They fought desperately and successfully, for they fought for their
country and their faith. The battle raged for several hours; the field was
strown with slain, and the Moors, overcome by the multitude and fury of
their foes, began to falter.

When Taric beheld his troops retreating before the enemy, he threw himself
before them, and, rising in his stirrups, 'Oh, Moslems! conquerors of
Africa!' cried he, whither would you fly? The sea is behind you, the enemy
before; you have no hope but in your valor and the help of God. Do as I do
and the day is ours!'

With these words he put spurs to his horse and sprang among the enemy,
striking to right and left, cutting down and destroying, while his steed,
fierce as himself, trampled upon the foot soldiers and tore them with his
teeth. At this moment a mighty shout arose in various parts of the field;
the noontide hour had arrived. The Bishop Oppas with the two princes, who
had hitherto kept their bands out of the fight, suddenly went over to the
enemy, and turned their weapons upon their astonished countrymen. From
that moment the fortune of the day was changed, and the field of battle
became a scene of wild confusion and bloody massacre. The Christians knew
not whom to contend with, or whom to trust. It seemed as if madness had
seized upon their friends and kinsmen, and that their worst enemies were
among themselves.

The courage of Don Roderick rose with his danger. Throwing off the
cumbrous robes of royalty, and descending from his car, he sprang upon his
steed Orelia, grasped his lance and buckler, and endeavored to rally his
retreating troops. He was surrounded and assailed by a multitude of his
own traitorous subjects, but defended himself with wondrous prowess. The
enemy thickened around him; his loyal band of cavaliers were slain,
bravely fighting in his defence; the last that was seen of the king was in
the midst of the enemy, dealing death at every blow.

A complete panic fell upon the Christians; they threw away their arms and
fled in all directions. They were pursued with dreadful slaughter, until
the darkness of the night rendered it impossible to distinguish friend
from foe. Taric then called off his troops from the pursuit, and took
possession of the royal camp; and the couch which had been pressed so
uneasily on the preceding night by Don Roderick, now yielded sound repose
to his conqueror.

On the morning after the battle, the Arab leader, Taric ben Zeyad,