Chapter CCLXIII

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Pagans are fled, ev'n as the Lord God wills;
Chase them the Franks, and the Emperour therewith.
Says the King then: "My Lords, avenge your ills,
Unto your hearts' content, do what you will!
For tears, this morn, I saw your eyes did spill."
Answer the Franks: "Sir, even so we will."
Then such great blows, as each may strike, he gives
That few escape, of those remain there still.