se-born Moor, who took the tresses curled,
And tied them in thy turban, before the laughing world.
I ask not that thou wilt return nor yet the relic keep,
But I tell thee, while thou wearest it, my shame is dire and deep:
They say that thou hast challenged him, and swearest he shall rue
For all the truths he spake of thee--would God they were not true!
Who but can laugh to hear thee blame the whispers that reveal
Thy secret, though thy secret thyself couldst not conceal.
No words of thine can clear thy guilt nor pardon win from me,
For the last time my words, my glance, have been addressed to thee."
Thus to the lofty warrior of Abencerraje's race
The lady spoke in anger, and turned away her face:
"'Tis right," she said, "the Moor whose tongue has proved to me unkind
Should in the sentence of my tongue fit retribution find."

ZAIDA'S INCONSTANCY

O fairest Zaida, thou whose face brings rapture to mine eyes!
O fairest Zaida, in whose smile my soul's existence lies!
Fairest of Moorish maidens, yet in revengeful mood,
Above all Moorish maidens, stained by black ingratitude.
'Tis of thy golden locks that love has many a noose entwined,
And souls of free men at thy sight full oft are stricken blind;
Yet tell me, proud one, tell me, what pleasure canst thou gain
From showing to the world a heart so fickle and so vain?
And, since my adoration thou canst not fail to know,
How is it that thy tender heart can treat thy lover so?
And art thou not content my fondest hopes to take away,
But thou must all my hope, my life, destroy, in utter ruin lay?
My faithful love, sweet enemy! how ill dost thou requite!
And givest in exchange for it but coldness and despite;
Thy promises, thy pledge of love, thou to the gale wouldst fling;
Enough that they were thine, false girl, that they should all take wing.
Remember how upon that day thou gavest many a sign
Of love and lavished'st the kiss which told me thou wert mine.
Remember, lovely Zaida, though memory bring thee pain,
Thy bliss when 'neath thy window I sang my amorous strain.
By day, before the window, I saw my darling move,
At night, upon the balcony, I told thee of my love.
If I were late or absence detained me from thy sight,
Then jealous rage distraught thy heart, thine eyes with tears were
bright.
But now that thou hast turned from me, I come thy face to greet,
And thou biddest me