Canto

 1     1|        mine?~ ~ XXVII~"Remember, pagan, when thine arm laid low~
 2     2|     hated lord.~ ~ III~He to the Pagan cries: "Forego thy theft,~
 3    18|        is gone,~Where the fierce Pagan in his clutch had prest~
 4    26|   Against the tempered helm that pagan wore~Sounded the blow, an
 5    26|   fragments broke,~But the stout pagan winced not for the stroke.~ ~
 6    28|       encounters equal pain;~The pagan monarch so found small relief,~
 7    29| mysteries and her every deed~The pagan, present still, gave curious
 8    29|          neck to that unthinking pagan's brand;~Unthinking, and
 9    29|      stream below.~ ~ XXXVII~The pagan had imagined, as a pain,~
10    29|         those he conquers are of pagan strain,~He is content to
11    29|         shame: in evil trim,~The pagan, by his arms impeded sore,~
12    31|    upbraid?"~ ~ XCIX~Then to the pagan thus: "Gradasso hear,~And
13    35|          bridge and river to the pagan king.~ ~ XXXVII~"Besides
14    35|    strangers thither sped --~The pagan arms him, girds his goodly
15    38|          for the purpose, by the pagan train;~Where their king
16    41|     voice and haughty cheer,~The pagan interrupted, and replied:~" `