay, and would do naught. Well, now With my consent you shall not;--if you blow Your horn, of valor true you show no proof. Already, both your arms are drenched with blood." Responds the Count:--"These arms have nobly struck." Aoi. CXXXII. "The strife is rude," Rolland says--"I will blow My horn, that Carle may hear."--Said Olivier:-- "This would not courage be. What I desired, Companion, you disdained. Were the king here, Safe would we be, but yon brave men are not To blame"--"By this my beard," said Olivier, "I swear, if e'er I see again sweet Aude, My sister, in her arms you ne'er shall lie." Aoi. CXXXIII. Rolland asked Olivier--"Why show to me Your anger, friend!"--"Companion, yours the fault; True courage means not folly. Better far Is prudence than your valiant rage. Our French Their lives have lost, your rashness is the cause. And now our arms can never more give Carle Their service good. Had you believed your friend, Amongst us would he be, and ours the field, The King Marsile, a captive or a corse. Rolland, your valor brought ill fortune, nor Shall Carle the great e'er more our help receive, A man unequaled till God's judgment-day. Here you shall die, and dying, humble France, ... This day our loyal friendship ends--ere falls The Vesper-eve, dolorously we part!" Aoi. CXXXIV. The Archbishop heard their strife. In haste he drives Into his horse his spurs of purest gold, And quick beside them rides. Then chiding them, Says:--"Sire Rolland, and you, Sire Olivier, In God's name be no feud between you two; No more your horn shall save us; nathless 'twere Far better Carle should come and soon avenge Our deaths. So joyous then these Spanish foes Would not return. But as our Franks alight, Find us or slain or mangled on the field, They will our bodies on their chargers' backs Lift in their shrouds with grief and pity, all In tears, and bury us in holy ground: And neither wolves, nor swine, nor curs shall feed On us--" Replies Rolland:--"Well have you said." Aoi. CXXXV. Rolland raised to his lips the olifant, Drew a deep breath, and blew with all his force. High are the mountains, and from peak to peak The sound re-echoes; thirty leagues away 'Twas heard by Carle and all his brave compeers. Cried the king:--"Our men make battle!--" Ganelon Retorts in haste:--"If thus another dared To speak, we should denounce it as a lie." Aoi.