Alarm’d at this, the swarthy Queen, in haste, From all her havoc and destructive waste 590 Broke off, and her contempt of death to show, | Leap’d in between the Monarch and the foe, | To save the King and state from this impending blow. | But Phoebus met a worse misfortune here: For Hermes now led forward, void of fear, 595 His furious Horse into the open plain, That onward chafed, and pranced, and pawed amain. Nor ceased from his attempts until he stood On the long-wished-for spot, from whence he could Slay King or Queen. O’erwhelm’d with sudden fears, 600 Apollo saw, and could not keep from tears. Now all seem’d ready to be overthrown; His strength was wither’d, ev’ry hope was flown. Hermes, exulting at this great surprise, Shouted for joy, and fill’d the air with cries; 605 Instant he sent the Queen to shades below, And of her spoils made a triumphant show. But in return, and in his mid career, Fell his brave Knight, beneath the Monarch’s spear. Phoebus, however, did not yet despair, 610 But still fought on with courage and with care. He had but two poor common men to show, And Mars’s favourite with his iv’ry bow. The thoughts of ruin made ’em dare their best To save their King, so fatally distress’d. 615 But the sad hour required not such an aid; And Hermes breathed revenge where’er he stray’d. Fierce comes the sable Queen with fatal threat, Surrounds the Monarch in his royal seat; Rushed here and there, nor rested till she slew 620 The last remainder of the whiten’d crew. Sole stood the King, the midst of all the plain, Weak and defenceless, his companions slain. As when the ruddy morn ascending high Has chased the twinkling stars from all the sky, 625 Your star, fair Venus, still retains its light, And, loveliest, goes the latest out of sight. No safety’s left, no gleams of hope remain; Yet did he not as vanquish’d quit the plain, But tried to shut himself between the foe,— | 630 Unhurt through swords and spears he hoped to go, | Until no room was left to shun the fatal blow. | For if none threaten’d his immediate fate, And his next move must ruin all his state, All their past toil and labour is in vain, | 635 Vain all the bloody carnage of the plain,— | Neither would triumph then, the laurel neither gain. | Therefore through each void space and desert tent, By different moves his various course he bent: The Black King watch’d him with observant eye, 640 Follow’d him close, but left him room to fly. Then when he saw him take the farthest line, He sent the Queen his motions to confine, And guard the second rank, that he could go No farther now than to that distant row. 645 The sable monarch then with cheerful mien Approach’d, but always with one space between. But as the King stood o’er against him there,