He answered; and a cavalcade
Of Christians, with the Moorish guards,
Their journey to Granada made.

The guise of war at once was dropped;
The armory closed its iron door;
And all put on the damask robes
That at high festival they wore.

The Moorish youths and maidens crowd,
With joyful face, the city square;
These mount their steeds, those sit and braid
Bright favors for their knights to wear.

Those stern antagonists in war,
Like friends, within the town are met;
And peacefully they grasp the hand,
And for one day the past forget.

And gallant Almarada comes
(Not Tarfe's self more brave, I ween),
Lord of a lovely Moorish dame,
Who rules her lover like a queen.

A hundred thousand favors she
In public or in private gives,
To show her lover that her life
Is Almarada's while she lives!

And once upon a cloudy night,