Chapter CLXXI

High are the mounts, and lofty are the trees.
Four terraces are there, of marble bright:
There Count Rolland lies senseless on the grass.
Him at this moment spies a Saracen
Who lies among the corpses, feigning death,
His face and body all besmeared with blood.
Sudden he rises to his feet, and bounds
Upon the Baron.--Handsome, brave and strong
He was, but from his pride sprang mortal rage.
He seized the body of Rolland, and grasped
His arms, exclaiming thus:--"Here vanquished Carle's
Great nephew lies!"--"This sword to Araby
I'll bear."--He drew it;--this aroused the Count.
Aoi.