Built is Santa Fé; its bulwarks

Built is Santa Fé; its bulwarks With much waxen cloth o'erlaid, And within shine tents unnumbered, Tents of silk and gold brocade.

Dukes, and lords, and noble captains, Famed for valour, heroes all, Here are brought by King Fernando, To effect Granada's fall.

When, behold, a Moor at daybreak, Of tall stature meets their sight, Mounted on a noble charger, Spotted o'er with flakes of white.

On it comes with cleft lips chafing High against the rider's rein, Whilst the Moor at all the Christians Grinds his teeth in fell disdain.

Underneath his robes of scarlet, White, and blue, a shirt of mail Fortifies his heart most strongly, Should a thousand darts assail.

Two strong swords of tempered metal Grace his thigh, his hands a spear And tough target in Morocco Made, and purchased passing dear.

This gruff dog, in dreadful mockery, To his horse's tail had tied The adored AVE MARIA, As was but too soon descried.

At the camp arrived, he shouted, "Who will so fool-hardy be As to fight me? I defy you All,—come one, come two, come three!"

Out the Alcayde of Los Doncelos, Out the Count of Cabra stept, Both brave men, whose active falchions In the scabbard seldom slept.

Out came Gónzalo Fernandez, Out Martin Galindo came, With the bold Portocarrero, Palma's lord of mickle fame.

Out he stept too who so frankly Fetched the glove midst lions thrown, Frankly fetched it forth, the gallant Manuel Ponce de Leon.

With them ev'n King Don Fernando Rides, exclaiming, "Forward, ho! Soon we'll teach the ruffian whether We dare fight with him or no!"

On they rode, rejoiced to hear him Praise his vassals so, and each Begged that he that useful lesson To the infidel might teach.

Garcilasso too, a stripling Brave and daring, with great glee Rode with them, and begged the battle, Begged it on his bended knee.

"You're too young, good Garcilasso, You're yet much too young to die; There are numbers in my kingdom Fitter far the fight to try."

Deeply vexed at this refusal, Much confused the youth withdrew, But put on strange arms in secret, So that none his person knew.

On a coal-black steed, with ventail Down, he pricks to meet the Moor, And says to him—"Level lances Quickly; thou shalt see, be sure,

"If our noble king has gentles Bold enough to tilt with thee; I'm the least of all, yet beard thee, Beard thee by that king's decree."

Soon as seen, the bluff Moor scorned him, Saying, "Pray go back again; I'm accustomed to do battle, Not with boys, but bearded men:

"Pray go back, and let some other Who has passed his teens, advance!" Garcilasso, stung with fury, Spurred his steed, and couched his lance.

He a glorious stroke has dealt him! On his helm red sparkles burn; Like a thunderbolt the Paynim Wheels, the insult to return.

Striking, stricken; stricken, striking; Thus the round of combat ran; Garcilasso, though an infant, Showed the metal of a man.

He at length beneath the armpit Dealt the Moor a mortal wound: From his saddle fell the giant, Pale and groaning to the ground.

Garcilasso, quick alighting From his horse, approached the foe, Cut his head off, and in triumph Hung it at his saddle-bow.

Tore away the sacred AVE From its former place of shame, On his knees devoutly kissed it, Kissed the blessed Mary's name.

On his lance's point he bears it For a pendant, mounts his steed, With the Moor's in hand, returning, All the court applaud the deed.

Lords, and dukes, and noble captains, All were struck with great amaze, Whilst the king and queen, with plaudits Cheerly urged, repeat his praise.

Wonder some, and some amazement, Kept quite dumb, to see a Childe So exceeding young, triumphant O'er that big-boned Paynim vilde.

GARCILASSO DE LA VEGA They the youth thenceforward call, For his duel in the Vega Of Granada chanced to fall.