Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/183

The sun beholds not in his annual race
A twelve more sightly, more of manly grace
Than tower'd the English knights. With frothing jaws
Furious each steed the bit restrictive gnaws;
And rearing to approach the rearing foe,
Their wavy manes are dash'd with foamy snow:
Cross-darting to the sun a thousand rays
The champions helmets as the crystal blaze.
Ah now, the trembling ladies cheeks how wan!
Cold crept their blood; when through the tumult ran
A shout loud gathering: turn'd was every eye
Where rose the shout, the sudden cause to spy.
And lo, in shining arms a warrior rode,
With conscious pride his snorting courser trod;
Low to the monarch and the dames he bends,
And now the great Magricio joins his friends.
With looks that glow'd, exulting rose the fair,
Whose wounded honour claim'd the hero's care:
Aside the doleful weeds of mourning thrown,
In dazzling purple and in gold she shone.
Now, loud the signal of the fight rebounds
Quivering the air; the meeting shock resounds
Hoarse crashing uproar; griding splinters spring
Far round; and bucklers dash'd on bucklers ring:
Their swords flash lightning; darkly reeking o'er
The shining mail-plates flows the purple gore.
Torn by the spur, the loosened reins at large,
Furious the steeds in thundering plunges charge;

Trembles