Whom all were free to buffet and to spoil,
Until they wet that cruel Afric soil
With mingled blood and tears, and scarcely thought
They would with life to that day’s end be brought:
XXXI.
So that when they were thrust in harshest wise
Into a noisome vault at that day’s close,
That noisome vault appeared a paradise,
Because it gave some shelter from the blows,
The taunts and insults of their cruel foes—