Had Balisarda smote him full, though crowned With Hector's helm, the enchantment had been vain.
So reels the Tartar, by that stroke astound, He from the bristle-hand lets go the rein:
Thrice with his head he threats to smite the ground, While his unguided courser scowers the plain;
That Brigliadoro, whom by name you know, Yet, for his change of master, full of woe.