Romanze II

When valiant Ferdinand beheld Granada to his prowess yield; And o'er Aihambra's highest tower The banner fly of Christian power;

Thus to the flower of Spanish ground, His peers and loyal leaders round, The mandates of his mighty breast, The monarch in his pride address'd.

'Who when the morning springs, will go 'Our chief against the mountain foe; 'And spread our princely ensign tall 'O'er Alpuxarra's rebel wall ?

In silence every troubled peer Read in each other's face his fear: The journey full of perils great They knew, and doubtful the retreat.

Each tremulons beard in terror shook, Till from his seat, with frowning look, Alonso de Aguilar sprung And thus bespoke with fearless tongue.

'O king, for me is this emprize, 'And shame or praise that thence may rise; 'The queen her sovereign promise gave 'No other the bright claim should have.'

With joy the king the valiant heard. Soon as the morrow's dawn appear'd, Alonso with his eager van To climb Nevada's heights began.

Five hundred horse to battle bred, A thousand infantry he led; The Moors in silent ambush lay. In crowds to guard the rocky way.

Amid the pathless cliffs the cry Of conflict echoes to the sky: The cavalry no footing gain, But fall by stony fragments slain.

Alonso, and the foot-array, Sore lessen'd by the bloody fray, At length attain an upland dale, Where countless Moors their ranks assail.

Tho bleed around whole bands of foes, Yet who such numbers may oppose? The chief at length beheld his host, In one unbounded slaughter lost.

Tho left alone, the lion-knight Declines not the unequal fight; Where'er he turns his eyes of fire, As struck by lightning crowds expire.

Fresh Moors possess the bloody field; No longer strong his sword to wield, The victim of a thousand wounds, The shade of death the chief surrounds.

Tho bravely dead, each coward Moor With caitiff lance his body tore; Then to Ogixar they him brought; Where all to see the warrior sought.

Each Moor and Moorish dame with joy Saw him, who wont their hopes destroy, No more exert his matchless force, But harmless ly a bleeding corse.

A Christian captive of the crowd Yet mov'd their tears with outcry loud: For she had nurs'd him at her breast, And in the cradle footh'd his rest.

'Alonso, Oh Alonso brave! 'May heaven thy generous spirit have! 'The Moors of Alpuxara slew 'The bravest knight that fame e'er knew.'