The valorous count, redoubling still his blows, Thought from the trunk the monarch's head to smite.
Sobrino, who the strength of Clermont knows, And how the shield ill boots, retired from fight, Yet not so far, but that upon his brows Fell the dread faulchion of Anglantes' knight:
'Twas on its flat, but such his might and main, It crushed the helm and stupefied the brain.