LXXXI.

Olivier from the summit of a hill On his right hand looks o'er a grassy vale, And views the Pagans' onward marching hordes; Then straight he called his faithful friend Rollánd: "From Spain a distant rumbling noise I hear, So many hauberks white and flashing helms I see!--This will inflame our French men's hearts. The treason is the work of Ganelon Who named us for this post before the King." "Hush! Olivier!"--the Count Rollánd replies, "'Tis my step-father, speak no other word." Aoi.