And save his morion had been more than good, Bold Olivier had breathed his last, who lies, So battered with his fall, it seemed he wou'd Bequeath his parting soul to paradise.
Astolpho and Dudon, that again upstood (Albeit swoln were Dudon's face and eyes)
And Sansonet, who plied so well his sword, All made together at Anglantes' lord.
