, saw him win the arms;
Oh, 'twas the bravest act!

GERALDINE. Prithee, recount it.

WALTER. It was at Regal, close beleaguer'd then
By the duke Sigismund of Transylvania,
Our captain's general. One day, from the gate
There issued a gigantic mussulman,
And threw his gauntlet down upon the ground,
Daring our christian knights to single combat.
It was our captain, sir, pick'd up the glove,
And scarce the trump had sounded to the onset,
When the Turk Turbisha had lost his head.
His brother, fierce Grualdo, enter'd next,
But left the lists sans life or turban too.
Last came black Bonamolgro, and he paid
The same dear forfeit for the same attempt.
And now my master, like a gallant knight,
His sabre studied o'er with ruby gems,
Prick'd on his prancing courser round the field,
In vain inviting fresh assailants; while
The beauteous dames of Regal, who, in throngs
Lean'd o'er the rampart to behold the tourney,
Threw show'rs of scarfs and favours from the wall,
And wav'd their hands, and bid swift Mercuries
Post from their eyes with messages of love;
While manly modesty and graceful duty
Wav'd on his snowy plume, and, as he rode,
Bow'd down his casque unto the saddle bow.

GERALDINE. It was a deed of valour, and you've dress'd it
In well-beseeming terms. And yet, methinks,
I wonder at the ladies' strange delight;
And think the spectacle might better suit
An audience of warriors than of women.
I'm sure I should have shudder'd--that is, sir,
If I were woman.

WALTER. Cry your mercy, page;
Were you a woman, you would love the brave.
You're yet but boy; you'll know the truth of this,
When father Time writes man upon your chin.

GERALDINE. No doubt I shall, sir, when I get a beard.

WALTER. My master, boy, has made it crystal clear:
Be but a Mars, and you shall have your Venus.

_Song._--WALTER.

Captain Smith is a man of might,
In Venus' soft wars or in Mars' bloody fight:
For of widow, or wife, or of damsel bright,
A bold blade, you know, is all the dandy.

One day his sword he drew,
And a score of Turks he slew;
When done his toil,
He snatch'd the spoil,
And, as a part,
The gentle heart
Of the lovely lady Tragabizandy.

Captain Smith trod the Tartar land;
While before him, in terror, fled the turban'd band,
With his good broad-sword, that he whirl'd in his hand,
To a three-tail'd