 | Constance De Castile |  |
VI.
While every eye on Edward turn'd,And his bright cheek with glory burn'd,
And his brave hand, by justice sway'd,
Had half unsheath'd his shining blade:
Pedro by ardent hope inflam'd
Rose, and, o'er Constance, thus exclaim'd,
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“For love, for glory couch the spear.
“Champion! arise—unsheath the sword:
“Free this fair Maid from Afric's lord:
“The veil that hides her charms remove,
“By valour win the Virgin's love:
“And, conqu'ring, on the field of fame
“Thy bride, Castillia's heiress, claim.”
| Constance De Castile | |