e not such hammering, and in shivers flew;
And the bold Saracen, bereft of brand
Was in the combat left with unarmed hand.

CXXIV
But not for this doth Rodomont refrain:
He swoops upon the Child, unheeding aught:
So sore astounded is Rogero's brain;
So wholly overclouded is his thought.
But him the paynim well awakes again,
Whom by the neck he with strong arm has caught,
And gripes and grapples with such mighty force,
He falls on earth, pulled headlong from his horse.

CXXV
Yet leaps from earth as nimbly, moved by spleen
Far less than shame; for on his gentle bride
He turned his eyes, and that fair face serene
Now troubled the disdainful warrior spied.
She in sore doubt her champion's fall had seen;
And well nigh at that sight the lady died.
Rogero, quickly to revenge the affront,
Clutches his sword and faces Rodomont.

CXXVI
He at Rogero rode, who that rude shock
Shunned warily, retiring from his ground,
And, as he past, the paynim's bridle took
With his left had, and turned his courser round;
While with his right he at his rider struck,
Whom he in belly, flank and breast would wound;
And twice sore anguish felt the monarch, gored
In flank and thigh, by good Rogero's sword.

CXXVII
Rodomont, grasping still in that close fight
The hilt and pommel of his broken blade,
Layed at Rogero's helmet with such might,
That him another stroke might have dismaid:
But good Rogero, who should win of right,
Seizing his arm, the king so rudely swayed,
Bringing his left his better hand to speed,
That he pulled down the paynim from his steed.

CXXVIII
Through force or skill, so fell the Moorish lord,
He stood his match, I rather ought to say
Fell on his feet; because Rogero's sword
Gave him, 'twas deemed, advantage in the fray.
Rogero stands aloof, with wary ward
As fain to keep the paynim king at bay.
For the wise champion will not let a wight
So talk and bulky close with him in fight;

CXXIX
Rogero flank and thigh dyed red beheld,
And other wounds; and hoped he would have failed
By little and by little, as it welled;
So that he finally should have prevailed.
His hilt and pommel in his fist yet held
The paynim, which with all his might he scaled
At young Rogero; whom he smote so sore,
The stripling never was so stunned before.

CXXX
In the helmet-cheek and shoulder-bone below
The Child was sm