Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 2.djvu/89

 So raged the king, and with a chosen train, He pours resistless o'er the heaps of slain. Oh bold companions of my toils, he cries, Our dear-loved freedom on our lances lies; Behold your friend, your monarch leads the way, And dares the thickest of the iron fray. Say, shall the Lusian race forsake their king, Where spears infuriate on the bucklers ring!


 * He spoke; then four times round his head he whirl'd

His ponderous spear, and midst the foremost hurl'd; Deep through the ranks the forceful weapon past, And many a gasping warrior sigh'd his last. With