With both his hands upheaved his sword on high;
And, even as he devised, upon the front,
Smote with mid blade Anglantes' haughty count.

XCVI
And would by any other so have done;
-- Would to the saddle-tree have cleft him clean:
But the good sword, as if it fell upon
Its flat, rebounds again, unstained and sheen.
The furious stroke astounded Milo's son
By whom some scattered stars on earth were seen.
He drops the bridle and would drop the brand,
But that a chain secures it to his hand.

XCVII
So by the noise was scared the horse that bore
Upon his back Anglantes' cavalier.
The courser scowered about the powdery shore,
Showing how good his speed in the career:
The County by that stroke astounded sore,
Has not the power the frightened horse to steer.
Gradasso follows and will reach him, so
That he but little more pursues the foe;

XCVIII
But turning round, beholds the royal Moor
To the utmost peril in that battle brought;
For by the shining helmet which he wore,
With the left hand, him Brandimart had caught;
Already had unlaced the casque before,
And with his dagger would new ill have wrought:
Nor much defence could make the Moorish lord;
For Brandimart as well had reft his sword.

XCIX
Gradasso turned, nor more Orlando sought,
But hastened where he Agramant espied:
The incautious Brandimart, suspecting nought
Orlando would have let him turn aside,
Had not Gradasso in his eyes or thought,
And to the paynim's throat his knife applied.
Gradasso came, and at his helmet layed,
Wielding with either hand his trenchant blade.

C
Father of heaven! 'mid spirits chosen by thee,
To him thy martyr true, a place accord;
Who, having traversed his tempestuous sea,
Now furls his sails in port. Ah! ruthless sword,
So cruel, Durindana, can'st thou be,
To good Orlando, to thine ancient lord,
That thou can'st slaughter, in the warrior's view,
Of all his friends the dearest and most true?

CI
An iron ring that girt his helmet round,
Two inches thick, was broke by that fell blow
And cleft; and with the solid iron bound,
Was parted the good cap of steel below,
Bold Brandimart, reversed upon the ground,
With haggard face beside his horse lies low;
And issuing widely from the warrior's head
A stream of life-blood dyes the shingle red.

CII
Come to himself, the County turns his eye
And sees his Bra