Moorish Literature Part 18

Then, mark, love, in my portrait mark, The wide eyes' mute appeal, For this enchanted painting Can speak and breathe and feel.

Think how those eyes shed many a tear, When for thy face they yearn; And let those tears thy patience win To tarry my return."

At this Galvano came to say That ship and favoring gale Awaited him, and all his host Were eager to set sail.

The Moor went forth to victory, He was not pleasure's slave; His gallant heart was ever prompt To keep the pledge he gave.

CELINDA'S COURTESY

Azarco on his balcony With humble Cegri stood.

He talked, and Cegri listened In a sad and listless mood; For of his own exploits he read, Writ in an open scroll, But envious Cegri heard the tale With rage and bitter dole.

And thro' Elvira's gate, where spreads A prospect wide and free, He marked how Phoebus shot his rays Upon the Spanish sea; And bending to the land his eye To notice how the scene Of summer had its color changed To black from radiant green, He saw that, thro' the gate there pa.s.sed A light that was not day's, Whose splendor, like a dazzling cloud, Eclipsed the solar rays.

That presence changed the tint of earth, Drew off the dusky veil, And turned to living verdure The leaf.a.ge of the dale.

"Till now," Azarco said, "the scene Has filled my heart with pain; 'Tis freshened by Celinda's face, Or pa.s.sion turns my brain.

Ah, well may men her beauty praise, For its transcendent might Elates the human spirit, And fills it with delight."

And as he saw her coming in, The Moor his bonnet doffed, And bowed to do her honor, And spoke in accents soft.

Celinda court'sied to the ground, Such favor was not slight, Her kindly greeting gratified The fond hopes of the knight.

And glad and gloomy, each in turn, For such a quick success, He checked a thousand words of love, That might his joy express.

And following her with eager eyes-- "I owe thee much," said he, "Who dost reward with such a boon My merest courtesy.

That favor, tho' unmerited, Sweet lady, shall remain Counted among those choicest gifts Our reckoning cannot gain.

Its memory shall suffice to chase The grinding pangs of care; And softening turn the ills of life To glory's guerdon rare."

On this Celinda took her leave, And vanished from his view, And, thinking proudly of her smile, Azarco straight withdrew.

GAZUL'S DESPONDENCY

Scarce half a league from Gelva the knight dismounted stood, Leaning upon his upright spear, and bitter was his mood.

He thought upon Celinda's curse, and Zaida's fickle mind, "Ah, Fortune, thou to me," he cried, "hast ever proved unkind."

And from his valiant bosom burst a storm of angry sighs, And acts and words of anguish before his memory rise.

"Celinda's loss I count as naught, nor fear her wicked will; I were a fool, thus cursed by her, to love the lady still."

In rage from out the sod he drew his spear-head, as he spoke, And in three pieces shivered it against a knotted oak.

He tore away the housings that 'neath his saddle hang, He rent his lady's favor as with a lion's fang-- The silken ribbon, bright with gold, which in his crest he bore, By loved Celinda knotted there, now loved by him no more.

He drew, as rage to madness turned, her portrait from his breast; He spat on it, and to that face derisive jeers addressed.

"Why should I dress in robes of joy, whose heart is wounded sore, By curses, that requite so ill the duteous love I bore?

Stripped as I am of every hope, 'tis better I go bare, For the black mantle of my soul is but tormenting care; I vengeance take on yonder oak, pierced by my lance's steel-- I dote, for, ah! the trees I wound, cannot, like women, feel."

He took the bridle off his steed, "Roam as thou wilt," said he.

"As I gave Zaida her release, I give release to thee."

The swift horse galloped out of sight; in melancholy mood, The knight, unhorsed and helmetless, his lonely path pursued.

GAZUL IN LOVE

Not greater share did Mars acquire of trophies and renown, Than great Gazul took with him from Gelva's castled town; And when he to Sanlucar came his lady welcomed him, His cup of happiness at last was beaded to the brim.

Alone the joyful lovers stood within a garden glade; Amid the flowers, those happy hours fled to the evening shade.

With fingers deft Celinda wove a wreath, in which were set The rose's rudy petals and the scented mignonette.

She plaited him a baldric, with violets circled round, For violets are for lovers, and with this his waist she bound.

And then the flowery garland she tied upon his head, "Thy face is delicate and fair as Ganymede's," she said; "And if great Jove beheld thee now, he'd send his eagle down, To take thee to the palace halls that high Olympus crown."

The brave Gazul his lady took and kissed her with a smile; "She could not be so fair," said he, "the girl, who by her guile Brought ruin on the Trojan realm, and set its towers afire, As thou art, lady of my heart and queen of my desire."

"If I, indeed, seem fair to thee, then let the bridal rite Me and the husband of my heart for evermore unite."

"Ah, mine will be the gain," he said, and kissed her with delight.

CELINDA'S INCONSTANCY

Gazul, like some brave bull that stands at bay to meet his fate, Has fled from fair Celinda's frown and reached Sanlucar's gate.

The Moor bestrides a sorrel mare, her housings are of gray, The desperate Moor is clad in weeds that shall his grief display.

The white and green that once he wore to sable folds give room, Love's purple tints are now replaced by those of grief and gloom.

His Moorish cloak is white and blue, the blue was strewn with stars, But now a covering like a cloud the starry radiance mars.

And from his head with stripes of black his silken streamers flow, His bonnet blue he dyes anew in tints of grief and woe.

Alone are seen the tints of green upon his sword-belt spread, For by that blade the blood of foes in vengeance shall be shed.

The color of the mantle which on his arm he bore Is like the dark arena's dust when it is drenched in gore.

Black as the buskins that he wears, and black his stirrup's steel, And red with rust of many a year the rowels at his heel.

He bears not lance or headed spear, for that which once he bore Was shivered into splinters beside Celinda's door.

He bears a rounded target, whose quarterings display The full moon darting through the clouds her ineffectual ray.

For though her orb be full the clouds eclipse her silver light; The motto: "Fair but cruel, black-hearted though so bright."

And as Celinda stripped the wings which on adventure brave Sustained his flight--no more shall plume above his helmet wave.

'Twas noon one Wednesday when Gazul to Gelva's portal came, And straight he sought the market-place to join the jousting game; The ruler of the city looked at him with surprise, And never lady knew the knight, so dark was his disguise.

As they had been as soft as wax, he pierced the targets through With javelins of the hollow cane that in the vega grew; Not one could stand before the Moor; the tilters turned and fled, For by his exploits was revealed the warrior's name of dread.

The lists were in confusion, but calm was on his brow, As, lifting up his eyes to heaven, he breathed a desperate vow; "Would G.o.d the malediction of Celinda had come true!

And the spears of my a.s.sailant had pierced my bosom through!

And that the dames who pitied me had cursed me where I stand!

And bravely falling I became a hero of the land!

That never succor came to me, for that were rapture high To her the angry lioness who prays that I may die!"

He spoke, he spurred his courser fleet, and started for the plain, And swore within Celinda's sight he'd ne'er return again.

THE BULL-FIGHT

The zambra was but ended, and now Granada's King Abdeli called his court to sit on Vivarrambla's ring; Of n.o.ble line the bride and groom whose nuptials bade prepare, The struggle between valiant knights and bulls within the square.

And, when on the arena the mighty bull was freed, Straight to the deadly conflict one warrior spurred his steed; His mantle was of emerald of texture damascene, And hope was in his folded hood as in his mantle green; Six squires went with him to the ring beside their lord to stand; Their livery was brilliant green, so did their lord command.

Hope was the augury of his love; hope's livery he wore; Yet at his side each squire of his a trenchant rapier bore.

Each rapier true was black in hue and sheathed in silver ore; At once the people knew the knight from his audacious mien-- Gazul the brave was recognized as soon as he was seen!

With graceful dignity he took his station on the sand, And like a second Mars he seized his rapier in his hand; With courage strong he eyed the bull, who pawed the ground till high The dust of the arena was mingled with the sky.

All at the sight were terrified, and now with deadly speed, His horns as keen as points of steel, he rushes at the steed.

The brave Gazul was on the watch, to ward the threatened blow, And save his steed, and with one stroke to lay the a.s.sailant low.

The valiant bull, with lowered head advancing to the strife, Felt from skilled hand the tempered brand pierce to his very life.

Deep wounded to the gory ground, where he had stoutly stood, The horned warrior sank at last, bathed in his own heart's blood.

Still, on his ruddy couch he lay, his courage quenched at last.

At this exploit the plaudits of the a.s.sembly filled the blast; They hailed the knight whose bravery and skill had done the deed, And slain the hero of the ring, and saved his goodly steed, And done such pleasure to the King, and to Celinda fair, To the Queen of Spain and all her train who sat a.s.sembled there.

LOVERS RECONCILED

Soon as in rage Celinda had closed her lattice fast And scorned the Moor ungrateful for his service in the past, Her pa.s.sion with reflection turns and in repentance ends; She longs to see the Moor again and make to him amends; For in the dance of woman's love through every mood they range And those whose hearts are truest are given most to change.

And when she saw the gallant knight before the people all Shiver his lance to splinters against her palace wall, And when she saw his cloak of green was changed to mourning gray, She straightway took her mantle with silver b.u.t.tons gay, She took her hood of purple pleached with the gold brocade, Whose fringes and whose borders were all in pearls arrayed, She brought a cap with sapphires and emeralds bespread; The green was badge of hope, the blue of jealous rancor dead.