GAZUL’S ARMS

  “Now scour for me my coat of mail,
    Without delay, my page,
  For, so grief’s fire consumes me,
    Thy haste will be an age;
  And take from out my bonnet
    The verdant plumes of pride,
  Which once Azarco gave me,
    When he took to him his bride. 
  And in their place put feathers black,
    And write this motto there: 
  ’Heavy as lead is now his heart,
    Oppressed with a leaden care,’
  And take away the diamonds,
    And in their place insert
  Black gems, that shall to all proclaim
    The deed that does me hurt,
  For if thou take away those gems
    It will announce to all
  The black and dismal lot that does
    Unfortuned me befall. 
  And give to me the buskins plain,
    Decked by no jewels’ glow,
  For he to whom the world is false
    Had best in mourning go. 
  And give to me my lance of war,
    Whose point is doubly steeled,
  And, by the blood of Christians,
    Was tempered in the field. 
  For well I wish my goodly blade
    Once more may burnished glow;
  And if I can to cleave in twain
    The body of my foe. 
  And hang upon my baldric,
    The best of my ten swords. 
  Black as the midnight is the sheath,
    And with the rest accords. 
  Bring me the horse the Christian slave
    Gave to me for his sire,
  At Jaen; and no ransom
    But that did I require. 
  And even though he be not shod,
    Make haste to bring him here;
  Though treachery from men I dread,
    From beasts I have no fear. 
  The straps with rich enamel decked
    I bid you lay aside;
  And bind the rowels to my heel
    With thongs of dusky hide.” 
  Thus spake aloud the brave Gazul,
    One gloomy Tuesday night;
  Gloomy the eve, as he prepared
    For victory in the fight. 
  For on that day the news had come
    That his fair Moorish maid
  Had wedded with his bitterest foe,
    The hated Albenzaide. 
  The Moor was rich and powerful,
    But not of lineage high,
  His wealth outweighed with one light maid
    Three years of constancy. 
  Touched to the heart, on hearing this,
    He stood in arms arrayed,
  Nor strange that he, disarmed by love,
    ’Gainst love should draw his blade. 
  And Venus, on the horizon,
    Had shown her earliest ray
  When he Sidonia left, and straight
    To Jerez took his way.

THE TOURNAMENT

  His temples glittered with the spoils and garlands of his love,
  When stout Gazul to Gelvas came, the jouster’s skill to prove. 
  He rode a fiery dappled gray, like wind he scoured the plain;
  Yet all her power and mettle could a slender bit restrain;
  The livery of his pages was purple, green, and red—­
  Tints gay as was the vernal joy within