That day display’d; for at his father’s grave
Did Roderick come to offer up his vow
Of vengeance well perform’d. Three coal-black steed
Drew on his ivory chariot: by his side,
Still wrapt in mourning for the long-deceased,
Rusilla state; a deeper paleness blanch’d
Her faded countenance, but in her eye
The light of her majestic nature shone.
Bound, and expecting at their hands the death
So well deserved, Witiza follow’d them;