CLVII.

Hardly had Turpin fallen on the earth, By four spear-shafts transfixed, when the brave knight Sprang quickly to his feet once more. His look Sought for Rollánd to whom he ran in haste. One word he said:--"Unconquered yet am I! While life doth last, a true knight yields it not!" He draws Almace, his sword of burnished steel, And rushing 'mid the throng, one thousand blows And more he deals.--Carle said in after days, Turpin spared none, as dead upon the field He saw four hundred men, some cut in twain, Some with lopped heads: so says the Geste of France, And one who saw the field, the brave Saint-Gille For whom God showed his might; who in the cloister Of Loüm wrote the record of these deeds. Who knows not this, he knows not any thing. Aoi.