Still the old man stood erect.

And Alp's career a moment checked.

"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,

For thine own, thy daughter's sake." 850

"Never, Renegado, never!

Though the life of thy gift would last for ever."[qg]

"Francesca!—Oh, my promised bride![qh]

Must she too perish by thy pride!"

"She is safe."—"Where? where?"—"In Heaven;

From whence thy traitor soul is driven—

Far from thee, and undefiled."

Grimly then Minotti smiled,

As he saw Alp staggering bow

Before his words, as with a blow. 860

"Oh God! when died she?"—"Yesternight—

Nor weep I for her spirit's flight:

None of my pure race shall be

Slaves to Mahomet and thee—

Come on!"—That challenge is in vain—

Alp's already with the slain!

While Minotti's words were wreaking

More revenge in bitter speaking

Than his falchion's point had found,

Had the time allowed to wound, 870

From within the neighbouring porch

Of a long defended church,

Where the last and desperate few

Would the failing fight renew,

The sharp shot dashed Alp to the ground;

Ere an eye could view the wound

That crashed through the brain of the infidel,

Round he spun, and down he fell;

A flash like fire within his eyes

Blazed, as he bent no more to rise, 880

And then eternal darkness sunk

Through all the palpitating trunk;[qi]

Nought of life left, save a quivering

Where his limbs were slightly shivering:

They turned him on his back; his breast

And brow were stained with gore and dust,

And through his lips the life-blood oozed,

From its deep veins lately loosed;

But in his pulse there was no throb,

Nor on his lips one dying sob; 890

Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath[qj]

Heralded his way to death:

Ere his very thought could pray,

Unaneled he passed away,

Without a hope from Mercy's aid,—

To the last a Renegade.[397]