We have already discussed the question of the 'Moorishness' (or otherwise) of these ballads. Let us now discuss them as ballads and as nothing more. The first, "The Bull-fight of Ganzul," is not only a famous piece, but in translating it Lockhart has risen to the occasion. It describes the dexterity of Ganzul, a noble Moor, in the bull-ring, and is certainly not without its quota of Moresque colour. King Almanzor of Granada, he hath bid the trumpet sound, He hath summoned all the Moorish lords, from the hills and plains around, From Vega and Sierra, from Betis and Xenil, They have come with helm and cuirass of gold and twisted steel. .............................................................. Eight Moorish lords of valour tried, with stalwart arm and true The onset of the beasts abide, as they come rushing through. The deeds they've done, the spoils they've won, fill all with hope and trust-- Yet ere high in heaven appears the sun they all have bit the dust. Then sounds the trumpet clearly, then clangs the loud tambour; Make room, make room for Ganzul, throw wide, throw wide the door-- Blow, blow the trumpet clearer still, more loudly strike the drum, The Alcaydé of Agalva to fight the bull has come. He defeats the bulls sent against him with the exception of one Harpado, a furious yet sagacious beast. The quatrain which describes him is well forged: Dark is his hide on either side, but the blood within doth boil, And the dim hide glows as if on fire, as he paws to the turmoil. His eyes are jet and they are set in crystal rings of snow; But now they stare with one red glare of brass upon the foe. But it is not surpassingly like the original: Vayo en color encendido, Y los ojos como brasa, Arrugada frente y cuello, La frente vellosa y ancha. But proud as is Harpado, he must give way to the knightly Moor, regarding whom many other tales are told, especially with reference to his love affairs with a fair lady of his own race. The Zegris' Bride "The Zegris' Bride" tells in ballad form of the fierce feud between the two Moorish parties in Granada, the Zegris and the Abencerrages, the Montagues and Capulets of the last of the Moorish strongholds, when factious strife certainly accelerated the fall of their city. The ballad is well turned, and attractive in rhythm: Of all the blood of Zegri, the chief is Lisaro, To wield rejon like him is none, or javelin to throw; From the place of his dominion, he ere the dawn doth go, From Alcala de Henares, he rides in weeds of woe.