And Fortune's cruel fickleness he furiously reviled,
For his heart sent madness to his brain and all his words were wild.
"O goddess who controllest on earth our human fate,
How is it I offend thee, that my life is desolate?
Ah! many were the triumphs that from Zara's hands I bore,
When in the joust or in the dance she smiled on me of yore.
And now, while equal fortune incessantly I chase,
Naught can I gather from thy hand but disaster and disgrace.
Since King Fernando brought his host fair Baza to blockade,
My lot has been a wretched lot of anguish unalloyed.
Yet was Fernando kind to me with all his kingly art,
He won my body to his arms, he could not win my heart."
While thus he spoke the mantle that he wore he cast away;
'Twas green, 'twas striped with red and white, 'twas lined with dismal
gray.
"Best suits my fate, best suits the hue, in this misfortune's day;
Not green, not white nor purple, but the palmer's garb of gray.
I ask no plumes for helm or cap of nature's living green,
For hope has vanished from my life of that which might have been!
And from my target will I blot the blazon that is vain--
The lynx whose eyes are fixed upon the prey that it would gain.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100