Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/137

 Ye see my son, who goes on Carlun’s track, And with his arms so many lords attacks; Better vassal than him I’ll not demand. Go, succour him, each with his trenchant lance!” Upon that word the pagans all advance; Grim blows they strike, the slaughter’s very grand. And marvellous and weighty the combat: Before nor since was never such attack. AOI.

Great are the hosts; the companies in pride Come touching, all the breadth of either side; And the pagans do marvellously strike. So many shafts, by God! in pieces lie And crumpled shields, and sarks with mail untwined! So spattered all the earth there would you find That through the field the grass so green and fine With men’s life-blood is all vermilion dyed. That admiral rallies once more his tribe: “Barons, strike on, shatter the Christian line.” Now very keen and lasting is the fight, As never was, before or since that time; The finish none shall reach, unless he die. AOI.

That admiral to all his race appeals: “Pagans, strike on; came you not therefore here? I promise you noble women and dear, I promise you honours and lands and fiefs.” Answer pagans: “We must do well indeed.” With mighty blows they shatter all their spears; Five score thousand swords from their scabbards leap, Slaughter then, grim and sorrowful, you’d seen. Battle he saw, that stood those hosts between. AOI.