[...] [Olivir:] "Oh! Oh! Friend Roland, when are you going to blow your horn? Your uncle could come to support us so that we might leave here joyfully. Now do this for the sake of my sister Alda. Save your troops!"

"That must be as God wills," replied Roland, raising his hand toward heaven, "and if it would not distress you, dear comrade, I'd take an oath never to sound it. This may well be the last day for all those heathens despite their great numbers; I tell you truly that God has condemned them. But God's holy martyrs are cleansed by blood. Would God that I were worthy of earning the name, for I'd dearly like to join them yonder. How blessed is the one who has been chosen to die in God's service, for he receives the kingdom of heaven as his reward. I'll not sound the horn because of this foul carrion; they would think we were afraid or needed help to withstand them, the worst of cowards. Their joyful singing will soon be stilled, for today I'll feed their carcasses to the ravens. God wants to show His wonders here and my good Durendart wants to prove its worth."

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