I

Charles the King, our Lord and Sovereign,

Full seven years hath sojourned in Spain,

Conquered the land, and won the western main.

Now no fortress against him doth remain,

No city walls are left for him to gain,

Save Sarraguce, that sits on high mountain.

Marsile its King, who feareth not God’s name,

Mahumet’s man, he invokes Apollin’s aid,

Nor wards off ills that shall to him attain.