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Updated: June 16, 2025
Here, as in the last couplet of the Arabic gazul, were placed the personal allusions, and when these were unintelligible to the audience the joglar usually explained the poem before singing it; the explanations, which in some cases remain prefixed to the poem, were known as the razos.
But, in Germany, one had better not, when so young as Mérimée, attempt to produce anything so mature as he has done in his pieces of Clara Gazul. It is true, Schiller was very young when he wrote his Robbers, his Love and Intrigue, his Fiesco; but, to speak the truth, all three pieces are rather the utterances of an extraordinary talent than signs of mature cultivation in the author.
For evil tongues, who thought to win her favor with a lie, Had told her that the bold Gazul ordained that she should die; And so she donned a Moor's attire, and put her own away, And on the stroke of midnight from Xerez took her way. And as she sighed, she sang aloud a melancholy strain; "And who would wish to die," she said, "though death be free from pain?"
Just as Clara Gazul is the female pseudonym of a distinguished male writer, George Sand the masculine pseudonym of a woman of genius, so Camille Maupin was the mask behind which was long hidden a charming young woman, very well-born, a Breton, named Felicite des Touches, the person who was now causing such lively anxiety to the Baronne du Guenic and the excellent rector of Guerande.
Now stoop thee, lady, from thy stand, and the ring of price bestow Upon Gazul of Algava, that hath laid Harpado low. Of all the blood of Zegri, the chief is Lisaro, To wield rejón like him is none, or javelin to throw; From the place of his dominion, he ere the dawn doth go, From Alcala de Henares, he rides in weed of woe.
"Turn, Gazul, turn," the people cry the third comes up behind, Low to the sand his head holds he, his nostrils snuff the wind; The mountaineers that lead the steers, without stand whispering low, "Now thinks this proud alcaydé to stun Harpado so?"
For liberty once forfeited Is hard to be regained, And hardest, when the forfeit falls On heart and hand unstained." Thus spake Gazul, the Moorish lord Of fame and honor bright; Yet, as a craven beggar, Fair Zaida scorned the knight.
It was for this he bade them bring His barb and coat of mail; A sword and dusky scabbard 'Neath his left shoulder trail; In Fez a Christian captive Had forged it, laboring At arms of subtile temper As bondsman of the King. More precious 'twas to bold Gazul Than all his realms could bring.
And Zaida Cegri, desolate, Whom by the cruel cast of fate, Within one hour, the brandished blade From wife had mourning widow made, On Albenzaide's corse was bowed, Shedding hot tears, with weeping loud. Bright as the gold of Araby Shone out her locks unbound; And while, as if to staunch the blood, Her hand lay on the wound, She fixed her glances on Gazul, Still by his foes attacked.
Gazul made bravely his defence, And none could check his flight; He dashed his rowels in his steed, And vanished in the night. "Tho' thou the lance can hurl as well As one a reed might cast, Talk not of courage for thy crimes Thy house's honor blast. Seek not the revel or the dance, Loved by each Moorish dame.
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