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The King by proclamation had announced the knightly play,
For the cheerful trumpets sang a truce upon that very day;
And Zaide, high Belchite's King, had sworn that war should cease,
And with Tarfe of Valentia had ratified the peace.
But others spread the news, that flew like fire from tongue to tongue,
That the King was doting-mad with love, for then the King was young;
And had given to Celindaja the ordering of the day.
And there were knights beside the King she loved to see at play.
And now the lists are opened and, lo! a dazzling band,
The Saracens, on sorrel steeds leap forth upon the sand;
Their trailing cloaks are flashing like the golden orange rind,
The hoods of green from their shoulders hang and flutter in the wind.
They carry targets blazoned bright with scimitars arow,
But each deadly blade is deftly made into a Cupid's bow.
A shining legend can be seen in letters ranged above;
And "Fire and Blood" the motto runs. It speaks of war and love.
In double file a company of warriors succeed;
The bold Aliatares come mounted on Arab steeds.


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