Verse a nobler chieftain named:
He, before his lips for ever
Clos’d in silence, thus exclaimed:
“Oh! Belerma! Oh! my dear one,
For my pain and pleasure born,
Seven long years I serv’d thee, fair one,
Seven long years my fee was scorn.
“And when now thy heart, replying
To my wishes, burns like mine,
Cruel fate, my bliss denying,
Bids me every hope resign.
“Ah! though young I fall, believe me,
Death would never claim a sigh;
’Tis to lose thee, ’Tis to leave thee,
Makes me think it hard to die!
“Oh! my cousin Montesinos,
By that friendship firm and dear,
Which from youth has lived between us,
Now my last petition hear:
“When my soul, these limbs forsaking,
Eager seeks a purer air,
From my breast the cold heart taking,
Give it to Belerma’s care.
“Say, I of my lands possessor
Named her with my dying breath:
Say, my lips I op’d to bless her,
Ere they clos’d for aye in death:
“Twice a week, too, how sincerely
I ador’d her, cousin, say:
Twice a week, for one who dearly
Lov’d her, cousin, bid her pray.
“Montesinos, now the hour
Mark’d by fate is near at hand:
Lo! my arm has lost its power!
Lo! I drop my trusty brand.
“Eyes, which forth beheld me going,
Homewards ne’er shall see me hie:
Cousin, stop those tears o’erflowing,
Let me on thy bosom die.
“Thy kind hand my eye-lids closing,
Yet one favour I implore:
Pray thou for my soul’s reposing,
When my heart shall throb no more.
“So shall Jesus, still attending,
Gracious to a Christian’s vow,
Pleas’d accept my ghost ascending,
And a feat in heaven allow.”
Thus spoke gallant Durandarte;
Soon his brave heart broke in twain.
Greatly joy’d the Moorish party,
That the gallant knight was slain.
