And now the Saracen with wary view Has pierced his weasand with the pointed sword.
Four others he neat that Diviner, slew, Nor gave the wretches time to say a word.
Sir Turpin in his story tells not who, And Time had of their names effaced record.
Palidon of Moncalier next he speeds;
One who securely sleeps between two steeds.
