Orpas and Abulcacem sent me here;
The service of the Caliph and the Faith
Required the blow.
The Prophet and the Fiend
Reward thee then! cried Cottila; meantime
Take thou from me thy proper earthly meed;
Villain!... and lifting as he spake the sword,
He smote him on the neck: the trenchant blade
Through vein and artery pass’d and yielding bone
And on the shoulder, as the assassin dropt,