nd sire, it would be madness to trust Marsile. Seven years have we
warred in Spain, and many cities have I won for you, but Marsile has
ever been treacherous. Once before when he sent messengers with
olive-branches you and the French foolishly believed him, and he
beheaded the two counts who were your ambassadors to him. Fight
Marsile to the end, besiege and sack Saragossa, and avenge those who
perished by his treachery."

Ganelon Objects

Charlemagne looked out gloomily from under his heavy brows, he twisted
his moustache and pulled his long white beard, but said nothing, and
all the Franks remained silent, except Ganelon, whose hostility to
Roland showed clearly in his words:

"Sire, blind credulity were wrong and foolish, but follow up your own
advantage. When Marsile offers to become your vassal, to hold Spain at
your hand and to take your faith, any man who urges you to reject such
terms cares little for our death! Let pride no longer be your
counsellor, but hear the voice of wisdom."

The aged Duke Naimes, the Nestor of the army, spoke next, supporting
Ganelon: "Sire, the advice of Count Ganelon is wise, if wisely
followed. Marsile lies at your mercy; he has lost all, and only begs
for pity. It would be a sin to press this cruel war, since he offers
full guarantee by his hostages. You need only send one of your barons
to arrange the terms of peace."

This advice pleased the whole assembly, and a murmur was heard: "The
Duke has spoken well."

"Who Shall Go to Saragossa?"

"'My lords and peers, whom shall we send
To Saragossa to Marsile?'
'Sire, let me go,' replied Duke Naimes;
'Give me your glove and warlike staff.'
'No!' cried the king, 'my counsellor,
Thou shalt not leave me unadvised--
Sit down again; I bid thee stay.'

"'My lords and peers, whom shall we send
To Saragossa to Marsile?'
'Sire, I can go,' quoth Roland bold.
'That canst thou not,' said Oliver;
'Thy heart is far too hot and fierce--
I fear for thee. But I will go,
If that will please my lord the King.'
'No!' cried the king, 'ye shall not go.
I swear by this white flowing beard
No peer shall undertake the task.'

"'My lords and peers, whom shall we send?'
Archbishop Turpin rose and spoke:
'Fair sire, let me be messenger.
Your nobles all have played their part;
Give me your glove and warlike staff,
And I will show this heathen king