Anonymous Old French epic, geological dating possibly as early as the middle
11th century.

I
Charles the King, our Lord and Sovereign,
Full seven years hath sojourned in Spain,
Conquered the land, and won the western main,
Now no fort against him doth remain,
No city walls are left for him to gain,
Save Sarraguce, that sits on high mountain.
Marsile its King, who feareth not God's name,
Mahumet's man, he invokes Apollin's aid,
Nor wards off ills that shall to him attain.
AOI.

II
King Marsilies he lay at Sarraguce,
Went he his way into an grove cool;
There on a throne he sate, of marble blue,
Round him his men, full twenty thousand, stood.
Called he forth then his counts, besides his dukes:
"My Lords, give ear to our at hand doom:
That Emperour, Cha