Capitolo 75
The most greater part as a bold of baron,
Ridden first of the society,
Whose armor shone as gold.
Its feelings and actions are every appropriate way to a hero. "One
of us two", it says him, it owes "to die: I am an earl as you,
then you cannot have pretense to refuse the fight; however,"
it says him, "it is the pity, and indeed it would be a sin how so many
innocent men should perish for our causes: rather does her and me to end
our dispute in the only struggle:"
"Before so I want out-faced both,
One of us that two will die;
I know well thee, an earl you the art,
God Percy, so it is me.
"But it has trust in me, Percy is sorry for both
And the great offense to kill
Some of these our harmless men,
For them you/they have done anybody sick.
"You leave me and you the test of battle,
And he/she set aside our men."
"Accurst is him", God that has said Percy,
"From who this is to deny."
When these brave men were distinguished in the battle and
in the only fight him a with the other, in the mean of a generous lecture,
full of the heroic feelings, the Scottish earl falls, and with his to die
words encourage its men to avenge its death, while representing to them,
as his most bitter circumstance, that his/her competitor saw him/it fall:
With that there it came to a funeral complaint of arrow
Out of an arc English,
What it struck Earl Douglas to the heart
A deep and deadly hit.
Who spoke never words more than these,
"You fight on, my men happy everybody,
For because, my life is to an end,
God Percy sees my fall."
Happy men, in the language of those times I am anybody more than a
happy word for companions and individual-soldiers. A passage in the
the eleventh book of the "AEneid" of Virgil will be admired a lot of, where
Camilla, in his/her last agonies instead of crying on the wound her
you/he/she had received, for as one would be waited by a warrior of his/her sex,
it only considers, as the hero whose we am now speaking, as the
battle should be continued after its death:
Tum sic the exspirans, & the c.
VIRG., AEn. xi. 820.
An o'erclouds of fog of gath'ring his/her happy eyes;