XXVII.
“Remember, pagan, when thine arm laid low
“The brother of Angelica[9]. That knight
“Am I; thy word was plighted then to throw
“After my other arms this helmet bright.
“If Fortune now compel thee to forego
“The prize, and do my will in thy despite,
“Grieve not at this, but rather grieve that thou
“Art found a perjured traitor to thy vow.
XXVIII.
“But if thou seek’st a helmet, be thy task
“To win and wear it more to thy renown.
“A noble prize were good Orlando’s casque;
“Rinaldo’s such, or yet a fairer crown;
“Almontes’, or Mambrino’s iron masque:
“Make one of these, by force of arms, thine own.
“And this good helm will fitly be bestowed
“Where (such thy promise) it has long been owed.”
XXIX.
Bristled the paynim’s every hair at view
Of that grim shade, uprising from the tide,
And vanished was his fresh and healthful hue,
While on his lips the half-formed accents died.
Next hearing Argalìa, whom he slew,
(So was the warrior hight) that stream beside,
Thus his unknightly breach of promise blame,
He burned all over, flushed with rage and shame.
