Chapter CXXIV

Marv'lous the battle, and the tumult fierce;
The French of strength and fury full, raise high
Their swords: backs, ribs and wrists are slashed; the flesh
Cut through rent garments to the quick; along
The verdant soil the red blood runs in streams.
The Pagans cry:--"We cannot more endure!
Great land, Mohammed curse thee!--More than all
This people bold."--Not one who does not cry
"Marsile! ride on, O King, thy aid we need!"
Aoi.