mself upon his gallant steed carries the circling shield,
And a new device is blazoned upon its ample field.
The phoenix there is figured, on flaming nest it dies,
And from its dust and ashes again it seems to rise.
And on the margin of the shield this motto is expressed:
"Tis hard to hide the flames of love once kindled in the breast."
And now the ladies take their seats; each jouster mounts his steed;
From footmen and from horsemen flies fast the loaded reed.
And there appears fair Zaida, whom in a luckless day
The Moor had loved, but since, that love in loathing passed away.
Her treachery had grieved his heart, and she who did the wrong
Mourned with repentant heart amid that gay and happy throng.
And with her was Zafira, to whom her husband brings
More bliss and happiness than reign amid Granada's kings.
And when she looked at brave Gazul his deeds her grief renew;
The more she sees, the more her heart is ravished at the view.
And now she blushes with desire, now grows with envy pale;
Her heart is like the changing beam that quivers in the scale.
Alminda sees the lovely dame with sudden anguish start,
And speaks with hope she may reveal the secret of her heart.
And troubled Zaida makes reply, "A sudden thought of ill
Has flashed across my mind and caused the anguish that I feel."
"'Twere better," said Alminda, "to check thy fancy's flight,
For thought can rob the happiest hours of all their deep delight."
Then said the maid of Xerez, "To me thou showest plain
Thou hast not felt black envy's tooth nor known what is disdain.
To know it, would thy spirit move to pity my despair,
Who writhe and die from agony, in which thou hast no share."
Zafira seized the lady's hand, and silence fell around,
As mixed in loud confusion brushed the jousters to the ground.
In came the Berber tribesmen, in varied cloaks arrayed;
They ranged themselves in companies against the palisade.
The sound of barbarous trumpets rang, the startled horses reared,
And snort and neigh and tramp of hoofs on every side was heard,
Then troop meets troop, and valiant hearts the mimic fight pursue;
They hurl their javelins o'er the sand and pierce the bucklers through.
Long time the battling hosts contend, until that festive day,
The shout, the clash, the applauding cry, in silence die away.
They fain had prayed that time himself would stop Apollo's car.
They hate to see the suns