dead men. When
he comes he shall not find Roland alive." Then four hundred of them, the
strongest and most valiant knights that were in the army of the
heathen, gathered themselves into one company, and made a yet fiercer
assault on Roland.

Roland saw them coming, and waited for them without fear. So long as he
lived he would not yield himself to the enemy or give place to them.
"Better death than flight," said he, as he mounted his good steed
Veillantif, and rode towards the enemy. And by his side went Turpin the
Archbishop on foot. Then said Roland to Turpin, "I am on horseback and
you are on foot. But let us keep together; never will I leave you; we
two will stand against these heathen dogs. They have not, I warrant,
among them such a sword as Durendal."

"Good," answered the Archbishop. "Shame to the man who does not smite
his hardest. And though this be our last battle, I know well that King
Charles will take ample vengeance for us."

When the heathen saw these two stand together they fell back in fear and
hurled at them spears and darts and javelins without number. Roland's
shield they broke and his hauberk; but him they hurt not; nevertheless
they did him a grievous injury, for they killed his good steed
Veillantif. Thirty wounds did Veillantif receive, and he fell dead under
his master. At last the Archbishop was stricken and Roland stood alone,
for the heathen had fled from his presence.

When Roland saw that the Archbishop was dead, his heart was sorely
troubled in him. Never did he feel a greater sorrow for comrade slain,
save Oliver only. "Charles of France," he said, "come as quickly as you
may! Many a gallant knight have you lost in Roncesvalles. But King
Marsilas, on his part, has lost his army. For one that has fallen on
this side there have fallen full forty on that." So saying he turned to
the Archbishop; he crossed the dead man's hands upon his breast and
said, "I commit thee to the Father's mercy. Never has man served God
with a better will, never since the beginning of the world has there
lived a sturdier champion of the faith. May God be good to you and give
you all good things!"

Now Roland felt that his own death was near at hand. In one hand he took
his horn, and in the other his good sword Durendal, and made his way the
distance of a furlong or so till he came to a plain, and in the midst of
the plain a little hill. On the top of the hill in the shade of two fair
trees were four marble s