By this accursed bridal
Life's treasure he had lost;
The Moor had gained the treasure,
And now must pay the cost.
The second hour of night had rung
When, on his gallant steed,
He passed thro' Jerez' gate resolved
Upon a desperate deed.
And lo! to Zaida's dwelling
With peaceful mien he came,
Pondering his bloody vengeance
Upon that house of shame.
For he will pass the portal,
And strike the bridegroom low;
But first must cross the wide, wide court,
Ere he can reach his foe.
And he must pass the crowd of men,
Who in the courtyard stand,
Lighting the palace of the Moor,
With torches in their hand.
And Zaida in the midst comes forth,
Her lover at her side;
He has come, amid his groomsmen,
To take her for his bride.
And bold Gazul feels his heart bound
With fury at the sight;
A lion's rage is in his soul,
His brow is black as night.
But now he checks his anger,
And gently on his steed
Draws near, with smile of greeting,
That none may balk the deed.
And when he reached the bridal,
Where all had taken their stand,
Upon his mighty sword-hilt
He sudden laid his hand;
And in a voice that all could hear
"Base craven Moor," said he,
"The sweet, the lovely Zaida
Shall ne'er be bride to thee.
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