And brandished his dagger still red;
While fiercely stout Pablo leaned forward,
And fought o’er his trusty mule’s head. 56
They fought till the black wall below them
Shone red through the misty blast.
Stout Pablo then struck, leaning farther,
The broad breast of Bernal at last;
And, frenzied with pain, the swart herdsman
Closed round him with terrible clasp,
And jerked him, despite of his struggles,