e and foot withdraws, and sends the array
Beneath the king of Fez, with a command
Behind the Moorish tents to make his way,
And those of Ireland in their march withstand,
Whom he sees hurrying with what haste they may,
And with wide wheel and spacious compass wind,
To fall upon the paynim camp behind.

LXXVII
The king of Fez upon this service prest;
For all delay might sore his work impede.
This while King Agramant unites the rest,
And parts the troops who to the battle speed.
He sought himself the river, where he guessed
The Moorish host might most his presence need;
And, from that quarter, had a courier prayed,
By King Sobrino sent, the monarch's aid.

LXXVIII
He more than half his camp behind him led,
In one deep phalanx. At the mighty sound
Alone, the Scotsmen trembled, and in dread
Abandoned honour, order, and their ground:
Lurcanio, Ariodantes, and their head,
Zerbino, there alone the torrent bound;
And haply he, who was afoot, had died,
But that in time his need Rinaldo spied.

LXXIX
Elsewhere the paladin was making fly
A hundred banners: while the cavalier
So chased the quailing Saracens, the cry
Of young Zerbino's peril smote the ear;
For, single and afoot, his chivalry
Amid the Africans had left the peer.
Rinaldo turned about and took his way
Where he beheld the Scots in disarray.

LXXX
He plants his courser, where their squadrons yield
To the fierce paynims, and exclaims: "Where go
Your bands, and why so basely quit the field,
Yielding so vilely to so vile a foe?
Behold the promised trophies, spear and shield,
Spoils which your loaded churches ought to show!
What praise! what glory! that alone, and reft
Of his good horse, your monarch's son is left!

LXXXI
He from a squire receives a lance, and spies
King Prusion little distant, sovereign
Of the Alvaracchiae, and against him hies;
Whom he unhorses, dead upon the plain.
So Agricalt, so Bambirago dies;
And next sore wounded is Sir Soridane;
Who had been slain as well amid the throng,
If good Rinaldo's lance had proved more strong.

LXXXII
That weapon broken, he Fusberta rears,
And smites Sir Serpentine, him of the star.
Though charmed from mischief are the cavalier's
Good arms, he falls astounded by the jar,
And thus Rinaldo round Zerbino clears
The field so widely, where those champions war,
That without more dis