Foiled, bleeding, breathless, furious to the last,
Full in the centre stands the Bull at bay,
Mid wounds, and clinging darts, and lances brast,
And foes disabled in the brutal fray:
And now the Matadores around him play,
Shake the red cloak, and poise the ready brand:
Once more through all he bursts his thundering way—
Vain rage! the mantle quits the conynge hand,
Wraps his fierce eye—'tis past—he sinks upon the sand!
Where his vast neck just mingles with the spine,
Sheathed in his form the deadly weapon lies.
He stops—he starts—disdaining to decline:
Slowly he falls, amidst triumphant cries,
Without a groan, without a struggle dies.
The decorated car appears—on high
- ["Brast" for "burst" is found in Spenser (Faërie Queene, i. 9. 21. 7), and is still current in Lancashire dialect. See Lanc. Gloss. (E. D. S. "brast").]
- [One bull-fight, one matador. In describing the last act Byron confuses the chulos or cloak-waving footmen, who had already played their part, with the single champion, the matador, who is about to administer the coup de grâce.]
- —— he lies along the sand.—[MS. erased.]
- The trophy corse is reared—disgusting prize.
or, The corse is reared—sparkling the chariot flies.—[MS. M.]
- [Compare Virgil, Æneid, viii. 264—
"Pedibusque informe cadaver
Protrahitur. Nequeunt expleri corda tuendo—"]