Page:Modern poets and poetry of Spain.djvu/289

Rh Followed by two esquires alone, The Master scarce in haste Upon the royal vestibule His foot confiding placed, Where various men-at-arms were seen, In double iron barrM, Pacing along as sentinels The entrance stairs to guard, When over from the balcony, Like fiendish shape of ill, The King looks out, and "Mace-bearers," He shouts, "the Master kill." Quick as the lightning in a storm Comes ere the thunders call, Six well-appointed maces down On Don Fadrique fall. He raised his hand to grasp his sword, But in his tabard's gird The hilt was bound, impossible To draw it at the word. He fell, a sea of blood around Ran from the shatterM brain, Raising a cry which reached to heaven, And doubtless not in vain. Of deed so horrible the news At once around was spread,