His body only, however, not a particle of his soul. So dreadful
was the blow which the paladin gave in return, that not only
shield, but every bit of mail on the body of Agrican was broken in
pieces, and three of his ribs cut asunder.

The Tartar, roaring like a lion, raised his sword with still
greater vehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the paladin's
helmet, such as he had never yet received from mortal man. For a
moment it took away his senses. His sight failed, his ears
tingled, his frightened horse turned about to fly; and he was
falling from the saddle, when the very action of falling threw his
head upwards, and thus recalled his recollection.

"What a shame is this!" thought he; "how shall I ever again dare
to face Angelica! I have been fighting hour after hour with this
man, and he is but one, and I call myself Orlando! If the combat
last any longer I will bury myself in a monastery, and never look
on sword again."

Orlando muttered with his lips closed and his teeth ground
together; and you might have thought that fire instead of breath
came out of his nose and mouth. He raised his sword Durindana with
both his hands, and sent it down so tremendously on Agrican's
shoulder that it cut through breastplate down to the very haunch,
nay, crushed the saddle-bow, though it was made of bone and iron,
and felled man and horse to the earth. Agrican turned as white as
ashes, and felt death upon him. He called Orlando to come close to
him, with a gentle voice, and said, as well as he could: "I
believe on Him who died on the cross. Baptize me, I pray thee,