Je veux chanter les Dames, les Guerriers, L’amour, l’honneur, et les jeux et les armes, Durant ces temps où les fiers Sarrasins, Des mers d’Afrique, abordèrent en France, Pour seconder les fureurs d’Agramant, Le jeune roi, dont l’orgueilleuse audace Pensait venger la mort du vieux Trojan, Sur l’empereur des Romains, Charlemagne. Je veux aussi raconter de Roland, Chose inouïe, autant en vers qu’en prose; Dire l’amour qui rendit furieux Ce paladin, auparavant si sage; Si toutefois celle qui m’a charmé, Qui va minant ma raison d’heure en heure, M’en laisse assez pour remplir dignement Mon entreprise et tenir ma promesse. Of Loves and Ladies, Knights and Arms, I sing, Of Courtesies, and many a Daring Feat; And from those ancient days my story bring, When Moors from Afric passed in hostile fleet, And ravaged France, with Agramant their King, Flushed with his youthful rage and furious heat; Who on King Charles’, the Roman emperor’s head Had vowed due vengeance for Troyano dead. In the same strain of Roland will I tell Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme, On whom strange madness and rank fury fell, A man esteemed so wise in former time; If she, who to like cruel pass has well Nigh brought my feeble wit which fain would climb And hourly wastes my sense, concede me skill And strength my daring promise to fulfil. W. R. ROSE. Le donne, i cavalier, l’arme, gl’amori Le cortesíe, l’audaci imprese io canto, Che furo al tempo che passaro i Mori D’Africa il mare, e in Francia nocquer tanto, Seguendo l’ire e i giovenil furori D’Agramante lor re, che si diè vanto Di vendicar la morte di Troiano Sopra re Carlo imperator romano. Dirò d’Orlando in un medesmo tratto Cosa non detta in prosa mai, nè in rima; Che per amor venne in furore e matto, D’uom che si saggio era stimato prima: Se da colei che tal quasi m’ha fatto Che’l poco ingegno ad or ad or mi lima, Me ne sarà però tanto concesso, Che mi basti a finir quanto ho promesso.