"Go and ask the Romans, whose army was even larger than yours, how many foreign cohorts the sod of old Gaul has devoured! Even the greatest battles that they, the conquerors of the world delivered, did not cost them one-quarter the number of soldiers that our fathers, as insurgent slaves, exterminated with their scythes and forks. Take care! Strong and sharp is the sword of the Gallic soldier; trenchant is the scythe, heavy the fork of the Gallic husbandman in the defense of hearth, family and freedom! Take care! If you persist in remaining bad neighbors, the Gallic scythe and fork will be enough to drive you back into your snow-bound wilderness, ye people of sloth, of rapine and of carnage, who desire to enjoy the fruits of the labors of others, who covet their soil, their wives and their sunshine, and strive after these by means of theft and massacre!" "Dare you, Gallic dog, hold such language to us!" cried Neroweg grinding his teeth. "You, a prisoner! You, under the points of our swords! under the edge of the Frankish battle axe!" "The moment seems to me opportune to say the truth to the enemies of Gaul!" "And I think the moment is opportune to put you through a thousand deaths!" cried the Frankish king in a passion as towering as that of his fellows. "Yes, you shall undergo a thousand deaths--and after that, my sole answer to the audacious message of your Victoria will be to return your head to her with the announcement in the name of Neroweg the Terrible Eagle, that, before the sun shall have risen six times, I shall capture herself in the midst of her own camp, shall take her to my bed, and shall then pass her over to my men, that they may, in turn, enjoy Victoria, the proud Gallic woman!" I lost all control over myself at the ribald and ferocious insolence flung at the woman whom I venerated above all others. I was unarmed, but I picked up one of the now extinguished firebrands that lay at my feet and which the Franks had used to torture me with; I seized the heavy log, and swift as lightning struck Neroweg so sound a blow with it over his head that he reeled back, stumbled and fell to the ground unconscious. Ten swords struck me almost simultaneously. But my casque and cuirass protected me. In their blind rage the Frankish chiefs struck at random, and cried: "Death! Death to the dog of a Gaul!" Only Riowag, the captain of the black warriors, did not join in the attempt to avenge upon my person the blow I dealt to his rival, Neroweg. On the contrary, he profited by the tumult to enter the cavern into which Elwig had been driven back, the entrance of which was now left free, seeing that the two kings, who, sword in hand, mounted guard before it, rushed to the assistance of the Terrible Eagle, who lay prostrate at a distance from them. Immediately after Riowag entered the grotto, the priestess and her two assistant hags rushed out. With streaming hair, haggard looks, and hands raised heavenward they cried: