Roland seems to enjoy a personal relationship to his own sword. Ah Durendal, he says, beautiful and most sacred. Roland extols his weapon and long-time companion, one might even say his partner, as he is dying. The weapon is sacred. An angel bestowed upon Charlemagne both Roland's sword, Durendal and the horn, or olifant, which we encountered in the Charlemagne Window at Chartres. The word for horn, or olifant, comes from elephant, of which it is the tusk. Here, we see an elaborately worked elephant tusk horn from right around the time of The Song of Roland, which can still be seen in Paris' Cluny, or Museum of the Middle Ages. As we can see in the upper panel of this German manuscript illumination, an angel brought both sword and olifant to Charlemagne. And in the lower panel Charlemagne presented them to Roland. The sword is sacred, because it contains the relics of saints both from Saint Denis, and even a piece of Mary's robe to be found, it'll be remembered, at Chatres. The holy relics, in this golden pommel! Saint Peter's tooth and blood of Saint Basil. A lock of hair of my lord Saint Denis, and a fragment of blessed Mary's robe, your powers must not fall to the pagans, says Roland. Roland is past-master when it comes to the capture of arms. And in the almost total absence of emotion, he becomes enraged at the thought of losing his sword Durendal, whose root syllable, dur, means hard. And if you make a verb out of it, durer, it means to last or to endure, which is just what Roland does. We saw Roland trying to break his sword at the top of the Charlemagne Window at Chatres. Here's another illumination of the same scene. Only here in the upper panel Roland both tries to break his sword, and offers his glove to Saint Michael, who descends from the sky to take back the warrior's pledge of homage. In the lower panel Charlemagne takes Durendal from the hand of the dead Roland. And an angel appears to Charlemagne, to proclaim that Joshua's miracle of the sun, stayed in its course, has been renewed so that the Emperor might avenge his nephew's death, upon the Emir Baligant, who arrives suddenly from the Middle East. Roland's sword contains not only precious gems, but is inscribed with the whole history of his military past. Ah Durendal, he says, how beautiful and bright. So full of light, all on fire in the sun. King Charles was in the vales of Moriane when God sent his angel and commanded him from Heaven to give you to a captain count. That great and noble King girded it on me, and with this sword, I won Anjou and Brittany. I won Poitou, I won Le Maine for Charles, and Normandy, that land where men are free. I won Provence and Aquitaine with this, and Lombardy, and every field of Romagna. I won Bavaria, and all of Flanders, all of Poland, and Bulgaria for Charles. Constantinople, which pledged him loyalty, and Saxony, where he does as he wills, and with this sword I won Scotland and Ireland, and England, his chamber, his own domain, the lands, the nations I conquered with this sword for Charles who rules them now, whose beard is white. Roland, the loyal and good warrior, embodies the spirit of a golden age of chivalry and honor, he participates in the distribution of arms of course. But he also gains something far more precious, that is to say, reputation or honor. Roland would rather die than lose face. He does die rather than lose face. Indeed at the peak of battle, urged by Oliver the Wise to do the prudent thing, to sound his horn and seek Charlemagne's help, Roland at first refuses. He's afraid of losing his reputation in France. I'd be a fool to do it, I would lose my good name through sweet France, he says. He's afraid of disgracing his family. May it never please God that my kin should be shamed because of me. He is afraid of letting down the emperor and the Frankish warriors, who are not yet French.
