The death of the Count of Toulouse, on the other hand, is described as it is in the “General Chronicle” of Alfonso the Wise; and so are the vision of Saint Millan, and the Count’s personal fights with a Moorish king and the King of Navarre. In truth, many passages in the poem so much resemble the corresponding passages in the Chronicle, that it seems certain one was used in the composition of the other; and as the poem has more the air of being an amplification of the Chronicle than the Chronicle has of being an abridgment of the poem, it seems probable that the prose account is, in this case, the older, and furnished the materials of the poem, which, from internal evidence, was prepared for public recitation.[150] [150] Crónica General, ed. 1604, Parte III. f. 55. b, 60. a-65. b. Compare, also, Cap. 19, and Mariana, Historia, Lib. VIII. c. 7, with the poem. That the poem was taken from the Chronicle may be assumed, I conceive, from a comparison of the Chronicle, Parte III. c. 18, near the end, containing the defeat and death of the Count of Toulouse, with the passage in the poem as given by Cortina, and beginning “Cavalleros Tolesanos trezientos y prendieron”; or the vision of San Millan (Crónica, Parte III. c. 19) with the passage in the poem beginning “El Cryador te otorga quanto pedido le as.” Perhaps, however, the following, being a mere rhetorical illustration, is a proof as striking, if not as conclusive, as a longer one. The Chronicle says, (Parte III. c. 18,) “Non cuentan de Alexandre los dias nin los años; mas los buenos fechos e las sus cavallerías que fizo.” The poem has it, in almost the same words:-- Non cuentan de Alexandre · las noches nin los dias; Cuentan sus buenos fechos · e sus cavalleryas. The meeting of Fernan Gonzalez with the King of Navarre at the battle of Valparé, which occurs in both, is thus described in the poem:-- And now the King and Count were met · together in the fight, And each against the other turned · the utmost of his might, Beginning there a battle fierce · in furious despite. And never fight was seen more brave, · nor champions more true; For to rise or fall for once and all · they fought, as well they knew; And neither, as each inly felt, · a greater deed could do; So they struck and strove right manfully, · with blows nor light nor few. Ay, mighty was that fight indeed, · and mightier still about The din that rose like thunder · round those champions brave and stout: A man with all his voice might cry · and none would heed his shout; For he that listened could not hear, · amidst such rush and rout. The blows they struck were heavy; · heavier blows there could not be; On both sides, to the uttermost, · they struggled manfully, And many, that ne’er rose again, · bent to the earth the knee, And streams of blood o’erspread the ground, · as on all sides you might see.