From the other part, Chemubles of Muneigre.
Right to the ground his hair swept either way;He for a jest would bear a heavier weight Than four yoked mules, beneath their load that strain.
That land he had, God's curse on it was plain.
No sun shone there, nor grew there any grain, No dew fell there, nor any shower of rain, The very stones were black upon that plain;And many say that devils there remain.
Says Chemubles "My sword is in its place, At Rencesvals scarlat I will it stain;Find I Rollanz the proud upon my way, I'll fall on him, or trust me not again, And Durendal I'll conquer with this blade, Franks shall be slain, and France a desert made."The dozen peers are, at this word, away, Five score thousand of Sarrazins they take;Who keenly press, and on to battle haste;In a fir-wood their gear they ready make.
