r their prisoners off to dungeon cell.
This while, Sir Baricond is, in the strife,
By Clarence's bold duke deprived of life.

LXX
Hence 'tis among the Moors amazement all,
While hence the Christians take such heart and pride,
The bands do nought but quit their ground and fall,
And break their order on the Paynim side,
What time the Christian troops come on, and gall
Their flying rants, which nowhere will abide:
And had not one arrived to aid their host.
The Paynim camp had on that side been lost.

LXXI
But Ferrau, who till this time ever nigh
Marsilius, scarce had quitted him that day,
When half destroyed he marked his chivalry,
And saw that baffled banner born away,
Pricked his good courser forth, in time to spy,
(Where mid those squadrons hottest waxed the fray)
With his head severed in a griesly wound,
Olympio de la Serra fall to ground:

LXXII
A stripling he, who such sweet musick vented,
Accorded to the horned lyre's soft tone;
That at the dulcet melody relented
The hearer's heart, though harder than a stone.
Happy! if, with such excellence contented,
He had pursued so fair a fame alone,
And loathed shield, quiver, helmet, sword and lance;
Destined by these to die a youth in France.

LXXIII
When bold French beheld his cruel plight,
For whom he love and much esteem profest,
He felt more pity at the doleful sight
Than, 'mid those thousands slain, for all the rest.
And smote the foe who slew him with such might,
That he his helm divided from the crest;
Cut front, eyes, visage, and mid bosom through,
And cast him down amid the slaughtered crew.

LXXIV
Nor stops he here, nor leaves a corslet whole,
Nor helm unbroken, where his sword is plied,
Of this the front or cheek, of that the poll,
The arm of other foe his strokes divide;
And he, of these divorcing body and soul,
Restores the wavering battle on that side;
Whence the disheartened and ignoble throng
Are scattered wide, and broke, and driven along.

LXXV
Into the medley pricks King Agramant,
Desirous there his bloody course to run;
With him King Baliverzo, Farurant,
Soridan, Bambirago, Prusion;
And next so many more of little vaunt,
Whose blood will form a lake ere day be done,
That I could count each leaf with greater ease
When autumn of their mantle strips the trees.

LXXVI
Agramant from the wall a numerous band
Of hors