[XCIX.]
Duke Sansun rushes on the Almazour; He splits the shield with painted flowers and gold Embossed. The strong-mailed hauberk shelters not, As he is pierced through liver, heart and lungs. For him may mourn who will—death-struck he falls: "That is a Baron's stroke!" the Archbishop cries. Aoi.
[C.]
Anseïs gives his steed the rein, and charges Fierce on Turgis de Turteluse; beneath The golden boss asunder breaks the shield, Rips up the hauberk double-linked; so true The thrust, that all the steel passed through his breast. With this one blow the shaft has struck him dead. Rollánd exclaimed: "The stroke is of a Knight!" Aoi.
[CI.]
Then Engelier, the Gascuin of Burdele, Spurs deep his horse, and casting loose the rein, Rushes upon Escremiz de Valterne; Breaks down the buckler fastened to his throat And rends his gorget-mail; full in the breast The lance strikes deep and passes in between The collar bones; dead from the saddle struck He falls.—And Turpin says: "Ye all are lost!" Aoi.
[CII.]
Othon assails a Pagan, Estorgant, His thrust hits hard the leather of the shield, Effacing its bright colors red and white, Breaks in his hauberk's sides, and plunges deep Within his heart a strong and trenchant spear, From off the flying steed striking him dead. This done, he says:—"No hope for you remains!" Aoi.
[CIII.]
And Berengier smites now Estramaris, Splits down his shield, shivers his coat of mail In shreds and through his bosom drives a lance. Dead 'midst one thousand Saracens he drops. Of their twelve Peers now ten have breathed their last: Chernuble—Margariz, the Count, survive. Aoi.