"What news, O King Affonso,

Of the Martyrs five what news? Doth the bloody Miramamolin

Their burial still refuse?"

"That on a dunghill they should rot, The bloody Moor decreed;

That their dishonour'd bodies should

The dogs and vultures feed:

"But the thunder of God roll'd over them, And the lightning of God flash'd round; Nor thing impure, nor man impure,

Could approach the holy ground.

"A thousand miracles appall'd

The cruel Pagan's mind.

Our brother Pedro brings them here,
In Coimbra to be shrined."

Every altar in Coimbra

Is drest for the festival day; All the people in Coimbra

Are dight in their richest array.

Every bell in Coimbra

Doth merrily, merrily ring ;

The clergy and the knights await,

To go forth with the Queen and the King.

"Come forth, come forth, Queen Orraca! We make the procession stay."

"I beseech thee, King Affonso,

Go you alone to-day.

“I have pain in my head this morning,

I am ill at heart also:

Go without me, King Affonso,

"The relics of the Martyrs five

All maladies can cure;

They will requite the charity

You shew'd them once, be sure :

"Come forth then, Queen Orraca! You make the procession stay:

It were a scandal and a sin

To abide at home to-day.”

Upon her palfrey she is set,

And forward then they go;

And over the long bridge they pass, And up the long hill wind slow.

"Prick forward, King Affonso, And do not wait for me;

To meet them close by Coimbra,

It were discourtesy.

"A little while I needs must wait,

Till this sore pain be gone:...

I will proceed the best I can,

But do you and your knights prick on."

The King and his knights prick'd up the hill
Faster than before;

The King and his knights have topt the hill,
And now they are seen no more.

As the King and his knights went down the hill A wild boar crost the way;

"Follow him! follow him!" cried the King; "We have time by the Queen's delay!"

A-hunting of the boar astray

Is King Affonso gone :

Slowly, slowly, but straight the while,

And winding now the train appears

Between the olive-trees:

Queen Orraca alighted then,

And fell upon her knees.

The friars of Alanquer came first,
And next the relics past; ...

Queen Orraca look'd to see

The King and his knights come last.

She heard the horses tramp behind;
At that she turn'd her face:

King Affonso and his knights came up
All panting from the chase.

"Have pity upon my poor soul, Holy Martyrs five!” cried she :