LX
Chelindo and Mosco (bastards were the twain
Of Calabrun, late king of Arragon),
And one esteemed among the valiant train,
Calamidor, of Barcellona's town,
Leaving their standards, in the hope to gain,
By young Zerbino's death, a glorious force,
And wounded in his flanks the prince's horse.
LXI
Pierced by three lances lay the courser strong,
But bold Zerbino quickly rose anew;
And, eager to avenge his charger's wrong,
The assailants, where he sees them, will pursue.
Zerbino at Mosco first, that overhung
Him, in the hope to make him prisoner, flew,
And pierced him in the flank; who from his sell,
Pallid and cold, upon the champaign fell.
LXII
When him so killed, as 'twere by stealthy blow,
Chelindo viewed, to avenge his brother slain,
He charged, intent the prince to overthrow;
But he seized fast his courser by the rein,
And, thence to rise not, laid the charger low,
Destined no more to feed on hay or grain;
For at one stroke, so matchless was his force,
Zerbino cleft the rider and his horse.
LXIII
When that fell blow Calamidor espied,
He turned the bridle short to speed away,
But him with downright cut Zerbino plied
Behind, and cried withal, "Stay, traitor, stay."
Nor from its aim the sword-stroke wandered wide,
Though from the mark it went somedeal astray;
The falchion missed the rider as he fled,
But reached the horse's croup, and stretched him dead,
LXIV
He quits the horse, and thence for safety crawls;
But he with little boot escapes his foe;
For him Duke Thraso's horse o'erturns and mawls,
Opprest the ponderous courser's weight below.
Where the huge crowd upon Zerbino falls,
Ariodantes and Lurcanio go;
And with them many a cavalier and count,
Who do their best Zerbino to remount.
LXV
Then Artalico and Margano knew
The force of Ariodantes' circling brand:
While Casimir and Enearco rue
More deeply yet the puissance of his hand.
Smote by the knight, escaped the former two;
The others were left dead upon the strand.
Lurcanio shows what are his force and breath;
Who charges, smites, o'erturns, and puts to death.
LXVI
Sir, think not that more inland on the plain
The warfare is less mortal than along
The stream, nor that the troops behind remain
Which to the duke of Lancaster belong.
He valiantly assailed the flags of Spain,
And long in even scale the battle hung.
For Horse and Foot, and Captains of those bands,
On either side, could deftly ply their hands.
LXVII
Forward Sir Oldrad pricks and Fieramont;
This Glocester's duke, and York's the other knight;
With them conjoined is Richard, Warwick's count,
And the bold duke of Clarence, Henry hight.
These Follicon and Matalista front,
And Baricond, with all they lead to fight.
Almeria this, and that Granada guides,
And o'er Marjorca Baricond presides.
LXVIII
Well matched awhile the Christian and the Moor
Appeared, without advantage in the fray.
Not this, now that gave ground, like corn before
The light and fickle breeze which blows in May:
Or as the sea which ripples on the shore,
Still comes and goes, nor keeps one certain way,
When hollow Fortune thus had sported long,
She proved disastrous to the paynim throng.
LXIX
The duke of Glocester Matalista bold
Assailed this while, and hurtled from his sell;
Fieramont Follicon o'erturned and rolled,
In the right shoulder smit, on earth as well.
The advancing English either paynim hold,
And bear their prisoners off to dungeon cell.
This while, Sir Baricond is, in the strife,
By Clarence's bold duke deprived of life.