y knew not the
truth: it was the great mourning for the death of Roland.

Many French Knights Fall

In this second battle the French champions were weary, and before long
they began to fall before the valour of the newly arrived Saracen
nobles. First died Engelier the Gascon, mortally wounded by the lance
of that Saracen who swore brotherhood to Ganelon; next Samson, and the
noble Duke Anseis. These three were well avenged by Roland and Oliver
and Turpin. Then in quick succession died Gerin and Gerier and other
valiant Peers at the hands of Grandoigne, until his death-dealing
career was cut short by Durendala. Another desperate single combat was
won by Turpin, who slew a heathen emir "as black as molten pitch."

The Second Army Defeated

Finally this second host of the heathens gave way and fled, begging
Marsile to come and succour them; but now of the victorious French
there were but sixty valiant champions left alive, including Roland,
Oliver, and the fiery prelate Turpin.

A Third Appears

Now the third host of the pagans began to roll forward upon the
dauntless little band, and in the short breathing-space before the
Saracens again attacked them Roland cried aloud to Oliver:

"'Fair Knight and Comrade, see these heroes,
Valiant warriors, lying lifeless!
I must mourn for our fair country
France, left widowed of her barons.
Charles my King, why art thou absent?
Brother mine, how shall we send him
Mournful tidings of our struggle?'
'How I know not,' said his comrade.
'Better death than vile dishonour.'"

Roland Willing to Blow his Horn

"'Comrade, I will blow my war-horn:
Charles will hear it in the passes
And return with all his army.'
Oliver quoth: ''Twere disgraceful
To your kinsmen all their life-days.
When I urged it, then you would not;
Now, to sound your horn is shameful,
And I never will approve it.'"

Oliver Objects. They Quarrel

"'See, the battle goes against us:
Comrade, I shall sound my war-horn.'
Oliver replied: 'O coward!
When I urged it, then you would not.
If fair France again shall greet me
You shall never wed my sister;
By this beard of mine I swear it!'

"'Why so bitter and so wrathful?'
Oliver returned: ''Tis thy fault;
Valour is not kin to madness,
Temperance knows naught of fury.
You have killed these noble champions,
You have slain the Emper