The prisoner of thy hand!.. Roderick replied,
O good Siverian, happier victory
Thy son hath now atchieved,.. the victory Over the world, his sins and his despair. If on the field my body should be found, See it, I charge thee, laid in Julian's grave, And let no idle ear be told for whom
Thou mournest. Thou wilt use Orelio As doth beseem the steed which hath so oft Carried a king to battle :.. he hath done Good service for his rightful Lord to-day, And better yet must do. Siverian, now Farewell! I think we shall not meet again Till it be in that world where never change Is known, and they who love shall part no more. Commend me to my mother's prayers, and say That never man enjoyed a heavenlier peace Than Roderick at this hour. O faithful friend, How dear thou art to me these tears may tell!
With that he fell upon the old man's neck; Then vaulted in the saddle, gave the reins, And soon rejoined the host. On, comrades, on!
Victory and Vengeance! he exclaimed, and took The lead on that good charger, he alone Horsed for the onset. They with one consent Gave all their voices to the inspiring cry, Victory and Vengeance! and the hills and rocks Caught the prophetic shout and rolled it round. Count Pedro's people heard amid the heat Of battle, and returned the glad acclaim. The astonished Musslemen, on all sides charged, Hear that tremendous cry; yet manfully They stood, and every where with gallant front Opposed in fair array the shock of war.
Desperately they fought, like men expert in arms, And knowing that no safety could be found, Save from their own right hands. No former day Of all his long career had seen their chief Approved so well; nor had Witiza's sons Ever before this hour atchieved in fight Such feats of resolute valour. Sisibert Beheld Pelayo in the field afoot,
And twice essayed beneath his horse's feet
To thrust him down. Twice did the Prince evade
The shock, and twice upon his shield received
The fratricidal sword. Tempt me no more, Son of Witiza, cried the indignant chief, Lest I forget what mother gave thee birth! Go meet thy death from any hand but mine! He said, and turned aside. Fitliest from me! Exclaimed a dreadful voice, as through the throng Orelio forced his way; fitliest from me
Receive the rightful death too long withheld! "Tis Roderick strikes the blow! And as he spake, Upon the traitor's shoulder fierce he drove The weapon, well-bestowed. He in the seat Tottered and fell. The Avenger hastened on In search of Ebba; and in the heat of fight Rejoicing and forgetful of all else, Set up his cry as he was wont in youth, Roderick the Goth!.... his war-cry
Pelayo eagerly took up the word,
And shouted out his kinsman's name beloved, Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory! Roderick and Vengeance! Odoar gave it forth; Urban repeated it, and through his ranks Count Pedro sent the cry. Not from the field Of his great victory, when Witiza fell,
With louder acclamations had that name
Been borne abroad upon the winds of heaven. The unreflecting throng, who yesterday,
If it had past their lips, would with a curse Have clogg'd it, echoed it as if it came From some celestial voice in the air, reveal'd To be the certain pledge of all their hopes. Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory! Roderick and Vengeance! O'er the field it spread, All hearts and tongues uniting in the cry; Mountains and rocks and vales re-echoed round; And he rejoicing in his strength rode on,
Laying on the Moors with that good sword, and smote, And overthrew, and scatter'd, and destroy'd,
And trampled down; and still at every blow Exultingly he sent the war-cry forth, Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory! Roderick and Vengeance!
Thus he made his way,
Smiting and slaying through the astonish'd ranks, Till he beheld where on a fiery barb,
Ebba, performing well a soldier's part,
Dealt to the right and left his deadly blows.
With mutual rage they met. The renegade Displays a scymitar, the splendid gift
Of Walid from Damascus sent; its hilt Embossed with gems, its blade of perfect steel, Which like a mirror sparkling to the sun
With dazzling splendour flashed. The Goth objects His shield, and on its rim received the edge Driven from its aim aside, and of its force Diminished. Many a frustrate stroke was dealt On either part, and many a foin and thrust Aimed and rebated; many a deadly blow Straight, or reverse, delivered and repelled. Roderick at length with better speed hath reached The apostate's turban, and through all its folds The true Cantabrian weapon making way
Attained his forehead. Wretch! the avenger cried, It comes from Roderick's hand! Roderick the Goth, Who spared, who trusted thee, and was betrayed! Go tell thy father now how thou hast sped With all thy treasons! Saying thus, he seized The miserable, who, blinded now with blood, Reeled in the saddle; and with sidelong step Backing Orelio, drew him to the ground.
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