They halt irresolute before their foes,
Nor list to Longa’s voice nor mark his ken.
But Nial whom all loved was ’mongst them then,
And “adelante” crying waved his sword—
Leapt o’er the abatís i’ the lion’s den.
The generous Spaniards bounded at the word,
Saved “the fair boy” and smote the French with one accord.
XXXV.
To Rhune’s enormous sides the foemen fled,
Where ’neath Clausel the Gaul doth muster strong.