CCLXV
Pagans are slain; the rest are put to rout
Whom Charlès hath in battle overpowered.
Of Sarraguce the gates he’s battered down,3650
For well he knows there’s no defence there now;
In come his men, he occupies that town;
And all that night they lie there in their pow’r.
Fierce is that King, with ’s hoary beard, and proud,
And Bramimunde hath yielded up her towers;—3655
But ten were great, and lesser fifty around.
Great exploits his whom the Lord God endows!
CCLXVI
Passes the day, the darkness is grown deep,
But all the stars burn, and the moon shines clear.
And Sarraguce is in the Emperour’s keep.3660
A thousand Franks he bids seek through the streets,
The synagogues and the mahumeries;
With iron malls and axes which they wield
They break the idols and all the imageries;
So there remain no fraud nor falsity.3665
That King fears God, and would do His service,
On water then Bishops their blessing speak,
And pagans bring into the baptistry.
If any Charles with contradiction meet
Then hanged or burned or slaughtered shall he be.3670
Five score thousand and more are thus redeemed,
Very Christians; save that alone the queen
To France the Douce goes in captivity:
By love the King will her conversion seek.
CCLXVII
Passes the night, the clear day opens now.3675
Of Sarraguce Charles garrisons the tow’rs;
A thousand knights he’s left there, fighters stout;
Who guard that town as bids their Emperour.
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