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The Song of Roland · Chapter 170CLXXI
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Then Rollanz feels that he has lost his sight, Climbs to his feet, uses what strength he might; In all his face the colour is grown white. In front of him a great brown boulder lies; Whereon ten blows with grief and rage he strikes; The steel cries out, but does not break outright; And the count says: "Saint Mary, be my guide Good Durendal, unlucky is your plight! I've need of you no more; spent is my pride! We in the field have won so many fights, Combating through so many regions wide That Charles holds, whose beard is hoary white! Be you not his that turns from any in flight! A good vassal has held you this long time; Never shall France the Free behold his like."