One sickens, one rejoys at clashing blades.
Ah, Blanca, Blanca, learn that joy to smother,
For steel doth smite e’en now who loves thee like a mother!
XXXVI.
Still darkness palled the earth, when round the home
Of Blanca’s father, near Zumaya’s green,
The French hussars who fled Guerníca from,
Arrayed in treacherous descent were seen;
For Jules thus thought to wreak his vengeful spleen
At once upon the maiden and her sire.