CCXXVII

That Emperour canters in noble array, Over his sark all of his beard displays; For love of him, all others do the same, Five score thousand Franks are thereby made plain. They pass those peaks, those rocks and those mountains, Those terrible narrows, and those deep vales, Then issue from the passes and the wastes Till they are come into the March of Spain; A halt they've made, in th'middle of a plain. To Baligant his vanguard comes again A Sulian hath told him his message: "We have seen Charles, that haughty sovereign; Fierce are his men, they have no mind to fail. Arm yourself then: Battle you'll have to-day." Says Baligant: "Mine is great vassalage; Let horns this news to my pagans proclaim."

CCXXVIII

Through all the host they have their drums sounded, And their bugles, and, very clear trumpets. Pagans dismount, that they may arm themselves. Their admiral will stay no longer then; Puts on a sark, embroidered in the hems, Laces his helm, that is with gold begemmed; After, his sword on his left side he's set, Out of his pride a name for it he's spelt Like to Carlun's, as he has heard it said, So Preciuse he bad his own be clept; Twas their ensign when they to battle went, His chevaliers'; he gave that cry to them. His own broad shield he hangs upon his neck, (Round its gold boss a band of crystal went, The strap of it was a good silken web;) He grasps his spear, the which he calls Maltet;-- So great its shaft as is a stout cudgel, Beneath its steel alone, a mule had bent; On his charger is Baligant mounted, Marcules, from over seas, his stirrup held. That warrior, with a great stride he stepped, Small were his thighs, his ribs of wide extent, Great was his breast, and finely fashioned, With shoulders broad and very clear aspect; Proud was his face, his hair was ringleted, White as a flow'r in summer was his head. His vassalage had often been proved. God! what a knight, were he a Christian yet! His horse he's spurred, the clear blood issued; He's gallopped on, over a ditch he's leapt, Full fifty feet a man might mark its breadth. Pagans cry out: "Our Marches shall be held; There is no Frank, may once with him contest, Will he or nill, his life he'll soon have spent. Charles is mad, that he departs not hence." AOI.

CCXXIX

That admiral to a baron's like enough, White is his beard as flowers by summer burnt; In his own laws, of wisdom hath he much; And in battle he's proud and arduous. His son Malprimes is very chivalrous, He's great and strong;--his ancestors were thus. Says to his sire: "To canter then let us! I marvel much that soon we'll see Carlun." Says Baligant: "Yea, for he's very pruff; In many tales honour to him is done; He hath no more Rollant, his sister's son, He'll have no strength to stay in fight with us." AOI.

CCXXX

"Fair son Malprimes," then says t'him Baligant, "Was slain yestreen the good vassal Rollanz, And Oliver, the proof and valiant, The dozen peers, whom Charles so cherished, and Twenty thousand more Frankish combatants. For all the rest I'ld not unglove my hand. But the Emperour is verily come back, --So tells me now my man, that Sulian-- Ten great columns he's set them in their ranks; He's a proof man who sounds that olifant, With a clear call he rallies his comrades; These at the head come cantering in advance, Also with them are fifteen thousand Franks, Young bachelors, whom Charles calls Infants; As many again come following that band, Who will lay on with utmost arrogance." Then says Malprimes: "The first blow I demand." AOI.

CCXXXI

"Fair son Malprimes," says Baligant to him, "I grant it you, as you have asked me this; Against the Franks go now, and smite them quick. And take with you Torleu, the Persian king And Dapamort, another king Leutish. Their arrogance if you can humble it, Of my domains a slice to you I'll give From Cheriant unto the Vale Marquis." "I thank you, Sire!" Malprimes answers him; Going before, he takes delivery; 'Tis of that land, was held by king Flurit. After that hour he never looked on it, Investiture gat never, nor seizin.

CCXXXII

That admiral canters among his hosts; After, his son with's great body follows, Torleus the king, and the king Dapamort; Thirty columns most speedily they form. They've chevaliers in marvellous great force; Fifty thousand the smallest column holds. The first is raised of men from Butenrot, The next, after, Micenes, whose heads are gross; Along their backs, above their spinal bones, As they were hogs, great bristles on them grow. The third is raised from Nubles and from Blos; The fourth is raised from Bruns and Esclavoz; The fifth is raised from Sorbres and from Sorz; The sixth is raised from Ermines and from Mors; The seventh is the men of Jericho; Negroes are the eighth; the ninth are men of Gros; The tenth is raised from Balide the stronghold, That is a tribe no goodwill ever shews. That admiral hath sworn, the way he knows, By Mahumet, his virtues and his bones: "Charles of France is mad to canter so; Battle he'll have, unless he take him home; No more he'll wear on's head that crown of gold."

CCXXXIII

Ten great columns they marshal thereafter; Of Canelious, right ugly, is the first, Who from Val-Fuit came across country there; The next's of Turks; of Persians is the third; The fourth is raised of desperate Pinceners, The fifth is raised from Soltras and Avers; The sixth is from Ormaleus and Eugez; The seventh is the tribe of Samuel; The eighth is from Bruise; the ninth from Esclavers; The tenth is from Occiant, the desert, That is a tribe, do not the Lord God serve, Of such felons you never else have heard; Hard is their hide, as though it iron were, Wherefore of helm or hauberk they've no care; In the battle they're felon murderers. AOI.