CXXXIX.

The ev'n is clear, the sun its radiant beams Reflects upon the marching legions. Spears, Hauberks and helms, shields painted with bright flowers, Gold pennons all ablaze with glitt'ring hues. Burning with wrath the Emperor rides on; The French with sad and angered looks. None there But weeps aloud. All tremble for Rollánd.

* * * * *

The King commands Count Ganelon be seized And given to the scullions of his house. Their chief, named Bègue, he calls and bids: "Guard well This man as one who all my kin betrayed." Him Bègue received, and set upon the Count One hundred of his kitchen comrades--best And worst;--they pluck his beard on lip and cheek; Each deals him with his fist four blows, and falls On him with lash and stick; they chain his neck As they would chain a bear, and he is thrown For more dishonor on a sumpter mule, There guarded so until to Carle brought back. Aoi.