XII Nor bulwark, stone, nor arbalest, nor bow, Nor what upon the paynim smote beside, Sufficed to arrest the sanguinary foe; Who broke and hewed, and shook that portal wide, And in his fury let such day-light through, 'Twas easy to espy -- and might be spied -- In visages o'ercast in death-like sort, That full of people was the palace court. XIII Through those fair chambers echoed shouts of dread, And feminine lament from dame distrest; And grieving, through the house, pale women fled, Who wept, afflicted sore, and beat their breast. And hugged the door-post and the genial bed, Too soon to be by stranger lords possest. The matter in this state of peril hung When thither came the king, his peers among. XIV Charles turned him round to these, of vigorous hand, Whom he had found in former peril true. "Are you not those that erst with me did stand 'Gainst Agolant in Aspramont? In you Is vigour now so spent, (he said), the band, Who him, Troyano, and Almontes slew, With hundreds more, that you now fear to face One of that very blood, that very race? XV "Why should I now in contest with the foe Less strength in you behold than them? Your might Upon this hound (pursued the monarch) show; This hound who preys on man. -- A generous sprite The thought of death -- approach he fast or slow -- So that he dies but well, holds cheap and light. But where you are, I doubt my fortune ill, For by your succour, have I conquered still." XVI This said, he spurred his courser, couched his spear, And charged the paynim; nor of life less free, Sir Ogier joined the king in his career; Namus and Oliver; and, with the three, Avino, Avolio, Otho, and Berlinghier: (For one without the rest I never see) And on the bosom, flanks, and on the front, All smote together at King Rodomont. XVII But let us, sir, for love of Heaven, forego Of anger and of death the noisome lore; And be it deemed that I have said enow, For this while, of that Saracen, not more Cruel than strong; 'tis time in trace to go Of Gryphon, left with Origille, before Damascus' gate, and him who with her came, The adulterer, not the brother of the dame. XVIII Of all the cities under eastern skies, Most wealthy, populous, and fairly dight, 'Tis said, Damascus is; which distant lies From Salem seven days' journey; its fair site, A fertile plain, abundant fruits supplies, Winter and summer, sojourn of delight. Shading the city from the dawning day, A mountain intercepts its early ray. XIX Two crystal streams the wealthy city scower; Whose currents, parted into many a rill, Infinite gardens, never bare of flower, Or stript of leaf, with grateful murmur fill: 'Tis said the perfumed waters are of power (So plenteously they swell) to turn a mill; And that whoever wander through the streets, Scent, issuing from each home, a cloud of sweets.