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.