They hissed like serpents, they roared like lions,
They soared like eagles, and the two clashed.
And then you could see a fight between fine brave youths.
In the heat of the battle they struck continuously,
and from the great clashing and the cut and thrust
trees were uprooted and the sun was darkened,
Blood flowed down over their horse-trappings
and their sweat ran out over their breastplates.
Constantine’s black horse was speedier,
and its rider was a marvellous young man.
He charged at the emir and struck him a blow with his stick,
and then the emir began to tremble and flee.
A Saracen addressed the emir in his own tongue:
"Seize the youngster, my lord, and grab a quick victory,
so that he doesn’t take your head off with his sudden turn.
He has made a fine attack on you and now he might finish you off.
I don’t think, my lord, you are going to do him much harm,
" but don’t let him boast that he routed an army.
"When the emir heard this, he withdrew some way from the youth,
he threw away his spear and showed him his finger,
and with this gesture said these words:
May you live and rejoice, young man, for victory is yours."