Chapter CXLIX

Olivier feels that he is hurt to death.
No vengeance can suffice him; Baron-like
He strikes amid the press, cuts shields embossed
And ashen shafts, and spears, feet, shoulders, wrists
And breasts of horsemen. He who saw him thus
Dismember Saracens, corse over corse
Heap on the ground, would of a vassal true
Remembrance keep. Nor does he now forget
The rallying cry of Carle:--"Montjoie!" he cries
Loudly and clear; then calls Rolland, his friend
And compeer:--"Sire companion, stand by me!
This day our breaking hearts forever part!"
Aoi.