To keep the truce the rival warriors swore;
Since so it pleased her well, who either swayed.
One of their coursers lacked: for on the moor Lifeless King Mandricardo's had been laid:
Hence, thither, in good time, came Brigliador, Who, feeding, by the river's margin strayed.
But here I find me at my canto's end;
So, with your licence, shall the tale suspend.