The Emir, rich and mighty lord, commands Before him to display his dragon-flag, The standard of Mahum and Tervagant; With it Apollo's image, evil god. Ten Canelieus about him ride, and cry This sermon with loud voice: "Who by our Gods Craves to be saved, with the most contrite heart Must pray!" And then the Pagans low incline Their heads and chins, with brilliant helms bent down To earth.--"Now, gluttons, comes your hour to die!" Cry out the French; "Confusion be your lot. This day, O God of ours, defend King Carle, Turn Thou the scale of battle to his side!" Aoi. CCXXXVIII. The Emir, great in wisdom, called his son And the two kings:--"Seigneurs Barons, in front Ride ye, and all my legions you shall lead; Among them only three will I retain, But of the best: The first shall be the Turks, The second of the Ormaleis composed, And third shall be the Giants of Malpruse, While those of Occiant shall near me stand To set them on King Carle and on his French. Should then the Emperor dare measure arms With me, struck from its trunk his head shall fall-- No right has he to other fate than this." Aoi. CCXXXIX. Both armies are immense; their squadrons bright. Between the combatants nor height, nor hill, Nor vale, nor wood that shelter could afford; Foe looks on foe across the open field.-- Said Baligant: "My Saracens, to horse! Ride forward to the fight!" The battle flag Is borne on high by Amboire d'Oliferne, And all shout "Precieuse!" The French exclaim: "May ye confounded be this day!" Aloud Rises their cry "Montjoie!" The Emperor Carle His trumpets bid resound, and the olifant Whose blast 'whelms all. The Pagans say: "Carle's host Is fair! Fierce battle shall we have and dire." Aoi. CCXL. Vast is the plain and broad the field. Behold Those dazzling helms inlaid with gold and gems, Those shields, those coats of mail with saffron edged, Those spears and pennons rolled; hearken ye the voice Of trumpets blowing clear and strong, and hark The olifant's shrill blast, which sounds the charge. The Emir calls his brother, Canabeu, The King of Floredee, who rules the land As far as Val-Sevree, and points to Carle's Ten must'ring legions: "See the pride of France The praised; amid his bearded knights how proud The Emperor rides! O'er their hauberks stream Their beards as white as snow upon the frost. Forsooth! These valiant warriors will strike hard With lance and sword, and such a fight be ours As never man has fought." Then Baligant, Urging his courser further than a man Can hurl a staff, gave reasons and their proof: "Come forward, Pagans; follow where I go!" Brandishing high the shaft of his own lance, At Carle he levels fair its trenchant steel. Aoi. CCXLI.