In the Duke Naimes' brave heart what agony!

Once more the Pagan raised his arm to strike,

But now King Carle cries:—"Coward, wretch! This blow

Brings thee ill luck!"—And valiantly the King

Rushed on, crushed 'gainst his heart the buckler, rent

The hauberk's top; dead-struck the heathen King

Falls on the ground ... empty the saddle rests.

Aoi.