The watch-towers' blazing beacons scarred With blood-red wounds the face of night: She heard men gallop battleward; She saw their armor gleam with light. "My God, deliver me and mine! My child! my love!"--all night she prayed: She watched the battle beacons shine; She watched the battle beacons fade.... They brought him on a bier of spears.-- For him, the death-won spurs and name; For her, the grief of lonely years, And donjon walls to hide her shame. THE MINSTREL AND THE PRINCESS I He had no hope to win her hand, A harper in a loveless land, And yet he sang of love; And marked the blue vein of her throat Swell with mute rage at every note: And when he ceased she spake him then,-- "Such whining slaves are less than men!" And anger in her dark eyes wrote Contempt thereof. II He had no hope to win her hand, A harper in a hostile land, And yet he sang of peace; And marked how mock'ry curled her lip With scorn as, 'neath each finger-tip, The chords breathed pastoral content: Till haughtiness, that beauty lent To beauty, sneered, "Would'st feel the whip?-- O fool, surcease!" III He had no hope to win her hand, A harper in a tyrant's land, And so he sang of war-- "Oh, fling thy harp away!" she said. "O war, thy singers are not dead!-- Seat thee beside me; now I see Thou art for battle, and must be Brave as thy song.--Well hast thou pled. My warrior!" THE ALCALDE'S DAUGHTER The times they had kissed and parted That night were over a score; Each time that the cavalier started, Each time she would swear him o'er:-- "Thou art going to Barcelona!-- To make Naxera thy bride! Seduce the Lady Iona!-- And thy lips have lied! have lied! "I love thee! I love thee, thou knowest! And thou shalt not give away The love to my life thou owest; And my heart commands thee stay! "I say thou hast lied and liest!-- For--where is there war in the State?-- Thou goest, by Heaven the highest! To choose thee a fairer mate. "Wilt thou go to Barcelona When thy queen in Toledo is?-- To wait on the haughty Iona, When thou hast these lips to kiss?" And they stood in the balcony over The old Toledo square; And, weeping, she took for her lover A red rose out of her hair. And they kissed farewell; and, higher, The moon made amber the air;-- And she drew, for the traitor and liar, A stiletto out of her hair.... When the night-watch lounged through the quiet With the stir of halberds and swords, Not a bravo was there to defy it, Not a gallant to brave with words.