The Song of Roland · Chapter 103CIV
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Common the fight is now and marvellous. The count Rollanz no way himself secures, Strikes with his spear, long as the shaft endures, By fifteen blows it is clean broken through Then Durendal he bares, his sabre good Spurs on his horse, is gone to strike Chemuble, The helmet breaks, where bright carbuncles grew, Slices the cap and shears the locks in two, Slices also the eyes and the features, The hauberk white, whose mail was close of woof, Down to the groin cuts all his body through To the saddle; with beaten gold 'twas tooled. Upon the horse that sword a moment stood, Then sliced its spine, no join there any knew, Dead in the field among thick grass them threw. After he said "Culvert, false step you moved, From Mahumet your help will not come soon. No victory for gluttons such as you."