And let the thundering kettle-drum
Give challenge to the foe.
The foremost Moorish nobles, Molina's chosen band,
Rush forward from the city the invaders to withstand.
There marshalled in a squadron with shining arms they speed,
Like knights and noble gentlemen, to meet their country's need.
Twelve thousand Christians crowd the plain, twelve thousand warriors tried,
They fire the homes, they reap the corn, upon the vega wide;
And the warriors of Molina their furious lances ply,
And in their own Arabian tongue they raise the rallying cry.