Now a
certain Roman rode in advance of his fellows, by reason of his good
horse, which was right speedy. He followed closely after the Britons,
calling loudly, "Lords, stay awhile. He knows himself guilty who flees
the pursuer." At his word Guerin of Chartres turned him about. He
set his buckler before him, and lowering the lance, hurtled upon his
adversary. Guerin rode but the one course. He smote the Roman so
fiercely, midmost the body, that he fell from his destrier, and died.
Guerin looked on the fallen man. He said, "A good horse is not always
great riches. Better for you had you lain coy in your chamber, than to
have come to so shameful an end." When Boso beheld this adventure of
Guerin, and heard his words, he was filled with desire of such honour.
He turned his horse's head, and seeing before him a knight seeking
advancement, ran upon him with the spear. Boso smote his adversary
in the throat, where the flesh is soft and tender. The Roman fell
straightway to the ground, for his hurt was very grievous. Boso cried
gaily to his stricken foe, "Master Roman, you must needs be fed with
gobbets and dainties. Take now your rest, till your comrades may tend
you. Then give them the message that I leave you in their care.
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