So they advance carelessly—
“On they come! But lo their blunder!
When our lads start up anon,
Breaking out like unchained lions,
With a roar, ‘Fall on! Fall on!’”[8]
After relating the battle and the thoroughness of the victory, ending in the conflagration of five-and-twenty captured galleys, the poet concludes by an admonition to the enemy to moderate his pride and curb his arrogant tongue, harping on the obnoxious epithet porci leproxi, which seems to have galled the Genoese.[9] He concludes:—
“Nor can I at all remember
Ever to have heard the story
Of a fight wherein the Victors
Reaped so rich a meed of glory!”[10]