LXIX.
Grandonio de Volterna, fierce of mood,
And in all Spain the proudest cavalier,
The second for that fell encounter stood,
Such favour had his suit obtained whilere.
“To thee thy courtesy shall do no good,”
He threats, “for if unhorsed in the career
“A prisoner to my lord shalt thou be led;
“But, if I fight as wonted, thou art dead.”
LXX.
She cries, “I would not thy discourtesy
“Should make me so forget my courteous vein,
“But that aforehand I should caution thee
“Back to thy fortress to return again,
“Ere on hard earth thy bones shall battered be.
“Go tell thy king no champion of thy grain
“I seek, but hither come to crave the fight
“With warrior that is worthy of my might.”
LXXI.
Bradamant’s sharp and stinging answer stirred
The paynim’s fury to a mighty flame;
So that, without the power to speak a word,
He wheeled his courser, filled with rage and shame;
Wheeling as well, at that proud paynim spurred
Her horse with levelled lance the warlike dame.
As the charmed weapon smites Grandonio’s shield,
With heels in air, he tumbles on the field.
