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The Song of Roland · Chapter 244CCXLV
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That admiral to all his race appeals: "Pagans, strike on; came you not therefore here? I promise you noble women and dear, I promise you honours and lands and fiefs." Answer pagans: "We must do well indeed." With mighty blows they shatter all their spears; Five score thousand swords from their scabbards leap, Slaughter then, grim and sorrowful, you'd seen. Battle he saw, that stood those hosts between. AOI.