And Guineman tilts with the king Leutice;Has broken all the flowers on his shield, Next of his sark he has undone the seam, All his ensign thrust through the carcass clean, So flings him dead, let any laugh or weep.
Upon that blow, the Franks cry out with heat:
"Strike on, baron, nor slacken in your speed!
Charle's in the right against the pagan breed;God sent us here his justice to complete."AOI.
