Sad was Montesinos’ heart, he Felt distress his bosom rend. “Oh! my cousin Durandarte, Woe is me to view thy end!

“Sweet in manners, fair in favour, Mild in temper, fierce in fight, Warrior, nobler, gentler, braver, Never shall behold the light!

“Cousin, lo! my tears bedew thee! How shall I thy loss survive! Durandarte, he who slew thee, Wherefore left he me alive!”