Let us give the literal translation of the lines in which M. Olivier finds such an expression of sublime vengeance:
“They come! they come! What a forest of lances!
With many-colored banners floating in the midst.
How the lightning flashes from their arms!
How many are there? Boy, count them well!
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve,
Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
…
They fly! they fly! Where, then, is the forest of lances?
Where the many-colored banners floating in the midst?