Before she answered with one voice the air around was riven--
"Now let your shots, your cross-bows, sound to the vault of heaven!
Let kettle-drums and trumpets and clarions blend their strain;
Zulema, Tunis' King, now lands upon the coast of Spain,
And with him ride, in arms allied, Marbello and his train."
"Ah, traitor," she replied to him, "four months wert thou away,
And I in vain expected some tidings day by day."
And humbly did the Moor reply, "Do I deserve the blame?
Who drops the lance to take the pen, he does a deed of shame."
They sank into each other's arms just as the word was given: