The Song of Roland

Author: Anonymous  | Date: 1050


From the other part, Turgis of Turtelose,

He was a count, that city was his own;

Christians he would them massacre, every one.

Before Marsile among the rest is gone,

Says to the King: "Let not dismay be shewn!

Mahum’s more worth than Saint Peter of Rome;

Serve we him well, then fame in field we’ll own.

To Rencesvals, to meet Rollant I’ll go,

From death he’ll find his warranty in none.

See here my sword that is both good and long,

With Durendal I’ll lay it well across;

Ye’ll hear betimes to which the prize is gone.

Franks shall be slain, whom we descend upon,

Charles the old will suffer grief and wrong,

No more on earth his crown will he put on."


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Chicago: Anonymous, "LXXIV," The Song of Roland Original Sources, accessed May 28, 2023,

MLA: Anonymous. "LXXIV." The Song of Roland, Original Sources. 28 May. 2023.

Harvard: Anonymous, 'LXXIV' in The Song of Roland. Original Sources, retrieved 28 May 2023, from