oppressed and in suche wyse deteyned, that wyth four grete speres he was smyten and wounded mortally, and beten wyth stones, and hurte wyth dartes and other shotte mortally. And notwithstondyng these grevous hurtes and woundes yet maulgre al the sarasyns he sprange out of the bataylle, and sauved hymself the best wyse he myght. Bellegardus broder of Marfuryus, doubtyng that helpe and ayde sholde come to the crysten people, retorned into another countreye wyth hys peple moche hastely. And thempereur Charles had thenne passed the montagne of Roncyvale, and knewe nothynge of these thynges aforesayd, ne what he had doon. “_HOW Rolland deyed holyly after many martyres and orysons made to God ful devoutely, and of the complaynte maad for hys swerde Durandal. Capitulo_ iii. “Rolland the valyaunt, and champyon of the crysten fayth, was moche sorouful of the crysten men bycause they had noo socours. He was moche very gretely abasshed and moche affebled in hys persone, for he had lost moche of hys blode by his foure mortal woundes, of whych the leste of them was suffysaunt for hym to have deyed, and he had gret payn to get hym oute fro the Sarasyns, for to have a lytel commemoracyon of God before or the soule sholde depart fro hys body. So moche he enforced hym, that he came to the fote of a montayne nygh to the port of Cesarye, and brought hymself nygh to a rocke ryght by Roncyval, under a tree in a fayr medowe. Whan he sat doon on the grounde he byheld hys swerde, the best that ever was, named Durandal, whych is as moche to say as gyvyng an hard stroke, whych was ryght fayr and rychely made: the handle was of fyn beryle shynynge mervaylously, on it it had a fayre crosse of gold in the whych was wryton the name of Jhesus. It was so good and fyn that sooner sholde the arme fayle than the swerde: he toke it oute of the shethe, and sawe it shyne moche bryght, and bycause it sholde chaunge hys maister he had moche sorrowe in hys herte, and wepynge, he said in this maner pytously, ‘O swerde of valure, the fayrest that ever was, thou were never but fayr, ne never fonde I the but good! Thou hast been so moche honoured that alway thou barest with the the name of the blessed Jhesus, sauvyour of the world, which has endowed the wyth the power of God. Who may comprehende thy valure! Alas, who shal have the after me! Whosomever hath the shall never be vanquysshed; alway shall he have good fortune! Alas, what shall I moreover say for the good swerde; many sarasyns have been destroyed by the; thynfydels and myscreaunts have ben slayn by the; the name of God is exalted by the; by the is made the path of sauvement! O how many tymes have I by the avenged thynjury made to God! O how many men have I smyton, and cutte asondre by the myddle! O my swerde whych has ben my comfort and my joye, whych never hurtest persone that myght escape fro deth. O my swerde, yf ony persone of noo value sholde have the, and I knewe it, I sholde deye for sorowe!’ After that Rolland had