Together with the mace he lops the fist;
And now this arm, now the other falls to ground;
Sometimes he cleaves the corslet's iron twist, And piecemeal shares and maims the felon round.
Orrilo re-unites the portions missed, Found on the champagne, and again is sound:
And, though into a hundred fragments hewed, Astolpho sees him, in a thought, renewed.
