But, hark! the din of slaughter; hark! the scream Of virgin innocence and matron shame. Of Spain’s defenders see the bayonets gleam, And lust and plunder the defender’s aim! Yet haply share not all nor most the blame. A band of ruffians, vilest scum of War, By deeds inglorious, crimes without a name, Sully the brightest rays of Victory’s star, And send their crimes to blaze with Valour’s fame afar. XVIII. Frantic with fear for _her_--his only fear, Rushed Carlos quick to Isidora’s side; And when the plunderers villain-eyed drew near, Barred all Salustian’s house, the horde defied, And with good rifle to their threats replied. Long was the contest, oft their firelocks flashed, But Carlos gaily cheered his destined bride; And, foiled, the band for rapine further dashed, But swearing dire revenge, their teeth like tigers gnashed. XIX. “Away, away, my life, my love, my joy! “_Querida_, thou must find secure retreat. “My peace ’twill, by my father’s dust, destroy, “If e’er thy charms these rabid dogs should meet. “_Por Díos_, with steel I will the monsters greet!” With many a gentle word and heavenly smile Replied his Isidora, angel-sweet. Now fell the night, and blazed full many a pile, And Charles for his adored a shelter sought the while. XX. To Santiago’s shrine Don Carlos bore Salustian and his daughters pale with dread. A mighty crowd hath filled with life the floor, And loveliest of them all the maid he led. Ah, lily cheeks and lips that Beauty fled At peril’s aspect, colourless were there, And vows were made at many an altar red With blood from wounded victims of despair, And through the Temple rose a wailing voice of prayer. XXI. Sudden was heard the appalling cry of--“Fire!” One moment mortal terror hushed each heart; The next, outburst a shriek of anguish dire, For flashed the Demon red o’er every part. The crackling flames across each window dart, And cast a lurid glare o’er faces pale With dread, or screaming till their eyeballs start Wild, frantic, terrible. The bravest quail, For, ah, so dense the crowd no means of ’scape avail. XXII. “Fire” “Fire!”--the cry of agony again More shrill ascended--“_ay!_” and “_u!_” the scream; And women clapt their hands, and hoarsely men Implored, and piercing shrieks of children stream Far o’er the tumult to the topmost beam Of that tall Gothic pile. As in some vast Disastrous shipwreck, howling winds do seem With roaring waves to struggle fierce and fast, And cries of drowning men are mingled with the blast. XXIII.