Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/184

Trembles beneath their hoofs the solid ground,
And, thick the fiery sparkles flash around,
A dreadful blaze! With pleasing horror thrill'd,
The crowd behold the terrors of the field.
Here stunn'd, and staggering with the forceful blow,
A bending champion grasps the saddle-bow;
Here backward bent a falling knight reclines,
His plumes dishonour'd lash the courser's loins.
So tired and stagger'd toil'd the doubtful fight,
When great Magricio kindling all his might
Gave all his rage to burn: with headlong force,
Conscious of victory, his bounding horse
Wheels round and round the foe; the hero's spear
Now on the front, now flaming on the rear,
Mows down their firmest battle; groans the ground,
Beneath his courser's smiting hoofs; far round
The cloven helms and splinter'd shields resound.
Here, torn and trail'd in dust the harness gay,
From the fall'n master springs the steed away;
Obscene with dust and gore, slow from the ground
Rising, the master rolls his eyes around,
Pale as a spectre on the Stygian coast,
In all the rage of shame confused and lost.
Here low on earth, and o'er the riders thrown,
The wallowing coursers and the riders groan:
Before their glimmering vision dies the light,
And deep descends the gloom of death's eternal night.
They now who boasted, "Let the sword decide,"
Alone in flight's ignoble aid confide:

Loud