Fernando, King of Arragon, before Granada lies,
With dukes and barons many a one, and champions of emprise;
With all the captains of Castile that serve his lady’s crown,
He drives Boabdil from his gates, and plucks the crescent down.
So far good. Now for the conclusion:
The Moorish maidens, while she spoke, around her silence kept,
But her master dragged the dame away—then loud and long they wept:
They wash’d the blood, with many a tear, from dint of dart and arrow,
And buried him near the waters clear of the bank of Alpuxarra.
It will not serve to point out that this is just what one might expect in a ballad, for it bears not the shadow of resemblance to the original.