The day wears on and vesper draweth nigh.

Christians and Pagans, sword in hand, engage;

And valiant are their chiefs, nor mindless they

Of battle cries:—"Precieuse!" the Emir shouts,

And Carle:—"Montjoie!" the glorious sign. Each knows

The other by the clear sonorous voice,

And 'mid the field encountering, gives and takes

Fierce blows. Each massy shield receives the shock,

And each beneath the boss is cloven in twain

By the strong lance; each hauberk's sides are rent,

But the keen steel in neither reached the flesh;

The horse-girths burst and let the saddles fall.

Dropped to the earth both kings, both to their feet

Quick springing, dauntlessly unsheathed their swords.

And now the mortal combat will not cease

Till Carle or Baligant has fallen in death.

Aoi.