“Yet say not that ’tis in thy power
    To yield or all my hopes to kill;
  For thou shalt learn that all the world,
    In leaguer, cannot bend my will.

  “And France can tell how many a time
    I fought upon the tented field,
  And forced upon their bended knee
    Her loftiest paladins to yield.

  “I vanquished many a valiant knight
    Who on his shield the lilies bore;
  And on Vandalia’s plain subdued
    Of Red Cross warriors many a score.

  “The noblest I had brought to yield
    Upon Granada’s gory plain,
  Did I not shrink with such vile blood
    The honor of my sword to stain.”

  At this the trumpets called to arms;
    Without one farewell word each knight
  Turned from the lady of his heart
    And spurred his steed in headlong flight.

THE KING’S DECISION

  Amid a thousand sapient Moors
    From Andalusia came,
  Was an ancient Moor, who ruled the land,
    Rey Bucar was his name.

  And many a year this sage had dwelt
    With the lady he loved best;
  And at last he summoned the Cortes,
    As his leman made request.

  The day was set on which his lords
    And commoners should meet,
  And they talked to the King of his wide realm’s need,
    As the King sat in his seat.

  And many the laws they passed that day;
    And among them a law that said
  That the lover who took a maid for his love
    The maid of his choice must wed;
  And he who broke this ordinance
    Should pay for it with his head.

  And all agreed that the law was good;
    Save a cousin of the King,
  Who came and stood before him,
    With complaint and questioning;

  “This law, which now your Highness
    Has on your lieges laid,
  I like it not, though many hearts
    It has exultant made.

  “Me only does it grieve, and bring
    Disaster on my life;
  For the lady that I love the best,
    Is already wedded wife;

  “Wedded she is, wedded amiss;
    Ill husband has she got. 
  And oft does pity fill my heart
    For her distressful lot.

  “And this one thing I tell thee, King,
    To none else has it been told: 
  If I think her love is silver,
    She thinks my love is gold.”

  Then spake Rey Bucar in reply,
    This sentence uttered he: 
  “If thy love be wedded wife, the law
    Hath no penalty for thee.”

ALMANZOR AND BOBALIAS

  The King Almanzor slept one night,
    And, oh! his sleep was blest;
  Not all the seven Moorish kings
    Could dare to break his rest.

  The infante Bobalias
    Bethought of him and cried: 
  “Now rouse thee, rouse thee, uncle dear! 
    And hasten to my side.