come. They hastened up the mountain sides, and left the gloomy valley piled with dead, and fled away towards Spain. Roland lifted his eyes and beheld the pagans fleeing up the mountain passes; and he was left alone among the dead. Then in great pain he drew his limbs from underneath his horse, and got upon his feet, but scarce could stand. He dragged himself about the valley, and looked upon his dead friends and comrades. Round about each one there lay a full score of pagan corpses, and Roland said, "Charles will see that the guard has done its duty." He came to where Oliver lay, and he lifted the body tenderly in his arms, saying, "Dear comrade, thou wast ever a good and gentle friend to me; better warrior never broke a spear, nor wielded sword; wise wert thou of counsel, and I repent me that once only I harkened not to thy voice. God rest thy soul. A sweeter friend and truer comrade no man ever had than thou." And in the Valley of Death, Roland wept for the last of his friends. When he found death coming on him, Roland took his sword Durendal in one hand, and his horn in the other, and crawled away about a bowshot to a green hillock, whereupon four marble steps were built beneath the trees. There he lay down in his agony. A certain pagan was plundering there among the dead, and watched till Roland ceased to moan in his pain; then, thinking there was no more breath in him, the thief stole slowly up, and seeing the glitter of the hilt of Durendal, put forth his hand and drew it from its sheath. Roland lifted his eyes and saw the thief bend over him with the sword in his hand. He seized the horn from beside him, and dealt the man a blow upon the crown that broke his skull. Then he took Durendal into his hands and prayed that it might not fall into the power of his enemies. He said, “O Durendal, how keen of edge, how bright of blade thou art! God sent thee by his angel to King Charles, to be his captain's sword. Charles girt thee at my side. How many countries thou has conquered for him in my hands! O Durendal, though it grieves me sore, I had rather break thee than that pagan hands should wield thee against France." Then he prayed that God would now give him strength to break his sword; and lifting it in his hands he smote mightily upon the topmost marble step. The gray stone chipped and splintered, but the good blade broke not, neither was its edge turned. He smote the second step; the blade bit it, and leaped back, but blunted not, nor broke. The third step he smote with all his might; it powdered where he struck, but the sword broke not, nor lost its edge. And when he could no more lift the sword, his heart smote him that he had tried to break the holy blade; and he said, "O Durendal, the angels will keep thee safe for Charles and France!" Then Roland, when he felt death creep upon him, lay down and set his face toward Spain and toward his enemies, that men should plainly see he fell a conquerer. Beneath him he put the sword and horn. Then lifted he his weary hands to heaven and closed his eyes; and whilst he mused God sent his swift archangels, Gabriel and Michael, to bear his soul to Paradise. Gloom fell; the mists went up, and there was only death and silence in the valley. The low red sun was setting in the west. Charles and his host rode hard, and drew not rein until they reached the mountain top, and looked down on the Valley of Roncesvalles. They blew the trumpets, but there was no sound and there was no answer but the echoes on the mountain sides. Then down through the gloom and mist they rode, and saw the field; saw Roland dead, and Oliver; saw the Archbishop and the twelve valiant peers, and every man of the twenty thousand chosen guard; saw how fiercely they had fought, how hard they died. There was not one in all the king's host but lifted up his voice and wept for pity at the sight they saw. But Charles the king fell on his face on Roland's body, with a great and exceeding bitter cry. No word he spake, but only lay and moaned upon the dead that was so dear to him. Then the king left four good knights in Roncesvalles to guard the dead from birds and beasts of prey, and set out in chase of the pagans. In a vale the Franks overtook them, hard by a broad and swift river. There being hemmed in, the river in front and the fierce Franks behind, the pagans were cut to pieces; not one escaped, save Marsilius and a little band who had taken another way and got safe to Saragossa. Thence Marsilius sent letters to the king of Babylon, who ruled forty kingdoms, praying him to come over and help him. And he gathered a mighty army and put off to sea to come to Marsilius. Now after this Marsilius and the king of Babylon came out to battle with King Charles before the walls of Saragossa. But Charles utterly destroyed the pagans there and slew the two kings, and broke down the gates of Saragossa and took the city. So he conquered Spain and avenged himself for Roland and his guard. -G. W. Cox agreement; Words: envoys messengers; covenant - promise, pavilion-tent; vanguard-front of an army; league-three miles; wind-blow. Questions: From what country did the Moors come into Spain? Find in your histories how long they remained in Spain. Why did the Franks and Spaniards fight the Moors so bitterly? Trace on your maps the route of Charles's army from Cordova to Aachen (Aix-laChapelle. Among what mountains is the Valley of Roncesvalles? What parts of this story are based on history? On legend? Do you see anything significant in the fact that this story of Roland was the most popular story among the people of the Middle Ages? Pleasure Reading: Cox's Popular Romances of the Middle Ages Maitland's Heroes of Chivalry Bulfinch's Age of Chivalry Church's Stories of Charlemagne Tappan's Legendary Heroes THE KING OF GLORY (PSALM XXIV) HE earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; THE The world, and they that dwell therein. And established it upon the floods. He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, And righteousness from the God of his salvation. This is the generation of them that seek after him, That seek thy face, O God of Jacob. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; Who is this King of Glory? The Lord strong and mighty, Lift up your heads, O ye gates; Who is this King of Glory? The Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory. --The Bible "A IN THE FACTORY LL right, Dick," said his father, "if you don't want to go to school and study, you needn'. Try work and see how you like it." And that was why Dick, sixteen years old, happened to be one of the helpers in the grinding room of a rubber factory. If the truth may be told, after the first week he did not like it very well. The great steam-heated rolls of the mixing mills, between which the rubber was forced, were exceedingly hot; so was the room. The clatter of the mighty gears running in their pinions drowned everything but the loudest shout; while the dust of whiting, litharge, and sulphur, as it was forced into the softening rubber, kept the air dense and stifling. He did not tell anyone that it was not all fun and that the superintendent, who had orders to "keep him busy," saw to it that he did not have an idle moment. But the machines fascinated him. They were so huge, so resistless as they crushed and sheeted the quivering blocks of tough gum. Dangerous, too, they were; and he shivered over the tales the grinding-room gang told of men who had been caught and crushed. Then one day as he paused in front of a three-roll sheeter, Big Jim, who was "tending" it, slipped, the front of his heavy jumper caught, and he was being drawn swiftly into the machine. How the boy did it he never knew. But catching a shifting bar, he threw it between the swiftly moving cogs of the driving gear and its pinion. There followed a series of crashing reports like cannon shots, as tooth after tooth broke and the machine stopped. Half an hour later Dick, rather pale and shaken, was seated in the President's office, not knowing whether he was to be punished or rewarded-punished for breaking a machine that cost thousands of dollars or rewarded for saving Big Jim. |