y his name the paladin defies:
With him, and both his partners in the fight,
He hopes to make it dark before 'tis night.

LXXXIII
Leaving his foe, he, facing Brava's lord,
Thrust at the collar of his shirt of mail,
All else beside the flesh the faulchion bored;
To pierce through which would every labour fail.
At the same time descends Orlando's sword,
(Where Balisarda bites no spells avail)
Shears helmet, cuirass, shield, and all below,
And cleaves whate'er it rakes with headlong blow;

LXXXIV
And in face, bosom, and in thigh it seamed,
Beneath his mail, the king of Sericane.
From whom his blood till how had never streamed
Since he that armour wore; new rage and pain
Thereat the warrior felt, and strange it seemed
Sword cut so now, nor yet was Durindane.
Had Roland struck more home, or nearer been,
From head to belly he had cleft him clean.

LXXXV
No more in arms can trust the cavalier
As heretofore; for proved those arms have been:
He with more care, more caution than whilere,
Prepares to parry with the faulchion keen.
When entered Brandimart sees Brava's peer,
Who snatched that battle from him, he between
Those other conflicts placed himself, that where
It most was needed, he might succour bear.

LXXXVI
While so the fight is balanced 'mid those foes,
Sobrino, that on earth long time had lain,
When to himself he was returned, uprose,
In face and shoulder suffering grievous pain.
He lifts his face, his eyes about him throws;
And thither, where more distant on the plain
He sees his leader, with long paces steers
So stealthily, that none his coming hears;

LXXXVII
He on the Marquis came, who had but eyes
For Agramant, and in the warrior's rear,
Wounded upon the hocks in such fierce wise
The courser of unheeding Olivier,
That he falls headlong; and beneath him lies
His valiant master, nor his foot can clear;
His left foot, which in that unthought for woe,
Was in the stirrup jammed, his steed below.

LXXXVIII
Sorbine pursued, and with back-handed blow
Thought he his head should from his neck have shorn;
But this forbids that armour, bright of show,
By Vulcan hammered, and by Hector worn.
Brandimart sees his risque, and at the foe
Is by his steed, with flowing bridle, borne.
Sobrino on the head he smote and flung;
But straight from earth that fierce old man upsprung;

LXXXIX
And turn