More suited to my lord of Seville’s use
Than this good war-horse, ... he who never bore
A villain, until Orpas cross’d his back!...
Wretch! cried the astonish’d renegade, and stoopt,
Foaming with anger, from the saddle-bow
To reach his weapon. Ere the hasty hand
Trembling in passion could perform its will,
Roderick had seized the reins. How now, he cried,
Orelio! old companion, ... my good horse, ...
Off with this recreant burthen!... And with that