Roland strikes on a grey stone, More of it cuts off than I can tell you. The sword grinds, but shatters not nor breaks, Upward against the sky it rebounds. When the Count sees that he can never break it, Very gently he mourns it to himself: "Ah, Durendal, how fair you are and sacred! In your golden guard are many relics, The tooth of Saint Peter and blood of Saint Basil, And hair of my seigneur Saint-Denis, Of the garment too of Saint Mary. It is not right that pagans should own you. By Christians you should be served, Nor should man have you who does cowardice. Many wide lands by you I have conquered That Charles holds, who has the white beard, And emperor of them is noble and rich." This "laisse" is even more eleventh-century than the other, but it appealed no longer to the warriors; it spoke rather to the monks. To the warriors, the sword itself was the religion, and the relics were details of ornament or strength. To the priest, the list of relics was more eloquent than the Regent diamond on the hilt and the Kohinoor on the scabbard. Even to us it is interesting if it is understood. Roland had gone on pilgrimage to the Holy Land. He had stopped at Rome and won the friendship of Saint Peter, as the tooth proved; he had passed through Constantinople and secured the help of Saint Basil; he had reached Jerusalem and gained the affection of the Virgin; he had come home to France and secured the support of his "seigneur" Saint Denis; for Roland, like Hugh Capet, was a liege-man of Saint Denis and French to the heart. France, to him, was Saint Denis, and at most the Ile de France, but not Anjou or even Maine. These were countries he had conquered with Durendal:-- Jo l'en cunquis e Anjou e Bretaigne Si l'en cunquis e Peitou e le Maine Jo l'en cunquis Normendie la franche Si l'en cunquis Provence e Equitaigne. He had conquered these for his emperor Charlemagne with the help of his immediate spiritual lord or seigneur Saint Denis, but the monks knew that he could never have done these feats without the help of Saint Peter, Saint Basil, and Saint Mary the Blessed Virgin, whose relics, in the hilt of his sword, were worth more than any king's ransom. To this day a tunic of the Virgin is the most precious property of the cathedral at Chartres. Either one of Roland's relics would have made the glory of any shrine in Europe, and every monk knew their enormous value and power better than he knew the value of Roland's conquests. Yet even the religion is martial, as though it were meant for the fighting Archangel and Odo of Bayeux. The relics serve the sword; the sword is not in service of the relics. As the death-scene approaches, the song becomes even more military:--