ow. They
fought desperately upon the borders of the river, alternately pressing
each other into the stream and fighting their way again up the bank.
Ali Atar was repeatedly wounded, and Don Alonso, having pity on his age,
would have spared his life: he called upon him to surrender. "Never,"
cried Ali Atar, "to a Christian dog!" The words were scarce out of his
mouth when the sword of Don Alonso clove his turbaned head and sank deep
into the brain. He fell dead without a groan; his body rolled into the
Xenil, nor was it ever found or recognized.* Thus fell Ali Atar, who had
long been the terror of Andalusia. As he had hated and warred upon the
Christians all his life, so he died in the very act of bitter hostility.

* Cura de los Palacios.

The fall of Ali Atar put an end to the transient stand of the cavalry.
Horse and foot mingled together in the desperate struggle across the
Xenil, and many were trampled down and perished beneath the waves. Don
Alonso and his band continued to harass them until they crossed the
frontier, and every blow struck home to the Moors seemed to lighten the
load of humiliation and sorrow which had weighed heavy on their hearts.

In this disastrous rout the Moors lost upward of five thousand killed
and made prisoners, many of whom were of the most noble lineages
of Granada; numbers fled to rocks and mountains, where they were
subsequently taken.

Boabdil remained a prisoner in the state tower of the citadel of Lucena
under the vigilance of Alonso de Rueda, esquire of the alcayde of the
Donceles; his quality was still unknown until the 24th of April, three
days after the battle. On that day some prisoners, natives of Granada,
just brought in, caught a sight of the unfortunate Boabdil despoiled of
his royal robes. Throwing themselves at his feet, they broke forth in
loud lamentations, apostrophizing him as their lord and king.

Great was the astonishment and triumph of the count de Cabra and
Don Diego Fernandez de Cordova on learning the rank of the supposed
cavalier. They both ascended to the castle to see that he was lodged
in a style befitting his quality. When the good count beheld in the
dejected captive before him the monarch who had so recently appeared in
royal splendor surrounded by an army, his generous heart was touched by
sympathy. He said everything to comfort him that became a courteous and
Christian knight, observing that the same mutability of things which
had sudden