CCXXXIV.

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.