their utmost
speed,
Then they galloped by in squadrons, tossing far the light jereed;
Then around the circus racing, faster than the swallow flies,
Did they spurn the yellow sawdust in the rapt spectators' eyes.

Proudly did the Moorish monarch every passing warrior greet,
As he sate enthroned above them, with the lamps beneath his feet;
"Tell me, thou black-bearded Cadi! are there any in the land,
That against my janissaries dare one hour in combat stand?"

Then the bearded Cadi answered--"Be not wroth, my lord the King,
If thy faithful slave shall venture to observe one little thing;
Valiant, doubtless, are thy warriors, and their beards are long and
hairy,
And a thunderbolt in battle is each bristly janissary:

"But I cannot, O my sovereign, quite forget that fearful day,
When I saw the Christian army in its terrible array;
When they charged across the footlights like a torrent down its bed,
With the red cross floating o'er them, and Fernando at their head!

"Don Fernando Gomersalez! matchless chieftain he in war,
Mightier than Don Sticknejo, {11} braver than the Cid Bivar!
Not a cheek within Grenada, O my king, but wan and pale is,
When they hear the dreaded name of Don Fernando Gomersalez!"

"Thou shalt see thy champion, Cadi! hither quick the captive bring!"
Thus in wrath and deadly anger spoke Al-Widdicomb, the King:
"Paler than a maiden's forehead is the Christian's hue, I ween,
Since a year within the dungeons of Grenada he hath been!"

Then they brought the Gomersalez, and they led the warrior in;
Weak and wasted seemed his body, and his face was pale and thin;
But the ancient fire was burning, unsubdued, within his eye,
And his step was proud and stately, and his look was stern and high.

Scarcely from tumultuous cheering could the galleried crowd refrain,
For they knew Don Gomersalez and his prowess in the plain;
But they feared the grizzly despot and his myrmidons in steel,
So their sympathy descended in the fruitage of Seville. {12}

"Wherefore, monarch, hast thou brought me from the dungeon dark and
drear,
Where these limbs of mine have wasted in confinement for a year?
Dost thou lead me forth to torture?--Rack and pincers I defy!
Is it that thy base grotesquos may behold a hero die?"

"Hold thy peace, thou Christian caitiff, and attend to what I say!
Thou art called the starkest rider of the Spanish cur's array
If thy courage be undaunted, as they say it was of yore,
Thou mayst yet achieve