nt or by choice, it matters not) bore the blazon of
Orlando. It was Dardinel, the young and brave prince of Zumara, and
Rinaldo remarked him by the slaughter he spread all around. "Ah," said
he to himself, "let us pluck up this dangerous plant before it has
grown to its full height."
As Rinaldo advanced, the crowd opened before him, the Christians to let
his sword have free course, the Pagans to escape its sweep. Dardinel
and he stood face to face. Rinaldo exclaimed, fiercely, "Young man,
whoever gave you that noble buckler to bear made you a dangerous gift;
I should like to see how you are able to defend those quarterings, red
and white. If you cannot defend them against me, how pray will you do
so when Orlando challenges them?" Dardinel replied: "Thou shalt learn
that I can defend the arms I bear, and shed new glory upon them. No one
shall rend them from me but with life." Saying these words, Dardinel
rushed upon Rinaldo with sword uplifted. The chill of mortal terror
filled the souls of the Saracens when they beheld Rinaldo advance to
attack the prince, like a lion against a young bull. The first blow
came from the hand of Dardinel, and the weapon rebounded from
Mambrino's helmet without effect. Rinaldo smiled, and said, "I will now
show you if my strokes are more effectual." At these words he thrust
the unfortunate Dardinel in the middle of his breast. The blow was so
violent that the cruel weapon pierced the body, and came out a
palm-breadth behind his back. Through this wound the life of Dardinel
issued with his blood, and his body fell helpless to the ground.
As a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and
droops its head, so Dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness of
death, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish with him.
Like waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken, spread
abroad through all the country, so the Moors, no longer kept in column
by the example of Dardinel, fled in all directions. Rinaldo despised
too much such easy victories to pursue them; he wished for no combats
but with brave men. At the same time, the other paladins made terrible
slaughter of the Moors. Charles himself, Oliver, Guido, and Ogier the
Dane, carried death into their ranks on all sides.
The infidels seemed doomed to perish to a man on that dreadful day; but
the wise king, Marsilius, at last put some slight degree of method into
the general rout. He collected the remn
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