While grim tranquillity prevailed along the Christian line, there rose a mingled shout and sound of laughter near the gate of the city.  A Moorish horseman, armed at all points, issued forth, followed by a rabble, who drew back as he approached the scene of danger.  The Moor was more robust and brawny than was common with his countrymen.  His visor was closed; he bore a huge buckler and a ponderous lance; his cimeter was of a Damascus blade, and his richly ornamented dagger was wrought by an artificer of Fez.  He was Yarfe, the most insolent, yet valiant, of the Moslem warriors.  As he rode slowly along in front of the army, his very steed, prancing with fiery eye and distended nostril, seemed to breathe defiance to the Christians.

But what were the feelings of the Spanish cavaliers when they beheld, tied to the tail of his steed, and dragged in the dust, the inscription “Ave Maria,” which Hernando Perez del Pulgar had affixed to the door of the mosque!  A burst of horror and indignation broke forth from the army.  Hernando del Pulgar was not at hand, but one of his young companions-in-arms, Garcilasso de la Vega by name, putting spurs to his horse, galloped to the hamlet of Zubia, threw himself on his knees before the King, and besought permission to accept the defiance of this insolent infidel and to revenge the insult offered to our blessed Lady.  The request was too pious to be refused; Garcilasso remounted his steed; he closed his helmet, graced by four sable plumes, grasped his buckler of Flemish workmanship and his lance of matchless temper, and defied the haughty Moor in the midst of his career.

A combat took place in view of the two armies and of the Castilian court.  The Moor was powerful in wielding his weapons and dexterous in managing his steed.  He was of larger frame than Garcilasso and more completely armed; and the Christians trembled for their champion.  The shock of their encounter was dreadful; their lances were shivered and sent up splinters in the air.  Garcilasso was thrown back in the saddle—­his horse made a wild career before he could recover, gather up the reins, and return to the conflict.  They now encountered each other with swords.  The Moor circled round his opponent as hawk circles whereabout to make a swoop; his Arabian steed obeyed his rider with matchless quickness; at every attack of the infidel it seemed as if the Christian knight must sink beneath his flashing cimeter.  But if Garcilasso were inferior to him in power, he was superior in agility; many of his blows he parried; others he received upon his Flemish shield, which was proof against the Damascus blade.  The blood streamed from numerous wounds received by either warrior.

The Moor, seeing his antagonist exhausted, availed himself of his superior force, and, grappling, endeavored to wrest him from his saddle.  They both fell to earth; the Moor placed his knee upon the breast of his victim, and, brandishing his dagger, aimed a blow at his throat.  A cry of despair was uttered by the Christian warriors, when suddenly they beheld the Moor rolling lifeless in the dust.  Garcilasso had shortened his sword, and, as his adversary raised his arm to strike, had pierced him to the heart.