THE BRAGGART REBUKED

"If thou art brave in battle's hour

As thou art bold in pleasure's rout;

If thou canst make the lances fly

As thou canst fling thy words about;

"If thou canst in the vega fight

As thou the ladies' eyes canst praise;

And show on horseback half the skill

That marks thee in the dance's maze;

"Meet with the briskness of the joust

The challenge of the deadly lance,

And in the play of scimitars

Be sprightly as in festive dance;

"If thou art ready in the field

As thou art nimble on the square;

And canst the front of battle face

As though thou flirtest with the fair;

"If thou dost don thy shining mail

As lightly as thy festive suit,

And listenest to the trumpet call

As though it were thy lady's lute;

"And if, as in the gamesome hour

Thou flingest round the rattling reed

Against the foeman's moated camp,

Thou spurrest on thy thundering steed;

"If, when the foe is face to face,

Thou boastest as thou oft hast done

When far away his ranks were ranged,

And the fierce fight had not begun;--

"Go, Zaide, to the Alhambra go,

And there defend thy soldier fame;

For every tongue is wagging there,

And all, derisive, speak thy name.

"And if thou fear to go alone,

Take others with thee to thine aid;

Thy friends are ready at thy beck,

And Zaide need not be afraid!

"It is not in the palace court,

Amid the throng of ladies bright,

That the good soldier, by his tongue,

Proves himself valorous in the fight.

"It is not there his hands can show

What in the battle he can do;

But where the shock of onset tests

The fearless heart, the iron thew.

"Betake thee to the bloody field

And let thy sword thy praises sing;

But silence is most eloquent

Amid the courtiers of the King."

Thus Tarfe wrote, the Moorish knight,

His heart so filled with furious rage

That where his fiery pen had passed

It pierced and rent the flimsy page.

He called his varlet to his side,

"Now seek the Alhambra's hall," said he,

"And privately to Zaide say

That this epistle comes from me;

"And whisper, that none else may hear,

And say that I his coming wait,

Where Genil's crystal torrent laves

The pillars of yon palace gate."

Moorish Literature Comprising Romantic Ballads, Tales of the Berbers, Stories of the Kabyles, Folk-Lore, and National Traditions · 第 21 / 228 题