Page:The Song of Roland.djvu/74

 That count Gerins sate on his horse Sorel, On Passe-Cerf was Gerers there, his friend; They’ve loosed their reins, together spurred and sped, And go to strike a pagan Timozel; One on the shield, on hauberk the other fell; And their two spears went through the carcass well, A fallow field amidst they’ve thrown him dead. I do not know, I never heard it said Which of the two was nimbler as they went. Esperveris was there, son of Borel, And him there slew Engelers of Burdel. And the Archbishop, he slew them Siglorel, The enchanter, who before had been in hell, Where Jupiter bore him by a magic spell. Then Turpin says: “To us he’s forfeited.” Answers Rollanz: “The culvert is bested. Such blows, brother Olivier, I like well.”

The battle grows more hard and harder yet, Franks and pagans, with marvellous onset, Each other strike and each himself defends. So many shafts bloodstained and shatterèd, So many flags and ensigns tatterèd; So many Franks lose their young lustihead, Who’ll see no more their mothers nor their friends, Nor hosts of France, that in the pass attend. Charlès the Great weeps therefor with regret. What profits that? No succour shall they get. Evil service, that day, Guenes rendered them, To Sarraguce going, his own to sell. After he lost his members and his head, In court, at Aix, to gallows-tree condemned; And thirty more with him, of his kindred, Were hanged, a thing they never did expect. AOI.