The Song of Roland · Chapter 257CCLVIII
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Passes that day, turns into vesper-tide. Franks and pagans still with their swords do strike. Brave vassals they, who brought those hosts to fight, Never have they forgotten their ensigns; That admiral still "Preciuse" doth cry, Charles "Monjoie," renowned word of pride. Each the other knows by his clear voice and high; Amid the field they're both come into sight, Then, as they go, great blows on either side They with their spears on their round targes strike; And shatter them, beneath their buckles wide; And all the folds of their hauberks divide; But bodies, no; wound them they never might. Broken their girths, downwards their saddles slide; Both those Kings fall, themselves aground do find; Nimbly enough upon their feet they rise; Most vassal-like they draw their swords outright. From this battle they'll ne'er be turned aside Nor make an end, without that one man die. AOI.