LVII.

Richly caparisoned, a ready row Of arméd horse, and many a warlike store, Circled the wide-extending court below; Above, strange groups adorned the corridore; And oft-times through the area's echoing door Some high-capped Tartar spurred his steed away: The Turk--the Greek--the Albanian--and the Moor, Here mingled in their many-hued array, While the deep war-drum's sound announced the close of day.[ff]