There widest slaughter and dismay, where, proud
Of his recover’d Lord, Orelio plunged
Through thickest ranks, trampling beneath his feet
The living and the dead. Where’er he turns
The Moors divide and fly. What man is this,
Appall’d they say, who to the front of war
Bareheaded offers thus his naked life?
Replete with power he is, and terrible,
Like some destroying Angel! Sure his lips
Have drank of Kaf’s dark fountain, and he comes