A LEGEND OF MADRID 



That the bull may crush and gore him, 

 Since the love that once I bore him 

 Has been changed to hatred wild. 



Nina, 

 Save him ! aid him ! oh Madonna ! 



Two are slain if he is slain ; 

 Shield his life, and guard his honour, 



Let me not entreat in vain. 

 Sullenly the brindled savage 



Tears and tosses up the sand ; 

 Horns that rend and hoofs that ravage, 



How shall man your shock withstand ? 

 On the shaggy neck and head lie 

 Frothy flakes, the eyeballs redly 

 Flash, the horns so sharp and deadly 



Lower, short, and strong, and straight ; 

 Fast, and furious, and fearless. 

 Now he charges ; — virgin peerless, 

 Lifting lids, all dry and tearless, 



At thy throne I supplicate. 



Francesca 

 Cool and calm, the perjured varlet 

 Stands on strongly planted heel, 



55 



