It was a Moorish maiden was sitting by a well,
And what that maiden thought of, I cannot, cannot tell,
When by there rode a valiant knight, from the town of Oviedo—
Alphonso Guzman was he hight, the Count of Desparedo.

“O maiden, Moorish maiden! why sitt’st thou by the spring?
Say, dost thou seek a lover, or any other thing?
Why gazest thou...