With lingering step reluctant from the chase
They turn’d, ... their veins full-swoln, their sinews strung
For battle still, their hearts unsatisfied;
Their swords were dropping still with Moorish blood,
And where they wiped their reeking brows, the stain
Of Moorish gore was left. But when they came
Where Pedro, with Alphonso at his side,
Stood to behold their coming, then they press’d
All emulous, with gratulation round,
Extolling for his deeds that day display’d