The valiant bull, with lowered head advancing to the strife,
Felt from skilled hand the tempered brand pierce to his very life.
Deep wounded to the gory ground, where he had stoutly stood,
The horned warrior sank at last, bathed in his own heart's blood.
Still, on his ruddy couch he lay, his courage quenched at last
At this exploit the plaudits of the assembly filled the blast;
They hailed the knight whose bravery and skill had done the deed,
And slain the hero of the ring, and saved his goodly steed,
And done such pleasure to the King, and to Celinda fair,
To the Queen of Spain and all her train who sat assembled there.