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| | The Song of Roland: Verses CLXII - CCXXXIII |
 | | Arm yourself then: Battle you'll have to-day." 3135 Says Baligant: "Mine is great vassalage; Let horns this news to my pagans proclaim." CCXXVIII Through all the host they have their drums sounded, And their bugles, and, very clear trumpets. |
 | | That warrior, with a great stride he stepped, Small were his thighs, his ribs of wide extent, Great was his breast, and finely fashioned, 3160 With shoulders broad and very clear aspect; Proud was his face, his hair was ringleted, White as a flow'r in summer was his head. |
 | | CCXXX "Fair son Malprimes," then says t'him Baligant, 3185 "Was slain yestreen the good vassal Rollanz, And Oliver, the proof and valiant, The dozen peers, whom Charles so cherished, and Twenty thousand more Frankish combatants. |
| sunsite.berkeley.edu /OMACL/Roland/r162-233.html (6076 words) |
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