His head half-severed fell. The curse of God Fall on the Caliph and the Faith and thee! Stamping for anguish, Cottila pursued; African dogs, thus is it ye requite Our services?... But dearly shall ye pay For this day’s work!... O Fellow-soldiers, here, Stretching his hands toward the host, he cried, Behold your noble leader basely slain! He who for twenty years hath led us forth To war, and brought us home with victory, Here he lies foully murdered, ... by the Moors, ... Those whom he trusted, whom he served so well! Our turn is next! but neither will we wait Idly, nor tamely fall! Amid the grief, Tumult, and rage, of those who gather’d round, When Julian could be heard, I have yet life, He said, for vengeance. Virimar, speed thou To yonder Mountaineers, and tell their Chiefs That Julian’s veteran army joins this day Pelayo’s standard! The command devolves On Gunderick. Fellow-soldiers, who so well Redress’d the wrongs of your old General, Ye will not let his death go unrevenged!... Tears then were seen on many an iron cheek, And groans were heard from many a resolute heart, And vows with imprecations mix’d went forth, And curses check’d by sobs. Bear me apart, Said Julian, with a faint and painful voice, And let me see my daughter ere I die. Scarce had he spoken when the pitying throng Divide before her. Eagerly she came; A deep and fearful lustre in her eye, A look of settled woe, ... pale, deadly pale, Yet to no lamentations giving way, Nor tears nor groans; ... within her breaking heart She bore the grief, and kneeling solemnly Beside him, raised her aweful hands to heaven, And cried, Lord God! be with him in this hour Two things have I to think of, O my child, Vengeance and thee; said Julian. For the first I have provided: what remains of life As best may comfort thee may so be best Employ’d; let me be borne within the church, And thou, with that good man who follows thee, Attend me there. Thus when Florinda heard Her father speak, a gleam of heavenly joy Shone through the anguish of her countenance. O gracious God, she cried, my prayers are heard; Now let me die!... They raised him from the earth; He, knitting as they lifted him his brow, Drew in through open lips and teeth firm-closed His painful breath, and on the lance laid hand, Lest its long shaft should shake the mortal wound. Gently his men with slow and steady step Their suffering burthen bore, and in the Church Before the altar laid him down, his head Upon Florinda’s knees.... Now, friends, said he, Farewell. I ever hoped to meet my death Among ye, like a soldier, ... but not thus! Go join the Asturians; and in after years, When of your old commander ye shall talk, How well he loved his followers, what he was In battle, and how basely he was slain, Let not the tale its fit completion lack,