The Emir Baligant rides through the ranks

Of all his host, escorted by his son

Of giant stature, and the Kings Torleu

And Dapamort. In line of battle soon

Stand thirty legions ranked. Countless the knights,

And fifteen thousand strong the weakest band

Can number. First are those of Butentrot,

The next of Misnia: enormous heads

O'ertop the spine enrooted in their backs,

Their shaggy bodies bristling with coarse hair

Like boars; the third, of Nubles and of Blos;

The legion fourth of Bruns and Esclavos;

The fifth of Sorbres and Sorz; from the Ermines

And Mors is formed the sixth; from Jericho

The seventh, and the eighth from those of Nigre.

Of Gros the ninth, and from Balide-la-Fort,

The legion tenth, men never good for aught.

With strongest oaths the Emir swears aloud

By all Mohammed's might and body, "Carle

Of France rides like a madman to his doom,

For combat we shall have; recoils he not,

His brow shall never more wear golden crown."

Aoi.