upon Tarifa’s field, they stand to front
that swarming host of stone-blind heathen men,
for whom are small the meadows and the mount.
No sprite there liveth of so tough a grain,
but feels its faith and trust of small account,
did it not clearly see and fully know,
Christ by His servants’ arms shall smite the foe.
110
“The seed of Hagar laughing, as it were,
to view the Christian pow’er so weak, so mean;
begins the lands, as though their own, to share
ere won, among the conqu’ering Hagarene;
such forgèd title and false style they bear
claiming the famous name of Saracene:
Thus with false reck’oning would they strip and spoil
calling it theirs, that noble alien soil.
111
“E’en so the barb’arous Giant huge and gaunt,
with cause to royal Saul so dread appearing
when seen the swordless Shepherd stand afront,
armed but with pebbles and with heart unfearing;
launchèd his sneer of pride and arr’ogant taunt
at the weak youngling’s humble raiment jeering,
who, whirled the sling, soon read the lesson well,
how much shall Faith all human force excel:
112
“Thus do the Moormen, traitor-souls, despise
our Christian forces, nor can understand
how Heav’en’s high fortress wonted aid affies,
which e’en horrific Hell may not withstand:
On this and on his skill Castile relies,
falls on Marocco’s King, strikes hand to hand:
The Portingall, who holds all danger light,
makes the Granádan kingdom fear his might.
113
“Behold! the brandisht blade and lance at rest,
rang loud on coat and crest, a wild onsèt!
They cried, as each his several law confest,
these ‘Sanct’ Thiago!’ and those ‘Muhammad!’
The cries of wounded men the skies opprest,
whose flowing blood in ugly puddles met,
where other half-slain wretches drowning lay,
who dragged their shatter’d limbs from out the fray.
114
“With such prevailing force the Lusian fought
the Gránadil, that in the shortest space
an utter ruin of his host was wrought;
ne fence, ne steely plate our strokes could face:
With such triumphant Vict’ory cheaply bought
unsatisfied, the Strong Arm79 flies apace,
and timely aids Castilia’s toiling pow’er,
still mixt in doubtful conflict with the Moor.
115
“Now brightly burning Sol had housed his wain
in Thetis’ bower, and his slanting ray
sank westward, bearing Hesper in his train,
to close that rare and most memorious day:
When of the Moors those valiant Sovrans twain
the dense and dreadful squadrons swept away,
with such fell slaughter as ne’er told of Man
the page of Story since the world began.
116
“Ne’er could strong Marius e’en the quarter show,
of lives here victim’d by victorious Fate;
when to the river, red with gory glow,
he sent his thirsty Braves their drouth to sate:
Ne yet the Carthaginian, asp’erous foe
to Roman pow’er and cradled in her hate,
when slain so many Knights of noble Rome,
of their gold rings he sent three bushels home.
117
“And if sole thou so many souls to flit
couldst force, and seek Cocytus’ reign of night,
when thou the Holy City didst acquit
of the base Júdean, firm in olden rite;
’twas that Jehovah’s vengeance thus saw fit,
O noble Titus! not thine arm of might;
for thus inspirèd men had prophesied,
and thus by Jesu’s lips ’twas certified.
118
“Accomplishèd his act of arms victorious,
home to his Lusian realm Afonso sped,
to gain from Peacetide triumphs great and glorious,
as those he gained in wars and battles dread;80
when the sad chance, on History’s page memorious,
which can unsepulchre the sheeted dead,
befell that ill-starr’d miserable Dame
who, foully slain, a thronèd Queen became.
119
“Thou, only thou, pure Love, whose cruel might
obligeth human hearts to weal and woe,
thou, only thou, didst wreak such foul despight,
as though she were some foul perfidious foe.
Thy burning thirst, fierce Love, they say aright,
may not be quencht by saddest tears that flow;
nay, more, thy sprite of harsh tyrannick mood
would see thine altars bathed with human blood.
120
“He placed thee, fair Ignèz! in soft retreat,
culling the first-fruits of thy sweet young years,
in that delicious Dream, that dear Deceit,
whose long endurance Fortune hates and fears:
Hard by Mondego’s yearned-for meads thy seat,
where linger, flowing still, those lovely tears,
until each hill-born tree and shrub confest
the name of Him deep writ within thy breast.81
121
“There, in thy Prince awoke responsive-wise
dear thoughts of thee which soul-deep ever lay;
which brought thy beauteous form before his eyes,
whene’er those eyne of thine were far away:
Night fled in falsest, sweetest fantasies,
in fleeting, flying reveries sped the Day;
and all, in fine, he saw or cared to see
were memories of his love, his joys, his thee.
122
“Of many a dainty dame and damosel
the coveted nuptial couches he rejecteth;
for nought can e’er, pure Love! thy care dispel,
when one enchanting shape thy heart subjecteth.
These whims of passion to despair compel
the Sire, whose old man’s wisdom aye respecteth,
his subjects murmuring at his son’s delay
to bless the nation with a bridal day.
123
“To wrench Ignèz from life he doth design,
better his captured son from her to wrench;
deeming that only blood of death indign
the living lowe of such true Love can quench.
What Fury willed it that the steel so fine,
which from the mighty weight would never flinch
of the dread Moorman, should be drawn in hate
to work that hapless delicate Ladye’s fate?
124
“The horr’ible Hangmen hurried her before
the King, now moved to spare her innocence;
but still her cruel murther urged the more,
the People swayed by fierce and false pretence.
She with her pleadings pitiful and sore,
that told her sorrows and her care immense
for her Prince-spouse and babes, whom more to leave
than her own death the mother’s heart did grieve:
125
“And heav’enwards to the clear and chryst’alline skies,
raising her eyne with piteous tears bestainèd;
her eyne, because her hands with cruel ties
one of the wicked Ministers82 constrainèd:
And gazing on her babes in wistful guise,
whose pretty forms
