thousand deaths appay!"

XXXV
So said, she spurred at him amid the throng;
But, first -- "Defend thee, false Rogero!" -- cried.
"No more, if I have power, in spoil and wrong,
Done to a virgin heart, shalt thou take pride."
Hearing that voice the hostile ranks among,
He deems -- and truly deems -- he hears his bride;
Whose voice the youth remembers in such wise,
That mid a thousand would he recognize.

XXXVI
Her further meaning well did he divine,
Weening that him she in that speech would blame,
For having broke their pact; and -- with design,
The occasion of his failure to proclaim, --
Of his desire for parley made a sign:
But she, with vizor closed, already came,
Raging and grieved, intent, with vengeful hand,
To fling the youth; nor haply upon sand.

XXXVII
Rogero, when he saw her so offended,
Fixed himself firmly in his arms and seat,
He rests his lance, but holds the stave suspended,
So that it shall not harm her when they meet,
She that to smite and pierce the Child intended,
Pitiless, and inflamed with furious heat,
Has not the courage, when she sees him near,
To fling, or do him outrage with the spear.

XXXVIII
Void of effect, 'tis thus their lances go;
And it is well; since Love with burning dart,
Tilting this while at one and the other foe,
Has lanced the enamoured warriors in mid-heart.
Unable at the Child to aim her blow,
The lady spent her rage in other part,
And mighty deeds achieved, which fame will earn,
While overhead the circling heavens shall turn.

XXXIX
Above three hundred men in that affray
In little space by her dismounted lie,
Alone that warlike damsel wins the day;
From her alone the Moorish people fly.
To her Rogero, circling, threads his way,
And says: "Unless I speak with you I die.
Hear me, for love of heaven! -- what done I done,
Alas! that ever mine approach ye shun?"

XL
As when soft southern breezes are unpent,
Which with a tepid breath from seaward blow,
The snows dissolve, and torrents find a vent,
And ice, so hard erewhile, is seen to flow;
At those entreaties, at that brief lament,
Rinaldo's sister's heart is softened so;
Forthwith compassionate and pious grown;
Which anger fain had made more hard than stone.

XLI
Would she not, could she not, she nought replied,
But spurred aslant the ready Rabicane,
And, signing to Rogero, rode as wide