That aims at him so manfully;
Oh, shield the luckless wight!
Now flash their falchions in mid air,
May “God defend the right!”
Oh, who had seen that man would swear
His was no mortal might.
But, ah! he’s down—it cannot be:
His mighty soul for aye has sped!
Draw near—oh, horrid sight to see
De Lopez number’d with the dead!