Most nobly on the Emp'ror Carle proceeds.

His long beard flowing o'er his coat of mail,

And so, for love of him, the knights, whereby,

Are surely known the hundred thousand Franks;

They march through mountains and o'ertopping peaks,

Deep vales, defiles of frightful look. At last

Leaving the narrow pass and wasted land,

They reach the Spanish bourne and make a halt

Amid a plain. Meanwhile to Baligant

Return his vanguard scouts; a Syrian spy

Heralds the news,—"We saw the proud King Carle.

His warriors fierce will never fail their King.

To arms—Within a moment look for fight!"

Baligant cried:—"Good news for our brave hearts!

Sound all your trumps and let my Pagans know!"

Aoi.