VII As in her rocky cavern the she-bear, With whom close warfare Alpine hunters wage, Uncertain hangs about her shaggy care, And growls in mingled sound of love and rage, To unsheath her claws, and blood her tushes bare, Would natural hate and wrath the beast engage; Love softens her, and bids from strife retire, And for her offspring watch, amid her ire. VIII Cloridan who to aid him knows not how, And with Medoro willingly would die, But who would not for death this being forego, Until more foes than one should lifeless lie, Ambushed, his sharpest arrow to his bow Fits, and directs it with so true an eye, The feathered weapon bores a Scotchman's brain, And lays the warrior dead upon the plain. IX Together, all the others of the band Turned thither, whence was shot the murderous reed; Meanwhile he launched another from his stand, That a new foe might by the weapon bleed, Whom (while he made of this and that demand, And loudly questioned who had done the deed) The arrow reached -- transfixed the wretch's throat, And cut his question short in middle note. X Zerbino, captain of those horse, no more Can at the piteous sight his wrath refrain; In furious heat, he springs upon Medore, Exclaiming, "Thou of this shalt bear the pain." One hand he in his locks of golden ore Enwreaths, and drags him to himself amain; But, as his eyes that beauteous face survey, Takes pity on the boy, and does not slay. XI To him the stripling turns, with suppliant cry, And, "By thy God, sir knight," exclaims, "I pray, Be not so passing cruel, nor deny That I in earth my honoured king may lay: No other grace I supplicate, nor I This for the love of life, believe me, say. So much, no longer, space of life I crave. As may suffice to give my lord a grave. XII "And if you needs must feed the beast and bird, Like Theban Creon, let their worst be done Upon these limbs; so that by me interred In earth be those of good Almontes' son." Medoro thus his suit, with grace, preferred, And words -- to move a mountain, and so won Upon Zerbino's mood, to kindness turned, With love and pity he all over burned. XIII This while, a churlish horseman of the band, Who little deference for his lord confest, His lance uplifting, wounded overhand The unhappy suppliant in his dainty breast. Zerbino, who the cruel action scanned, Was deeply stirred, the rather that, opprest And livid with the blow the churl had sped, Medoro fell as he was wholly dead. XIV So grieved Zerbino, with such wrath was stung, "Not unavenged shalt thou remain," he cries; Then full of evil will in fury sprung Upon the author of the foul emprize. But he his vantage marks, and, from among The warriors, in a moment slips and flies. Cloridan who beholds the deed, at sight Of young Medoro's fall, springs forth to fight;