Chapter 2 No.2

In Saragossa King Marsil made

His council-seat in the orchard shade,

On a stair of marble of azure hue.

There his courtiers round him drew;

While there stood, the king before,

Twenty thousand men and more.

Thus to his dukes and his counts he said,

"Hear ye, my lords, we are sore bested.

The Emperor Karl of gentle France

Hither hath come for our dire mischance.

Nor host to meet him in battle line,

Nor power to shatter his power, is mine.

Speak, my sages; your counsel lend:

My doom of shame and death forefend."

But of all the heathens none spake word

Save Blancandrin, Val Fonde's lord.