that she be carried back to her tent (1) on a noble horse. May Allah Almighty have mercy on him (2) and water his resting place with mercy (3).
Section on how the vanquished enemy seized the city of Acre from the Sultan by force (4)(5)
When Jumada al-Awwal came, the siege laid by the Franks—may Allah curse them—around the city of Acre grew ever more severe. They converged upon it from every distant valley, and the King of England arrived with a vast host and great multitude, in twenty-five vessels packed with fighting men. The people of the coast were tested with a trial the like of which they had never faced before (6).
At that point the kūsāt (royal kettledrums) were beaten inside the city; this was the signal agreed upon between them and the Sultan. The Sultan likewise beat his kettledrums, drew nearer, and shifted his camp close to the city so as to divert them (7) from it. Yet the Franks had already surrounded it from every side (8) and set up against it seven manjanīqs (catapults) (9) that battered the city day and night, especially the Tower of ʿAyn al-Baqr, until they left on it a clearly visible scar (10).
They began to fill the moat with whatever they could find: the carcasses of dead animals and the bodies of those of their men who had been killed (11) or had otherwise died; while the townspeople countered them by carrying whatever they threw in back out to the sea.
The King of England (12) captured a huge Muslim transport ship that had come from Beirut, laden with goods and weapons, and took her. He lay at anchor with forty ships, allowing absolutely nothing to reach the city—may Allah curse him. Aboard that vessel (13) were six hundred valiant, stalwart fighters, every last one of whom perished—may Allah be pleased with them all (14).
When they found themselves encircled on every side, certain that they faced either drowning or slaughter, they opened holes in the hull on all sides and the ship sank. The Franks were unable to seize a single item from her, neither provisions nor weapons. The Muslims mourned this calamity with profound grief, for we