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 20

20 JV 94
 This is the best, wethink ,the
mostpowerful of all MrSouthey'
poems . It aboundswith laff bywa
timents,thequifernt imagery;tertiens
more rich comprehensive descriptions_
more beautiful pictures of pure affection
Tot impressive &presentations of
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 RODERICK ,

THE LAST OF THE GOTHS.

A TRAGIC POEM.

BY
ROBERT SOUTHEY.

PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY EDWARD EARLE.
AND
EASTBURN, KIRK AND CO., NEW YORK.
William Fry, Printer.
1815 .
BODEUKOK

MU
H SE
TIS UM
RI
 ΤΟ

GROSVENOR CHARLES BEDFORD,

THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED,

IN LASTING MEMORIAL OF A LONG AND UNING

TERRUPTED FRIENDSHIP,

BY HIS OLD SCHOOL-FELLOW,

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

a
065
 PREFACE .

THE history of the Wisi-Goths for some

years before their overthrow is very imper-
fectly known. It is however apparent, that
the enmity between the royal families ofChin-
dasuintho and Wamba was one main cause of
the destruction of the kingdom, the latter
party having assisted in betraying their coun
try tothe Moors for the gratification oftheir
own revenge. Theodofred and Favila were
younger sons of King Chindasuintho; King
Witiza, who was of Wamba's family, put
out the eyes of Theodofred, and murder-
ed Favila, at the instigation of that Chieftain's
wife, with whom he lived in adultery. Pelayó,
the son of Favila, and afterwards the founder
of theSpanish monarchy, was driven into ex-
ile. Roderick, the son of Theodofred, reco-
vered the throne, and put out Witiza's eyes
in vengeance for his father; but he spared
Orpas, the brother of the tyrant, as being
a Priest, and Ebba and Sisibert, the two sons
 viii

ofWitiza, by Pelayo's mother. It may be con-

venient thus briefly to premise these circum-
stances of an obscure portion of history, with
which few readers can be supposed to be fa-
miliar; and a list of the principal persons who
are introduced, or spoken of, may as properly
be prefixed to a Poem as to a Play.
 ix
1:|: ཀུན པའི 1 «« c% ¥¥ m

wigs To ro
Witiza • Kingofthe Wisi-Goths, dethroned
and blinded by Roderick.
Theodofred . ... son ofKing Chindasuintho; blinded
by King Witiza.
Favila, his brother; put to death by Witiza.
The Wife of Favila , Wifiza's adulterous mistress.
(These four persons are dead before the action of
the poem commences.)
Roderick, the last King of the Wisi-Goths:
son ofTheodofred.
Pelayo, .... the founder of the Spanish Monar-
chy: son ofFavila.
Gaudiosa, love his wife.
Guisla, . his sister.
Farvila,. his son.
Hermesind,. • his daughter.
Rusilla, • widow of Theodofred, and mother
of Roderick.
Count Pedro powerful Lords in Cantabria.
Count Eudon ·
Alphonso, Count Pedro's son, afterwards king.
Urban, • • Archbishop of Toledo.
Romano, .... • a Monk ofthe Caulian Schools,
near Merida.
Abdalaziz, the Moorish Governor of Spain.
Egilona ..... formerly the wife of Roderick,
now of Abdalaziz.
Abulcacem
Alcahman
Ayub. Moorish Chiefs.
Ibrahim
Magued
 X

Orpas brother to Witiza, and formerly

Archbishop of Seville, now a
renegade.
Sisibert . Sons of Witiza and of Pelayo's
Ebba . mother.
S
Numacian .... a renegade, governor ofGegio.
Count Julian ... a powerful Lord among the Wisi-
Goths, now a renegade.
Florinda ..... his daughter, violated by King Ro-
derick.

Adosinda daughter ofthe Governor of Auria.

Odoar .. Abbot of St. Felix.
Siverian . · Roderick's foster-father.
Favinia Count Pedro's wife.
The four latter persons are imaginary. All the
others are mentioned in history. I ought, however,
to observe, that Romano is a creature of monkish
legends; that the name of Pelayo's sister has not
been preserved; and that that of Roderick's mother,
Ruscilo, has been altered to Rusilla, for the sake of
euphony.
 CONTENTS.

1. Roderick and Romano 1

2. Roderick in Solitude 10
3. Adosinda . 17
4. The Monastery of St. Felix 29
5. Roderick and Siverian • 6 38
6. Roderick in times past 48
7. Roderick and Pelayo 54
8. Alphonso . 60
9. Florinda 66
10. Roderick and Florinda 70
11. Count Pedro's Castle 81
12. The Vow 86
13. Count Eudon 93
14. The Rescue 100
15. Roderick at Cangas 105
16. Covadonga 113
17. Roderick and Siverian 122
18. The Acclamation 129
19. Roderick and Rusilla 139
20. The Moorish Camp 143
21. The Fountain in the Forest 151
22. The Moorish Council 164
23. The Vale of Covadonga 171
24. Roderick and Count Julian 179
25. Roderick in Battle 187
NOTES 205
COMLER
exevolt has dukshoff &

multmit ba dirbo S
 RODERICK,

THE LAST OF THE GOTHS.

I.
LONG had the crimes of Spain cried out to Heaven;
At length the measure of offence was full.
Count Julian call'd the invaders: not because
Inhuman Priests with unoffending blood
Had stain'd their country; not because a yoke
Ofiron servitude oppress'd and gall'd
The children of the soil; a private wrong
Rous'd the remorseless Baron. Mad to wreak
His vengeance for his violated child
On Roderick's head, in evil hour for Spain,
For that unhappy daughter and himself,
Desperate apostate, .. on the Moors he call'd;
And like a cloud of locusts, whom the South
Wafts from the plains ofwasted Africa,
The Musslemen upon Iberia's shore
Descend. A countless multitude they came;
Syrian, Moor, Saracen, Greek renegade,
Persian and Copt and Tatar, in one bond
Of erring faith conjoin'd, .. strong in the youth
And heat of zeal,... a dreadful brotherhood,
In whom all turbulent vices were let loose;
While Conscience, with their impious creed accurst,
Drunk, as with wine, had sanctified to them
All bloody, all abominable things.
 2
Thou, Calpe, saw'st their coming: ancient Rock
Renown'd, no longer now shalt thou be call'd
From Gods and Heroes ofthe years of yore,
Kronos, or hundred-handed Briareus,
Bacchus or Hercules; but doom'd to bear
The name ofthy new conqueror, and thenceforth
To stand his everlasting monument.
Thou saw'st the dark-blue waters flash before
Their ominous way, and whiten round their keels;
Their swarthy myriads darkening o'er thy sands.
There on the beach the misbelievers spread
Theirbanners, flaunting to the sun and breeze:
Fair shone the sun upon their proud anay,
White turbans, glittering armour, shields engrail'd
With gold, and seymitars of Syrian steel;
And gently did the breezes, as in sport,
Curl their long flags outrolling, and display
'The blazon'd scrolls ofblasphemy. Too soon
The gales of Spain from that unhappy land
Wafted, as from an open charnel-house,
The taint ofdeath; and that bright Sun, from fields
Of slaughter, with the morning dew drew up
Corruption through the infected atmosphere.
Then fell the kingdom ofthe Goths; their hour
Was come, and Vengeance, long withheld , went loose.
Famine and Pestilence had wasted them,
And Treason, like an old and eating sore,
Consumed the bones and sinews of their strength;
And, worst of enemies, their Sins were arm'd
Against them. Yet the sceptre from their hands
Past not away inglorious; nor was shame
Left for their children's lasting heritage.
Eight summer days, from morn till latest eve,
The fatal fight endured, till perfidy
Prevailing to their overthrow, they sunk
Defeated, not dishonour'd. On the banks la mode på
Of Chrysus, Roderick's royal car was found; in
His battle-horse Orelio, and that helm
Whose horns, amid the thickest ofthe fray
 3
Eminent, had mark'd his presence. Did the stream
Receive him with the undistinguish'd dead,
Christian and Moor, who clogg'd its course that day?
So thought the Conqueror, and from that day forth,
Memorial of his perfect victory,
He bade the river bear the name of joy.
So thought the Goths; they said no prayer for him,
For him no service sung, nor mourning made,
But charged their crimes upon his head, and curst
His memory.
Bravely in that eight-days fight
The King had striven, .. for victory first, while hope
Remain'd, then desperately in search ofdeath.
The arrows past him by to right and left,
The spear-point pierced him not, the scymitar
Glanced from his helmet. Is the shield of Heaven,
Wretch that I am, extended over me?
Cried Roderick; and he dropt Orelio's reins,
And threw his hands aloft in frantic prayer, ..
Death is the only mercy that I crave,
Death soon and short, death and forgetfulness!
Aloud he cried; but in his inmost heart
There answered him a secret voice, that spake
Ofrighteousness and judgment after death,
And God's redeeming love, which fain would save
The guilty soul alive. 'Twas agony,
And yet 'twas hope; .... a momentary light,
That flash'd through utter darkness on the Cross
To point salvation, then left all within
Dark as before. Fear, never felt till then,
Sudden and irresistible as stroke
Oflightning, smote him. From his horse he dropt,
Whether with human impulse, or by Heaven
Struck down, he knew not; loosen'd from his wrist
The sword-chain, and let fall the sword, whose bilt
Clung to his palm a moment ere it fell,
Glued there with Moorish gore. His royal robe,
His horned helmet and enamell'd mail,
He cast aside, and taking from the dead
 4
A peasant's garment, in those weeds involved,
Stole, like a thiefin darkness, from the field.
Evening closed round to favour him. All night
He fled, the sound ofbattle in his ear
Ringing, and sights ofdeath before his eyes,
With dreams more horrible ofeager fiends
That seem'd to hover round, and gulphs of fire
Opening beneath his feet. At times the groan
Of some poor fugitive, who, bearing with him
His mortal hurt, had fallen beside the way,
Rous'd him from these dread visions, and he call'd
In answering groans on his Redeemer's name,
That word the only prayer that past his lips
Or rose within his heart. Then would he see
The Cross whereon a bleeding Saviour hung,
Who call'd on him to come and cleanse his soul
In those all-healing streams, which from his wounds,
As from perpetual springs, for ever flow'd.
No hart e'er panted for the water-brooks
As Roderick thirsted there to drink and live:
But Hell was interposed; and worse than Hell, ..
Yea to his eyes more dreadful than the fiends
Who flock'd like hungry ravens round his head,.
Florinda stood between, and warn'd him off
With her abhorrent hands, .. that agony
Stillin her face, which, when the deed was done,
Inflicted on her ravisher the curse
That it invoked from Heaven.... Oh what a night
Of waking horrors! Nor when morning came
Didthe realities oflight and day
Bring aught of comfort: wheresoe'er he went
The tidings ofdefeat had gone before;
And leaving their defenceless homes to seek
What shelter walls and battlements might yield,
Old men with feeble feet, and tottering babes,
And widows with their infants in their arms,
Hurried along. Nor royal festival,
Nor sacred pageant, with like multitudes
E'er fill'd the public way. All whom the sword
 5

Had spared were here; bed-rid infirmity

Alone was left behind: the cripple plied
His crutches, with her child of yesterday
The mother fled, and she whose hour was come
Fell by the road.
Less dreadful than this view
Of outward suffering which the day disclos'd,
Had night and darkness seem'd to Roderick's heart,
With all their dread creations. From the throng
He turned aside, unable to endure
This burthen of the general woe: nor walls,
Nor towers, nor mountain fastnesses he sought;
A firmer hold his spirit yearn'd to find,
A rock of surer strength. Unknowing where,
Straight through the wild he hasten'd on all day,
And with unslacken'd speed was travelling still
When evening gather'd round. Seven days from morn
Till night he travell'd thus; the forest oaks,
The fig-grove by the fearful husbandman
Forsaken to the spoiler, and the vines, x
Where fox and household dog together now
Fed on the vintage, gave him food: the hand
OfHeaven was on him, and the agony
Which wrought within, supplied a strength beyond
All natural force ofman.
When the eighth eve
Was come, he found himselfon Ana's banks,
Fast by the Caulian Schools. It was the hour
Ofvespers, but no vesper bell was heard,
Nor other sound, than ofthe passing stream,
Or stork, who, flapping with wide wing the air,
Sought her broad nest upon the silent tower.
Brethren and pupils thence alike had fled
To save themselves within the embattled walls
Ofneighbouring Merida. One aged Monk
Alone was left behind; he would not leave
The sacred spot beloved, for having served
There from his childhood up to ripe old age
God's holy altar, it became him now,
He thought, before that altar to await
 6
The merciless misbelievers, and lay down
His life, a willing martyr. So he staid
When all were gone, and duly fed the lamps,
And kept devotedly the altar drest,
And duly offer'd up the sacrifice.
Four days and nights he thus had past alone,
In such high mood of saintly fortitude,
That hope of Heaven became a heavenlyjoy;
And now at evening to the gate he went
Ifhe might spy the Moors, .. for it seem'd long
To tarry for his crown.
Before the Cross
Roderick had thrown himself: his body raised,
Halfkneeling, halfat length he lay; his arms
Embraced its foot, and from his lifted face
Tears streaming down bedew'd the senseless stone.-
He had not wept till now, and at the gush
Of these first tears, it seem'd as ifhis heart,
From a long winter's icy thrall let loose,
Had open'd to the genial influences
Of Heaven. In attitude, but not in act
Ofprayer he lay; an agony oftears
Was all his soul could offer. When the Monk
Behield him suffering thus, he raised him up,
And took him by the arm, and led him in;
And there before the altar, in the name
Of Him whose bleeding image there was hung,
Spake comfort, and adjured him in that name
There to lay down the burthen ofhis sins.
Lo! said Romano, I am waiting here
The coming ofthe Moors, that from their hands
My spirit may receive the purple robe
Ofmartyrdom, and rise to claim its crown.
That God who willeth not the sinner'sdeath
Hath led thee hither. Threescore years and five,
Even from the hour when I, a five-years child,
Enter'd the schools, have I continued here
And served the altar: not in all those years
Hath such a contrite and a broken heart
Appear'd before me. O my brother, Heaven
 Hath sent thee for thy comfort, and for mine,
That my last earthly act may reconcile
A sinner to his God.
Then Roderick knelt
Before the holy man, and strove to speak.
Thou seest, he cried, thou seest, but memory
And suffocating thoughts represt the word,
And shudderings, like an ague fit, from headun
Tofoot convulsed him; till at length, subduing
His nature to the effort, he exclaim'd,
Spreading his hands and lifting up his face,
9 As ifresolved in penitence to bear
Ahuman eye upon his shame, .. Thouseest
Roderick the Goth! That name would have sufficed
To tell the whole abhorred history:
He not the less pursued, .. the ravisher,
The cause of all this ruin! Having said,
In the same posture motionless he knelt,
Arms straightened down, and hands outspread, and
eyes
Raised to the Monk, like one who from his voice
Expected life or death.
All night the old man
Prayed with his penitent, and minister'd
Unto the wounded soul, till he infused
Ahealing hope of mercy, that allay'd
Its heat ofanguish. But Romano saw
What strong temptations of despair beset,
And how he needed in this second birth,
Even like a yearling child, a fosterer's care.
Father in Heaven, he cried, thy will be done!
Surely I hoped that I this day should sing
Hosannahs at thy throne; but thou hast yet
Work for thy servant here. He girt his loins,
And from her altar took with reverent hands
Our Lady's image down: In this, quoth he,
We have ourguide and guard and comforter,
The best provision for our perilous way.
" Fear not but we shall find a resting place,
The Almighty's hand is on us.
 Brydens They went forth,
They crost the stream, and when Romano turn'd
For his last look toward the Caulian towers,
Far offthe Moorish standards in the light
Of morn were glittering, where the miscreant host
Toward the Lusitanian capital
To lay their siege advanced: the eastern breeze
Bore to the fearful travellers far away
The sound ofhorn and tambour o'er the plain.
All day they hasten'd, and when evening fell
Sped toward the setting sun, as ifits line
Ofglory came from Heaven to point their course.
Butfeeble were the feet of that old man
For such a wearylength of way; and now
Being past the danger (for in Merida
Sacaru long in resolute defence
Withstood the tide ofwar,) with easier pace
The wanderers journeyed on; till having crost
Old Tagus, and the rapid Zezere,
They from Albardos' hoary height beheld
Pine-forest, fruitful vale, and that fair lake
Where Alcoa, mingled there with Baza's stream,
Rests on its passage to the western sea,
That sea the aim and boundary oftheir toil.
The fourth week of their painful pilgrimage
10. Was full, when they arrived where from the land
A rocky hill, rising with steep ascent,
O'erhung the glittering beach; there on the top
A little lowly hermitage they found,
And a rude Cross, and at its foot a grave,
Bearing no name, nor other monument.
Where better could they rest than here, where faith
And secret penitence and happiest death
Had blest the spot, and brought good angels down,
And opened as it were a way to Heaven?
Behind them was the desert, offering fruit
And water for their need; on either side
The white sand sparkling to the sun; in front,
 9
Great Ocean with its everlasting voice,
As in perpetual jubilee, proclaim'd
The wonders of the Almighty, filling thus
The pauses oftheir fervent orisons.
Where better could the wanderers rest than here?
Raderick in Solitude.

II.

TWELVE months they sojourn'd in their solitude,

And then beneath the burden of old age
Romano sunk. No brethren were there here
To spread the sackcloth, and with ashes strew
That penitential bed, and gather round
To sing his requiem, and with prayer and psalm
Assist him in his hour ofagony.
He lay on the bare earth, which long had been
His only couch; beside him Roderick knelt,
Moisten'd from time to time his blacken'd lips,
Received a blessing with his latest breath,
Then closed his eyes, and by the nameless grave
Ofthe fore-tenant ofthat holy place
Consign'd him, earth to earth.
Two graves are here,
And Roderick transverse at their feet began
To break the third. In all his intervals
Of prayer, save only when he search'd the woods
And fill'd the water-cruize, he labour'd there;
And when the work was done, and he had laid
Himselfat length within its narrow sides
And measured it, he shook his head to think
There was no other business now for him.
Poor wretch, thy bed is ready, he exclaim'd,
And would that night were come! ... It was a task,
All gloomy as it was, which had beguiled
The sense of solitude; but now he felt
The burthen of the solitary hours:
The silence ofthat lonely hermitage
Lay on him like a spell; and at the voice
 11
Ofhis own prayers, he started, halfaghast.
Then too, as on Romano's grave he sate
And pored upon his own, a natural thought
Arose within him, .. well might he have spared
That useless toil: the sepulchre would be
No hiding place for him; no Christian hands
Were here who should compose his decent corpse
And cover it with earth. There he might drag
His wretched body at its passing hour,
And there the Sea-Birds of her heritage
Would rob the worm, or peradventure seize,
Ere death had done its work, their helpless prey.
Even now they did not fear him: when he walk'd
Beside them on the beach, regardlessly
They saw his coming; and their whirring wings
Upon the height had sometimes fann'd his cheek,
As if, being thus alone, humanity
Had lost its rank, and the prerogative
Of man was done away.
-For his lost crown
And sceptre never had he felt a thought
Of pain: repentance had no pangs to spare
For trifles such as these,.. the loss of these
Was a cheap penalty: .. that he had fallen
Down to the lowest depth of wretchedness,
His hope and consolation . But to lose
His human station in the scale of things,..
To see brute Nature scorn him, and renounce
Its homage to the human form divine; ..
Had then almighty vengeance thus reveal'd
His punishment, and was he fallen indeed
Below fallen man, .. below redemption's reach, ..
Made lower than the beasts, and like the beasts
To perish!.. Such temptations troubled him
By day, and in the visions ofthe night;
And even in sleep he struggled with the thought,
And waking with the effort of his prayers
The dream assail'd him still.
A wilder form
Sometimes his poignant penitence assumed,
 12
Starting with force revived from intervals
Ofcalmer passion, or exhausted rest;
When floating back upon the stream of thought
Remembrance to a self-excusing strain is cate ceann?
Beguiled him, and recall'd in long array
The sorrows and the secret impulses a Gorkilds of
Which to the abyss of wretchedness and guilt
Led their unwary victim. The evil hour
Return'd upon him, when reluctantly and beforeT,
Yielding to worldly counsel his assent,
In wedlock to an ill-assorted mate
He gave his cold unwilling hand: then came
The disappointment ofthe barren bed,
The hope deceived, the soul dissatisfied,
Home without love, and privacy from which
Delight was banish'd first, and peace too soon
Departed. Was it strange that when he met
A heart attuned, .. a spirit like his own,
Of lofty pitch, yet in affection mild,
And tender as a youthful mother's joy, ...
Oh was it strange ifat such sympathy
The feelings which within his breast repell'd along
And chill'd had shrunk, should open forth like flowers
After cold winds of night, when gentle gales
Restore the genial sun! Ifall were known,
Would it indeed be not to be forgiven?..
(Thus would he lay the unction to his soul,)se
If all were truly known, as Heaven knows all,
Heaven that is merciful as well as just,.
A passion slow and mutual in its growth,
Pure as fraternal love, long self- conceal'd,
And when confess'd in silence, long controll'd;
Treacherous occasion, human frailty, fear
Of endless separation, worse than death, ..
The purpose and the hope with which the Fiend
Tempted, deceived, and madden'd him; ...but then
As at a new temptation would he start,
Shuddering beneath the intolerable shame,
And clench in agony his matted hair;
While inhis soul the perilous thought arose,
 1
13

How easy 'twere to plunge where yonder waves

Invited him to rest.
Oh for a voice
Of comfort, ..for a ray ofhope from Heaven!
A hand that from these billows ofdespairpaty
May reachand snatch him ere he sink engulph'd!
At length, as life when it hath lain long time
Opprest beneath some grievous malady,
Seems to rouse up with re-collected strength, herquest
And the sick man doth feel within himself
A second spring; so Roderick's better mind alang
Arose to save him. Lo! the western sun
Flames o'er the broad Atlantic; on the verge,
Ofglowing ocean rests; retiring then
Draws with it all its rays, and sudden night
Fills the whole cope of Heaven. The penitent
Knelt byRomano's grave, and, falling prone,
Claspt with extended arms the funeral mould.
Father! he cried; Companion! only friend,
When all beside was lost! thou too art gone,
And the poor sinner whom from utter death
Thy providential hand preserved, once more
Totters upon the gulph. I am too weak
Forsolitude, ..too vile a wretch to bearde
This everlasting commune with myself. mode
The Tempter hath assail'd me; my own heart
Is leagued with him; Despair hath laid the nets
To take my soul, and Memory, like a ghost,
Haunts me, and drives me to the toils. O Saint,
While I was blest with thee, the hermitage
Was my sure haven! Look upon me still,
For from thy heavenly mansion thou canst see
The suppliant; look upon thy child in Christ.
Is there no other way for penitence?
I ask not martyrdom; for what am I
That I should pray for triumphs, the fit meed
Ofa long life ofholy works like thine;
Or how should I presumptuously aspire
To wear the heavenly crown resign'd by thee,
For my poor sinful sake? Oh point me thou
ottow many on sharing emory
for ili
it &taffy his
 14
Some humblest, painfullest, severest path
Some new austerity, unheard ofyet
In Syrian fields of glory, or the sands
Of holiest Egypt. Let me bind my brow
With thorns, and barefoot seek Jerusalem,
Tracking the way with blood; there day by day
Inflict upon this guilty flesh the scourge,
Drink vinegar and gall, and for my bed
Hang with extended limbs upon the Cross,
A nightly crucifixion! .. any thing
Of action, difficulty, bodily pain,
Labour and outward suffering,..any thing
But stillness and this dreadful solitude!
Romano! Father! let me hear thy voice
In dreams, O sainted Soul! or from the grave
Speak to thy penitent; even from the grave
Thine were a voice of comfort.
Thus he cried,
Easing the pressure ofhis burthen'd heart
With passionate prayer; thus pour'd his spirit forth,
Till the long effort had exhausted him,
His spirit fail'd, and laying on the grave
His weary head, as on a pillow, sleep
Fell on him. He had pray'd to hear a voice
Ofconsolation, and in dreams a voice
Of consolation came. Roderick, it said,.
Roderick, my poor, unhappy, sinful child,
Jesus have mercy on thee! ... Not if Heaven
Had open'd, and Romano, visible
In his beatitude, had breath'd that prayer; ...
Not ifthe Grave had spoken, had it pierced
So deeply in his soul, nor wrung his heart
With such compunctious visitings, nor given
So quick, so keen a pang. It was that voice
Which sung his fretful infancy to sleep
So patiently; which sooth'd his childish griefs; t
Counsell'd, with anguish and prophetic tears,
His headstrong youth. And lo! his mother stood
12 Before him in the vision: in those weeds
Which never from the hour when to the grave
 15
She followed her dear lord Theodofred
Rusilla laid aside; but in her face
A sorrow that bespake a heavier load
At heart, and more unmitigated woe:..
Yea a more mortal wretchedness than when
Witiza's ruffians and the red-hot brass
Had done their work, and in her arms she held
13Her eyeless husband; wiped away the sweat
Which still his tortures forced from every pore;
Cool'd his scorch'd lids with medicinal herbs,
And pray'd the while for patience for herself
And him, and pray'd for vengeance too, and found
Best comfort in her curses. In his dream,
Groaning he knelt before her to beseech
Her blessing, and she rais'd her hands to lay
A benediction on him. But those hands
Were chain'd, and casting a wild look around,
With thrilling voice she cried, Will no one break
These shameful fetters? Pedro, Theudemir,
Athanagild, where are ye? Roderick's arm
Is withered, .. Chiefs ofSpain, but where are ye?
And thou, Pelayo, thou our surest hope,
Dost thou too sleep?.. Awake, Pelayo! .. up! ..
Why tarriest thou, Deliverer? ..But with that
She broke her bonds, and lo! her form was changed!
Radiant in arms she stood! a bloody Cross
Gleam'd on her breast-plate, in her shield display'd
Erect a Lion ramp'd; her helmed head
Rose like the Berecynthian Goddess crown'd
With towers, and in her dreadful hand the sword
Red as a fire-brand blazed. Anon the tramp
Ofhorsemen, and the din of multitudes
Moving to mortal conflict, rung around;
The battle-song, the clang of sword and shield,
War-cries and tumult, strife and hate and rage,
Blasphemous prayers, confusion, agony,
Rout and pursuit and death; and over all
The shout of Victory . Spain and Victory!
Roderick, as the strong vision master'd him,
Rush'd to the fight rejoicing: starting then,
 16

As his own effort burst the charm ofsleep,

He found himself upon that lonely grave
In moonlight and in silence. But the dream
Wrought in him still; for still he felt his heart
Pant, and his wither'd arm was trembling still;
And still that voice was in his ear which call'd
On Jesus for his sake.
Oh might he hear
That actual voice! and if Rusilla lived, ..
If shame and anguish for his crimes not yet
Had brought her to the grave, .. sure she would bless
Her penitent child, and pour into his heart
Prayers and forgiveness, which, like precious balm,
Would heal the wounded soul. Nor to herself
Less precious, or less healing, would the voice
That spake forgiveness flow. She wept her son
For ever lost, cut off with all the weight
Ofunrepented sin upon his head,
Sin which had weigh'd a nation down: .. what joy
To know that righteous Heaven had in its wrath
Remember'd mercy, and she yet might meet
The child whom she had borne, redeem'd, in bliss!
The sudden impulse of such thoughts confirm'd
That unacknowledged purpose, which till now
Vainly had sought its end. He girt his loins,
Laid blessed Mary's image in a cleft
Of the rock, where, shelter'd from the elements,
It might abide till happier days came on,
From all defilement safe; pour'd his last prayer
Upon Romano's grave, and kiss'd the earth
Which cover'd his remains, and wept as if
At long leave-taking, then began his way.
 Adasinda .

III.

TWAS now the earliest morning ; soon the Sun,

Rising above Albardos, pour'd his light
Amid the forest, and with ray aslant
Entering its depth, illumed the branchless pines,
Brighten'd their bark, tinged with a redder hue
Its rusty stains, and cast along the floor
Long lines of shadow, where they rose erect,
Like pillars ofthe temple. With slow foot
Roderick pursued his way; for penitence,
Remorse which gave no respite, and the long
And painful conflict of his troubled soul,
Had worn him down. Now brighter thoughts arose,
And that triumphant Vision floated still
Before his sight, with all her blazonry,
Her castled helm, and the victorious sword
That flash'd like lightning o'er the field of blood.
Sustain'd by thoughts like these, from morn till eve
He journey'd, and drew near Leyria's walls.
'Twas even-song time, but not a bell was heard;
Instead thereof, on her polluted towers,
Bidding the Moors to their unhallow'd prayer,
The cryer stood, and with his sonorous voice
Fill'd the delicious vale where Lena winds
Through groves and pastoral meads. The sound, the
sight
Of turban, girdle, robe, and scymitar,
And tawny skins, awoke contending thoughts
Ofanger, shame, and anguish in the Goth;
The unaccustom'd face ofhuman-kind
Confused him now, and through the streets he went
 18

With hagged mien, and countenance like one

Crazed or bewilder'd. All who met him turn'd,
And wonder'd as he past. One stopt him short,
Put alms into his hand, and then desired,
In broken Gothic speech, the moon-struck man
To bless him. With a look of vacancy
Roderick received the alms; his wandering eye
Fell on the money, and the fallen King,
Seeing his own royal impress on the piece,
Broke out into a quick convulsive voice,
That seem'd like laughter first, but ended soon
In hollow groans supprest: the Mussleman
Shrunk at the ghastly sound, and magnified
The name of Allah as he hasten'd on.
A Christian woman spinning at her door
Beheld him, and with sudden pity touch'd
She laid her spindle by, and running in
Took bread, and following after call'd him back,
And placing in his passive hands the loaf,
She said, Christ Jesus for his Mother's sake
Have mercy on thee! With a look that seem'd
Like idiotcy he heard her, and stood still,
Staring awhile; then bursting into tears
Wept like a child, and thus relieved his heart,
Full even to bursting else with swelling thoughts.
So through the streets, and through the northern gate ,
Did Roderick, reckless ofa resting place,
With feeble yet with hurried step, pursue
His agitated way; and when he reach'd
The open fields, and found himself alone
Beneath the starry canopy of Heaven,
The sense of solitude, so dreadful late,
Was then repose and comfort. There he stopt
Beside a little rill, and brake the loaf;
And shedding o'er that unaccustom'd food
Painful but quiet tears, with grateful soul
He breathed thanksgiving forth, then made his bed
On heath and myrtle.
But when he rose
At day-break and pursued his way, his heart
 19

Felt lighten'd that the shock of mingling first

Among his fellow-kind was overpast;
And journeying on, he greeted whom he met
With such short interchange ofbenison
As each to other gentle travellers give,
Recovering thus the power of social speech
-Which he had long disused. When hunger prest
He ask'd for alms: slight supplication served;
A countenance so pale and woe-begone
Moved all to pity; and the marks it bore
Ofrigorous penance and austerest life,
With something too of majesty that still
Appear'd amid the wreck, inspired a sense
Of reverence too. The goatherd on the hills
Open'd his scrip for him; the babe in arms,
Affrighted at his visage, turn'd away,
And clinging to its mother's neck in tears
Would yet again look up, and then again,
With cry renew'd, shrink back. The bolder imps.
Who play'd beside the way, at his approach
Brake offtheir sport for wonder, and stood still
In silence; some among them cried, A Saint!
The village matron when she gave him food
Besought his prayers; and one entreated him
To lay his healing hands upon her child,
For with a sore and hopeless malady
Wasting, it long had laid, .. and sure, she said,
He was a man of God.
Thus travelling on
He past the vale where wild Arunca pours
Its wintry torrents; and the happier site
Of old Conimbrica, whose ruin'd towers
Bore record ofthe fierce Alani's wrath.
Mondego too he crost, not yet renown'd
In poet's amorous lay; and left behind
The walls at whose foundation pious hands
Of Priest and Monk and Bishop meekly toil'd, ..
So had the insulting Arian given command.
Those stately palaces and rich domains
Were now the Moor's, and many a weary age
 20
Must Coimbra wear the misbeliever's yoke,
Before Fernando's banner through her gate
Shall pass triumphant, and her hallow'd Mosque
Behold the hero of Bivar receive
The knighthood which he glorified so oft
In his victorious fields. Oh if the years
To come might then have risen on Roderick's soul,
How had they kindled and consoled his heart!.
What joy might Douro's haven then have given,
Whence Portugal, the faithful and the brave,
Shall take her name illustrious! .. what, those walls
Where Mumadona one day will erect
Convent and town and towers, which shall become
The cradle of that famous monarchy!
What joy might these prophetic scenes have given,
What ample vengeance on the Mussleman,
Driven out with foul defeat, and made to feel
In Africa the wrongs he wrought to Spain;
And still pursued by that relentless sword,
Even to the farthest Orient, where his power
Received its mortal wound.
years ofpride!
In undiscoverable futurity, a
Yet unevolved, your destined glories lay;
And all that Roderick in these fated scenes
Beheld, was grief and wretchedness, .. the waste
Ofrecent war, and that more mournful calm
Ofjoyless, helpless, hopeless servitude.
'Twas not the ruin'd walls of church or tower,
Cottage or hall or convent, black with smoke;
'Twas not the unburied bones, which, where the dogs
And crows had strewn them, lay amid the field
Bleaching in sun and shower, that wrung his heart
With keenest anguish; 'twas when he beheld
The turban'd traitor shew his shameless front
In the open eye of heaven, .. the renegade,
On whose base brutal nature unredeem'd
Even black apostacy itself could stamp
No deeper reprobation, at the hour
Assign'd fall prostrate, and unite the names
 21
Of God and the Blasphemer, .. impious prayer, ..
Most impious, when from unbelieving lips
The accursed utterance came. Then Roderick's heart
With indignation burnt, and then he long'd
To be a King again, that so, for Spain
Betray'd and his Redeemer thus renounced,
He might inflict due punishment, and make
These wretches feel his wrath. But when he saw
The daughters ofthe land, .. who, as they went
With cheerful step to church, were wont to shew
Their innocent faces to all passers eyes,
Freely, and free from sin as when they look'd
In adoration and in praise to Heaven, ..
Now mask'd in Moorish mufflers , to the mosque
Holding uncompanied their jealous way,
His spirit seem'd at that unhappy sight
To die away within him, and he too
Would fain have died, so death could bring with it
Entire oblivion.
Rent with thoughts like these,
He reach'd that city, once the seat renown'd
Of Suevi kings, where, in contempt ofRome
Degenerate long, the North's heroic race
Raised first a rival throne; now from its state
Of proud regality debased and fall'n.
Still bounteous Nature o'er the lovely vale,
Where like a Queen rose Bracara august,
Pour'd forth her gifts profuse; perennial springs
Flow'd for her habitants, and genial suns,
With kindly showers to bless the happy clime,
Combined in vain their gentle influences:
For patient servitude was there, who bow'd
His neck beneath the Moor, and silent grief
That eats into the soul. The walls and stones
Seem'd to reproach their dwellers; stately pilęs
Yet undecay'd, the mighty monuments
Of Roman pomp, Barbaric palaces,
And Gothic halls, where haughty Barons late
Gladden'd their faithful vassals with the feast
And flowing bowl, alike the spoiler's now.
 22

Leaving these captive scenes behind, he crost

Cavado's silver current, and the banks
Of Lima, through whose groves in after years,
Mournful yet sweet, Diogo's amorous lute
Prolong'd its tuneful echoes. But when now
Beyond Arnoya's tributary tide,
He came where Minho roll'd its ampler stream
By Auria's ancient walls, fresh horrors met
His startled view; for prostrate in the dust
Those walls were laid, and towers and temples stood
Tottering in frightful ruins, as the flame
Had left them, black and bare; and through the streets,
All with the recent wreck of war bestrewn,
Helmet and turban, seymitar and sword,
Christian and Moor in death promiscuous lay
Each where they fell; and blood-flakes, parch'd and
crack'd
Like the dry slime of some receding flood;
And half-burnt bodies, which allured from far
The wolfand raven, and to impious food
Tempted the houseless dog.
A thrilling pang,
A sweat like death, a sickness ofthe soul,
Came over Roderick. Soon they past away,
And admiration in their stead arose,
Stern joy, and inextinguishable hope,
With wrath, and hate, and sacred vengeance now
Indissolubly link'd. O valiant race,
O people excellently brave, he cried,
True Goths ye fell, and faithful to the last;
Though overpower'd triumphant, and in death
Unconquer'd! Holy be your memory!
Blessed and glorious now and evermore
Be your heroic names! ... Led by the sound,
As thus he cried aloud, a woman came
Toward him from the ruins. For the love
Of Christ, she said, lend me a little while 0
Thy charitable help! ...Her words, her voice,
Her look, more horror to his heart convey'd
Than all the havock round; for though she spake
 23

With the calm utterance ofdespair, in tones

Deep-breath'd and low, yet never sweeter voice
Pour'd forth its hymns in ecstasy to Heaven.
Her hands were bloody, andher garments stain'd
With blood, her face with blood and dust defil'd.
Beauty and youth, and grace and majesty,
Had every charm ofform and feature given;
But now upon her rigid countenance
Severest anguish set a fixedness
Ghastlier than death.
She led him through the streets
Alittle way along, where four low walls,
Heapt rudely from the ruins round, enclosed
A narrow space; and there upon the ground
Four bodies, decently composed, were laid,
Though horrid all with wounds and clotted gore;
A venerable ancient, by his side
A comely matron, for whose middle age,
(Ifruthless slaughter had not intervened)
Nature it seem'd, and gentle Time, might well
Have many a calm declining year in store;
The third an armed warrior, on his breast
An infant, over whom his arms were crost.
There,.. with firm eye and steady countenance,
Unfaultering, she addrest him, .. there they lie,
Child, Husband, Parents, .. Adosinda's all!
I could not break the earth with these poor hands,
Nor other tomb provide, .. but let that pass!
Auria itself is now but one wide tomb
For all its habitants: .. What better grave?
What worthier monument? .. Oh cover not
Their blood, thou Earth! and ye, ye blessed Souls
OfHeroes and of murder'd Innocents,
Oh never let your everlasting cries
Cease round the eternal throne, till the Most High
For all these unexampled wrongs hath given
Full, .. overflowing vengeance.
While she spake
She raised her lofty hands to Heaven, as if
Calling for justice on the Judgment-seat;
 24
Then laid them on her eyes, and leaning on
Bent o'er the open sepulchre.
But soon
With quiet mien collectedly, like one
Who from intense devotion, and the act
Ofardent prayer, arising, girds himself 1
For this world's daily business, .. she arose, C
And said to Roderick, Help me now to raise
The covering ofthe tomb.
With half-burnt planks,
Which she had gather'd for this funeral use,
They roof'd the vault; then laying stones above
They closed it down; last, rendering all secure,
Stones upon stones they piled, till all appear'd
A huge and shapeless heap. Enough, she cried;
And taking Roderick's hands in both her own,
And wringing them with fervent thankfulness ,
May God shew mercy to thee, she exclaim'd,
When mostthou needest mercy! Who thou art
I know not; not of Auria, for ofall
Her sons and daughters, save the one who stands
Before thee, not a soul is left alive.
But thou hast rendered to me, in my hour
Ofneed, the only help which man could give.
What else of consolation may be found
For one so utterly bereft, from Heaven
And from myselfmust come. For deem not thou
That I shall sink beneath calamity:
This visitation, like a lightning-stroke,
Hath scath'd the fruit and blossom of my youth;
One hour hath orphan'd me, and widow'd me,
And made me childless. In this sepulchre
Lie buried all my earthward hopes and fears,
All human loves and natural charities; ..
All womanly tenderness, all gentle thoughts,
All female weakness too, I bury here,
Yea, all my former nature. There remain.
Revenge and death:..the bitterness of death
Is past, and Heaven already hath vouchsafed
Aforetaste of revenge.
 25
Look here! she cried,
And drawing back, held forth her bloody hands, ..
'Tis Moorish! ...In the day ofmassacre,
A captain of Alcahman's murderous host
Reserved me from the slaughter. Not because
My rank and station tempted him with thoughts
Of ransom, for amid the general waste
Of ruin all was lost: ... Nor yet, be sure,
That pity moved him,.. they who fromthis race
Accurst for pity look, such pity find
As ravenous wolves shew the defenceless flock.
My husband at my feet had fall'n; my babe, ..
Spare me that thought, O God! .. and then.. even then
Amid the maddening throes of agony
Which rent my soul,..when if this solid Earth
Had open'd and let out the central fire,
Before whose all-involving flames wide Heaven
Shall shrivel like a scroll and be consumed,
The universal wreck had beento me
Reliefand comfort,... even then this Moor
Turn'd on me his libidinous eyes, and bade
His men reserve me safely for an hour
Ofdalliance,..me! ..me in my agonies!
But when I found for what this miscreant child
Ofhellhad snatch'd me from the butchery,
The very horror of that monstrous thought
Saved me from madness; I was calm at once, ..
Yea comforted and reconciled to lifet
Hatred became to me the life of life, gefa hizo,the
Its purpose and its power.
www The glutted Moors
At length broke up. This hell-dog turn'd aside
Toward his home: We travelled fast and far,
Till by a forest edge at eve he pitch'd
His tents. I wash'd and ate at his command,
Forcing revolted nature! I composed
My garments and bound up my scatter'd hair; ffed weld
And when he took my hand, and to his couch for
Would fain have drawn me, gently I retired
From that abominable touch, and said,
B
 26
Forbear to-night I pray thee, for this day
Awidow, as thou seest me, am I made;
Therefore, according to our law, must watch
And pray to-night. The loathsome villain paused
Ere he assented, then laid down to rest;
While at the door ofthe pavilion, I
Knelt on the ground, and bow'd my face to earth;
But when the neighbouring tents had ceased their stir,
The fires were out, and all were fast asleep,
Then I arose. The blessed Moon from Heaven
Lent me her holy light. I did not pray
For strength, for strength was given me as I drew
The scymitar, and, standing o'er his couch,
Baised it in both my hands with steady aim,
And smote his neck. Upward, as from a spring
When newly open'd by the husbandman,
The villain's life-blood spouted. Twice I struck,
So making vengeance sure; then, praising God,
Retired amid the wood, and measured back
My patient way to Auria, to perform
This duty which thou seest.
As thus she spake,
Roderick intently listening had forgot
His crown, his kingdom, his calamities,
His crimes, ..so like a spell upon the Goth
Her powerful words prevail'd. With open lips,
And eager ear, and eyes which, while they watch'd
Her features, caught the spirit that she breathed,
Mute and enrapt he stood, and motionless;
The vision rose before him; and that shout,
Which, like a thunder-peal, victorious Spain
Sent through the welkin, rung within his soul
Its deep prophetic echoes. On his brow
The pride and power of former majesty
Dawn'd once again, but changed and purified: het zitat
Duty, and high heroic purposes,
Now hallow'd it, and, as with inward light, rasmny M
Illumed his meagre countenance austere, et sa buh
quiero seilt s
 27
Awhile in silence Adosinda stood,
Reading his alter'd visage, and the thoughts
Which thus transfigured him. Aye, she exclaim'd,
The tale hath moved thee: it might move the dead,
Quicken captivity's dead soul, and rouse
This prostrate country from her mortal trance:
Therefore I live to tell it. And for this •
Hath the Lord God Almighty given to me
A spirit not mine own, and strength from Heaven;
Dealing with me as in the days ofold
With that Bethulian Matron, when she saved
His people from the spoiler. What remains,
But that the life which he hath thus preserved
I consecrate to him? Not veil'd and vow'd
To pass my days in holiness and peace;
Nor yet between sepulchral walls immured,
Alive to penitence alone; my rule
He hath himself prescribed, and hath infused
A passion in this woman's breast, wherein
All passions and all virtues are combined:
Love, hatred, joy, and anguish, and despair,
And hope, and natural piety, and faith,
Make upthe mighty feeling. Call it not
Revenge; thus sanctified and thus sublimed,
'Tis duty, 'tis devotion. Like the grace
Of God, it came and saved me; and in it
Spain must have her salvation. In thy hands
Here, on the grave of all my family,
I make my vow.
She said, and, kneeling down,
Placed within Roderick's palms her folded hands.
This life, she cried, I dedicate to God,
Therewith to do him service in the way
Which he hath shown. To rouse the land against
This impious, this intolerable yoke, ..
To offer upthe invader's hateful blood, ..
This shall be my employ, my rule and rite,
Observances and sacrifice offaith;
For this I hold the life which he hath given,
Asacred trust; for this, when it shall suit
 28
His service, joyfully will lay it down.
So deal with me as I fulfil the pledge,
O Lord my God, my Saviour and my Judge!
Then rising from the earth, she spread her arms,
And looking round with sweeping eyes, exclaim'd,
Auria, and Spain, and Heaven, receive the vow!
The Monastery of St.
Felix .

IV.

THUS long had Roderick heard her powerful words

In silence, awed before her; but his soul
Was fill'd the while with swelling sympathy,
And now with impulse not to be restrain'd
The feeling overpower'd him. Hear me too,
Auria, and Spain, and Heaven! he cried; and thou
Who risest thus above mortality,
Sufferer and patriot, saint and heroine,
The servant and the chosen of the Lord,
For surely such thou art, .. receive in me
The first fruits of thy calling. Kneeling then,
And placing as he spake his hands in hers,
As thou hast sworn, the royal Goth pursued,
Even so I swear: my soul hath found at length
Her rest and refuge; in the invader's blood
She must efface her stains of mortal sin,
And in redeeming this lost land, work out
Redemption for herself. Herein I place
My penance for the past, my hope to come,
My faith and my good works; here offer up
All thoughts and passions of mine inmost heart,
My days and nights, .. this flesh, this blood, this life,
Yea this whole being, I devote it here
For Spain. Receive the vow, all Saints in Heaven,
And prosper its good end! ... Clap now your wings,
The Goth with louder utterance as he rose
Exclaim'd,.. clap now your wings exultingly,
Ye ravenous fowl ofheaven; and in your dens
Set up, ye wolves of Spain, a yell of joy;
For lo! a nation hath this day been sworn
 30
To furnish forth your banquet; for a strife
Hath been commenced , the which from this day forth
Permits no breathing-time, and knows no end,
Till in this land the last invader bow
Hisneck beneath the exterminating sword.
Said I not rightly? Adosinda cried;
" The will which goads me on is not mine own,
'Tisfrom on high, .. yea, verily of Heaven!
But who art thou who hast profess'd with me,
My first sworn brother in the appointed rule?
Tell me thy name.
Ask any thing but that!
The fallen King replied. My name was lost
Whenfrom the Goths the sceptre past away.
The nation will arise regenerate ;
Strong in her second youth, and beautiful,
And like a spirit which hath shaken off
The clog ofdull mortality , shall Spain
Arise in glory. But for my good name
No resurrection is appointed here.
Let be it blotted out on earth; in Heaven
There shall be written with it penitence, es
And grace and saving faith, and such good deeds
Wrought in atonement as my soul this day
Hath sworn to offer up.
Then be thy name,
She answer'd, Maccabee, from this day forth:
For this day art thou born again; and like
Those brethren ofold times, whose holy names
Live in the memory ofall noble hearts
For love and admiration, ever young, ..
So for our native country, for her hearths
And altars, for her cradles and her graves,
Hast thou thyself devoted. Let us now
Each to our work. Among the neighbouring hills,
I to the vassals ofmy father's house;
Thou to Visonia. Tellthe Abbot there H
What thou hast seen at Auria; and with him
Take counsel who ofall our Baronage
 31
Is worthiest to lead on the sons ofSpain,
And wear upon his brow the Spanish crown.
Now, brother, fare thee well! we part in hope,
And we shall meet again, be sure, in joy.
So saying, Adosinda left the King
Alone amid the ruins. There he stood,
As when Elisha, on the farther bank
OfJordan, saw that elder prophet mount
The fiery chariot, and the steeds offire,
Trampling the whirlwind, bear him up the sky:
Thus gazing after her did Roderick stand;
And as the immortal Tishbite left behind
His mantle and prophetic power, even so
Had her inspiring presence left infused
The spirit which she breathed. Gazing he stood,
As at a heavenly visitation there
Vouchsafed in mercy to himself and Spain;
And when the heroic mourner from his sight
Had past away, still reverential awe
Held him suspended there and motionless.
Then turning from the ghastly scene ofdeath
Up murmuring Lona, he began toward
The holy Bierzo his obedient way.
Sil's ample stream he crost, where through the vale
Of Orras, from that sacred land it bears
The whole collected waters: northward then,
Skirting the heights ofAguiar, he reach'd
That consecrated pile, amid the wild,
Which sainted Fructuoso in his zeal
Rear'd to St. Felix, on Visonia's banks.
In commune with a priest of age mature,
Whose thoughtful visage and majestic mien
Bespake authority and weight ofcare,
Odoar, the venerable Abbot, sate;
When ushering Roderick in, the Porter said,
A stranger came from Auria, and required
His private ear. From Auria? said the old man,
 32
Comest thou from Auria, brother? I can spare
Thy painful errand then, .. we know the worst.
Nay, answer'd Roderick, but thou hast not heard
My tale. Where that devoted city lies
In ashes, mid the ruins and the dead
I found a woman, whom the Moors had borne
Captive away; but she, by Heaven inspired
And her good heart, with her own arm had wrought
Her own deliverance, smiting in his tent
A lustful Moorish miscreant, as of yore
By Judith's holy deed the Assyrian fell.
And that same spirit which had strengthen'd her
Work'd in her still. Four walls with patient toil
She rear'd, wherein, as in a sepulchre,
With her own hands she laid her murder'd babe,
Her husband and her parents, side by side;
And when we cover'd in this shapeless tomb,
There on the grave ofall her family,
Did this courageous mourner dedicate
All thoughts and actions of her future life
To her poor country. For she said, that Heaven
Supporting her, in mercy had vouchsafed
Aforetaste of revenge; that, like the grace
Of God, revenge had saved her; that in it
Spain must have her salvation; and henceforth
That passion, thus sublimed and sanctified,
Must be to all the loyal sons of Spain
The pole star oftheir faith, their rule and rite,
Observances and worthiest sacrifice.
I took the vow, unworthy as I am,
Her first sworn follower in the appointed rule;
And then we parted: She among the bills
To rouse the vassals ofher father's house:
I at her bidding hitherward, to ask
Thy counsel, who ofour old Baronage
Shall place upon his browthe Spanish crown.
The Lady Adosinda? Odoar cried.
Roderick made answer, So she call'd herself
 33
Oh none but she! exclaim'd the good old man,
Clasping his hands, which trembled as he spake,
In act ofpious passion raised to Heaven, ..
Oh none but Adosinda! .. none but she,
None but that noble heart, which was the heart
Of Auria while it stood, its life and strength,
More than her father's presence, or the arm
Ofher brave Lord, all valiant as he was.
Hers was the spirit which inspired old age,
Ambitious boyhood, girls in timid youth,
And virgins in the beauty of their spring,
And youthful mothers, doting like herself
With ever-anxious love: She breathed through all
That zeal and that devoted faithfulness,
Which to the invader's threats and promises
Turn'd a deaf ear alike; which in the head
And flood ofprosperous fortune check'd his course,
Repell'd him from the walls; and when at length
His overpowering numbers forced their way,
Even in that uttermost extremity
Unyielding, still from street to street, from house
To house, from floorto floor, maintain'd the fight;
Till bytheir altars falling, in their doors,
And on their household hearths, and by their beds
And cradles, and their fathers' sepulchres,
This noble army, gloriously revenged,
Embraced their martyrdom. Heroic souls!
Well have ye done, and righteously discharged
Your arduous part! Your service is perform'd,
Your earthly warfare done! Ye have put on
The purple robe of everlasting peace!
Ye have received your crown! Ye bear the palm
Before the throne of Grace!
With that he paused,
Checking the strong emotions of his soul.
Then with a solemn tone addressing him
Who shared his secretthoughts, Thou know'st, he said
O Urban, that they have not fall'n in vain;
For by this virtuous sacrifice they thinn'd
B2
 34
Alcaman's thousands, and his broken force,
Exhausted by their dear-bought victory,
Turn'd backfrom Auria, leaving us to breathe
Among our mountains yet. We lack not here
Good hearts, nor valiant hands. What walls or towers
Or battlements are like these fastnesses,
These rocks and glens and everlasting hills?
Give but that Aurian spirit, and the Moors
Will spend their force as idly on these holds,
As round the rocky girdle ofthe land
The wild Cantabrian billows waste their rage.
Give but that spirit? .. Heaven hath given it us
If Adosinda thus, as from the dead,
Be granted to our prayers!
And who art thou,
Said Urban, who hast taken on thyself
This rule of warlike faith? Thy countenance
And those poor weeds bespeak a life ere this
Devoted to austere observances.
Roderick replied, I am a sinful man,
One who in solitude hath long deplored
A life mis-spent; but never bound by vows,
Till Adosinda taught me where to find
Comfort, and how to work forgiveness out.
When that exalted woman took my vow
She call'd me Maceabee; from this day forth
Be that my earthly name. But tell me now,
Whom shall we rouse to take upon his head
The crown of Spain? Where are the Gothic Chiefs,
Sacaru, Theudemir, Athanagild,
All who survived that eight days obstinate fight,
When clogg'd with bodies Chrysus scarce could forcé
Its bloody stream along? Witiza's sons,
Bad offspring of a stock accurst, I know,
Have put the turban on their recreant heads.
Where are your own Cantabrian Lords? I ween,
Eudon and Pedro, and Pelayo now
Have ceased their rivalry. IfPelayo live,
 35
His were the worthy heart and rightful hand
To wield the sceptre and the sword of Spain.
Odoar and Urban eyed him while he spake,
As ifthey wonder'd whose the tongue might be
Familiar thus with Chiefs and thoughts of state.
'They scann'd his countenance, but not a trace
Betray'd the royal Goth: sunk was that eye
Of sovereignty; and on the emaciate cheek
Had penitence and anguish deeply drawn
Their furrows premature, .. forestalling time,
And shedding upon thirty's brow more snows
Than threescore winters in their natural course
Might else have sprinkled there. It seems indeed
That thou hast past thy days in solitude,
Replied the Abbot, or thou wouldst not ask
Ofthings so long gone by. Athanagild
And Theudemir bave taken on their necks
The yoke. Sacaru play'd a nobler part.
Long within Merida did he withstand
The invader's hot assault; and when at length,
Hopeless ofall relief, he yielded up
The gates, disdaining in his father's land
19 To breathe the air of bondage, with a few
Found faithful to the last, indignantly
Did he toward the ocean bend his way,
And shaking from his feet the dust of Spain,
Took ship, and hoisted sail through seas unknown
To seek for freedom. Our Cantabrian Chiefs
All have submitted, but the wary Moor
Trusteth not all alike: At his own Court
He holds Pelayo, as suspecting most
That calm and manly spirit; Pedro's son
There too is held as hostage, and secures
His father's faith; Count Eudon is despised,
And so lives unmolested. When he pays
His tribute, an uncomfortable thought
May then perhaps disturb him: .. or more like
He meditates how profitable 'twere
To be a Moor; and ifapostacy
 36
Were all, and to be unbaptized might serve, ..
1 But I waste breath upon a wretch like this;
Pelayo is the only hope of Spain,
Only Pelayo.
If, as we believe,
Said Urban then, the hand of Heaven is here,
And dreadful though they be, yet for wise end
Ofgood, these visitations do its work;
All dimly as our mortal sight may scan
The future, yet methinks my soul deseries
How in Pelayo should the purposes
Of Heaven be best accomplish'd. All too long,
20 Hereintheir own inheritance, the sons
Of Spain have groan'd beneath a foreign yoke,
Punic and Roman, Kelt, and Goth, and Greek:
This latter tempest comes to sweep away
All proud distinctions which commingling blood
And time's long course have fail'd to efface; and now
Perchance it is the will of Fate to rear
Upon the soil of Spain a Spanish throne,
Restoring in Pelayo's native line
The sceptre to the Spaniard.
Go thou then,
And seek Pelayo at the Conqueror's court.
Tell him the mountaineers are unsubdued;
The precious time they needed hath been gain'd
By Auria's sacrifice, and all they ask
Is him to guide them on. In Odoar's name
And Urban's, tell him that the hour is come.
Then pausing for a moment, he pursued,
The rule which thou hast taken on thyself
Toledo ratifies: 'tis meet for Spain,
And as the will divine, to be received,
Observed, and spread abroad. Come hither thou,
Who for thyselfhast chosen the good part;
Let me lay hands onthee, and consecrate
Thy life unto the Lord.
 37
Me! Roderick cried;
Me? sinner that I am!. and while he spake
His wither'd cheek grew paler, and his limbs
Shook. As thou goest among the infidels,
Pursued the Primate, many thou wilt find
Fall'n from the faith; by weakness some betray'd,
Some led astray by baser hope ofgain,
And haply too by ill example led
Of those in whom they trusted. Yet have these
Their lonely hours, when sorrow, or the touch
Of sickness, and that awful power divine
Which hath its dwelling in the heart of man,
Life ofhis soul, his monitor and judge,
Move them with silent impulse; but they look
For help, and finding none to succour them,
The irrevocable moment passeth by.
Therefore, my brother, in the name of Christ
Thus I lay hands on thee, that in His name
Thou with His gracious promises may'st raise
The fall'n, and comfort those that are in need,
And bring salvation to the penitent. N
Now, brother, go thy way: the peace of God
Be with thee, and his blessing prosper us!
Roderich & Siverian.

V..

BETWEEN St. Felix and the regal seat

Of Abdalazis, ancient Cordoba,
Lay many a long day's journey interposed;
And many a mountain range hath Roderick crost,
And many a lovely vale, ere he beheld
Where Betis, winding through the unbounded plain,
Roll'd his majestic waters. There at eve
Entering an inn, he took his humble seat
With other travellers round the crackling hearth,
Where heath and cistus gave their fragrant flame.
That flame no longer, as in other times,
Lit up the countenance ofeasy mirth
And light discourse: the talk which now went round
Was ofthe grief that prest on every heart;
Of Spain subdued; the sceptre ofthe Goths
Broken; their nation and their name effaced;
Slaughter and mourning, which had left no house
Unvisited, and shame, which set its mark
On every Spaniard's face. One who had seen
His sons fall bravely at his side, bewail'd
The unhappy chance which, rescuing him from death,
Left him the last ofall his family;
Yet he rejoiced to think that none who drew
Theirblood from him remain'd to wear the yoke,
Be at the miscreants' beck, and propagate
A breed of slaves to serve them. Here sate one
Who told offair possessions lost, and babes
To goodly fortunes born, of all bereft.
Another for a virgin daughter mourn'd,
The lewd barbarian's spoil. A fourth had seen
 39
His only child forsake him in his age,
And for a Moor renounce her hope in Christ.
His was the heaviest grief of all, he said;
And clenching as he spake his hoary locks,
He cursed King Roderick's soul.
Oh curse him not!
Roderick exclaim'd, all shuddering as he spake.
Oh, for the love ofJesus, curse him not!
Sufficient is the dreadful load ofguilt
Which lies upon his miserable soul!
Obrother, do not curse that sinful soul,
Which Jesus suffer'd on the cross to save!
But then an old man, who had sate thus long
A silent listener, from his seat arose,
And moving round to Roderick took his hand;
Christ bless thee, brother, for that christian speech!
He said; and shame on me that any tongue
Readier than mine was found to utter it!
His own emotion fill'd him while he spake,
So that he did not feel how Roderick's hand
Shook like a palsied limb; and none could see
How at his well-known voice, the countenance
Ofthat poor traveller suddenly was changed,
And sunk with deadlier paleness; forthe flame
Was spent, and from behind him, on the wall
High hung, the lamp with feeble glimmering play'd.
Oh it is ever thus! the old man pursued,
The crimes and woes of universal Spain
Are charged on him; and curses which should aim
Atliving heads, pursue beyond the grave
His poor unhappy soul! As if his sin
Had wrought the fall ofour old monarchy!
Asifthe Musslemen in their career
Would ne'er have overleapt the gulph which parts
Iberia from the Mauritanian shore,
IfJulian had not beckon'd them! Alas!
The evils which drew on our overthrow,
 40
Would soon by other means have wrought their end,
Though Julian's daughter should have lived and died
A virgin vow'd and veil'd.
Touch not on that!
Shrinking with inward shiverings at the thought,
The penitent exclaim'd. Oh, ifthou lov'st
The soul of Roderick, touch not on that deed!
God in his mercy may forgive it him,
But human tongue must never speak his name
Without reproach and utter infamy,
For that abhorred act. Even thou ... But here
Siverian taking up the word, broke off
Unwittingly the incautious speech. Even I,
Quoth he, who nurst him in his father's hall,
Even I can only for that deed of shame
Offer in agony my secret prayers.
But Spain hath witnessed other crimes as foul:
21 Have we not seen Favila's shameless wife,
Throned in Witiza's ivory car, parade
Our towns with regal pageantry, and bid
The murderous tyrant in her husband's blood
Dip his adulterous hand? Did we not see
Pelayo, by that bloody king's pursuit,
And that unnatural mother, from the land
With open outery, like an outlaw'd thief,
Hunted? And saw ye not Theodofred,
As through the streets I guided his dark steps,
Roll mournfully toward the noon-day sun
His blank and senseless eye-balls? Spain saw this,
And suffer'd it.... I seek not to excuse
The sin of Roderick. Jesu, who beholds
The burning tears I shed in solitude,
Knows how I plead for him in midnight prayer.
But if, when he victoriously revenged
The wrongs of Chindasuintho's house, his sword
Had not for mercy turn'd aside its edge,
Oh what a day of glory had there been
Upon the banks of Chrysus! Curse not him,
Who in that fatal conflict to the last
So valiantly maintained his country's cause;
 41

But ifyour sorrow needs must have its vent

In curses, let your imprecations strike
The caitiffs, who, when Roderick's horned helm
Rose eminent amid the thickest fight,
Betraying him who spared and trusted them,
Forsook their King, their Country, and their God,
And gave the Moorhis conquest.
Aye! they said,
These were Witiza's hateful progeny;
And in an evil hour the unhappy King
Had spared the viperous brood. With that they talk'd
How Sisibert and Ebba through the land
Guided the foe; and Orpas, who had cast
The mitre from his renegado brow,
Went with the armies ofthe infidels;
And how in Hispalis, even where his hands
Had minister'd so oft the bread oflife,
The circumcised apostate did not shame
To shew in open day his turban'd head...
The Queen too, Egilona, one exclaim'd; 22
Was she not married to the Enemy.
The Moor, the Misbeliever? What a soul
Were hers, that she could pride and plume herself
To rank among his herd ofconcubines,
Having been what she had been! And who could say
How far domestic wrongs and discontent
Had wrought upon the King! ... At this the old man,
Raising beneath the knitand curly brow
His mournful eyes, replied, This I can tell,
That that unquiet spirit and unblest,
Though Roderick never told his sorrows, drove
Rusilla from the palace ofher son.
She could not bear to see his generous mind
Witherbeneath the unwholesome influence,
And cankering at the core. And I know well,
That oft when she deplored his barren bed,
The thought ofEgilona's qualities
Came like a bitter medicine to her grief,
And to the extinction of her husband's line,
Sad consolation, reconciled her heart.
 42

But Roderick while they communed thus, had ceased

To hear, such painfullest anxiety
The sight ofthat old venerable man
Awoke. A sickening fear came over him:
The hope which led him from his hermitage
Now seem'd for ever gone; for well he knew
Nothing but death could break the ties which bound
That faithful servant to his father's house.
She, then, for whose forgiveness he had yearn'd,
Who in her blessing would have given and found
The peace of Heaven, .. she, then, was to the grave
Gone down disconsolate at last: in this
Ofall the woes ofher unhappy life
Unhappiest, that she did not live to see
God had vouchsafed repentance to her child.
But then a hope arose that yet she lived;
The weighty cause which led Siverian here
Might draw himfrom her side: better to know
'
The worst than fear it. And with that he bent
Over the embers, and with head half-raised
Aslant, and shadow'd by his hand, he said,
Where is King Roderick's mother? lives she still?
God hath upheld her, the old man replied;
She bears this last and heaviest ofher griefs,
Not as she bore her husband's wrongs, when hope
And her indignant heart supported her;
But patiently, like one who finds from Heaven airing.
A comfort which the world can neither give
Nor take away....Roderick enquired no more;
He breathed a silent prayer in gratitude,
Then wrapt his cloak around him, and lay down
Where he might weep unseen.
When morning came,
Earliest ofall the travellers he went forth,
And linger'd for Siverian by the way,
Beside a fountain, where the constantfall
Ofwater its perpetual gurgling made,
To the wayfaring or the musing man
Sweetest ofall sweet sounds. The Christian hand,
 43

Whose general charity for man and beastat

Built it in better times, had with a cross
Ofwell-hewn stone crested the pious work,
Which now the misbelievers had cast down,
And broken in the dust it lay defiled.
Roderick beheld it lying at his feet,
And gathering reverently the fragments up
Placed them within the cistern, and restored
With careful collocation its dear form, ..
So might the waters, like a crystal shrine,
Preserve it from pollution. Kneeling then,
O'er the memorial of redeeming love
He bent, and mingled with the fount his tears,
And pour'd his spirit to the Crucified.
A Moor came by, and seeing him, exclaim'd,
Ah Kaffer! worshipper of wood and stone,
God's curse confound thee! And as Roderick turn'd
His face, the miscreant spurn'd him with his foot
Between the eyes. The indignant King arose,
And fell'd him to the earth. But then the Moor
Drew forth his dagger, rising as he cried,
What, darest thou, thou infidel and slave,
Strike a believer? and he aim'd a blow
At Roderick's breast. But Roderick caught his arm,
And closed, and wrench'd the dagger from his hold, ..
Such timely strength did those emaciate limbs
From indignation draw, .. and in his neck
With mortal stroke he drove the avenging steel
Hilt deep. Then, as the thirsty sand drank in
The expiring miscreant's blood, he look'd around
· In sudden apprehension, lest the Moors ·
Had seen them: but Siverian was in sight,
The only traveller, and he smote his mule
And hasten'd up. Ah, brother! said the old man,
Thine is a spirit ofthe ancient mould!
And would to God a thousand men like thee
Had fought at Roderick's side on that last day
When treason overpowered him! Now, alas!
A manly Gothic heart doth ill accord
 4..4
With these unhappy times. Come, let us hide
This carrion, while the favouring hour permits.
So saying he alighted. Soon they scoop'd
Amid loose-lying sand a hasty grave,
And levell'd over it the easy soil.
Father, said Roderick, as they journey'd on,
Let this thing be a seal and sacrament
Of truth between us: Wherefore should there be
Concealment between two right Gothic hearts
In evil days like these? What thou hast seen
Is but the first fruit of the sacrifice,
Which on this injured and polluted soil,
As on a bloody altar, I have sworn
To offer to insulted Heaven for Spain,
Her vengeance and her expiation. This
Was but a hasty act, by sudden wrong
Provoked: but I am bound for Cordoba,
On weighty mission from Visonia sent,
To breathe into Pelayo's ear a voice
Of spirit-stirring power, which, like the trump
Ofthe Arch-angel, shall awake dead Spain.
The northern mountaineers are unsubdued;
They call upon Pelayo for their chief;
Odoar and Urban tell him that the hour
Is come. Thou too, I ween, old man, art charged
With no light errand, or thou wouldst not now
Have left the ruins ofthy master's house.
Who art thou? cried Siverian, as he search'd
The wan and wither'd features ofthe King.
The face is of a stranger, but thy voice
Disturbs me like a dream.
Roderick replied,
Thou seest me as I am, .. a stranger; one
Whose fortunes in the general wreck were lost,
His name and lineage utterly extinct,
Himselfin mercy spared, surviving all; .
In mercy, that the bitter cup might heal
A soul diseased. Now, having cast the slough
 45
Ofold offences, thou beholdest me
A man new-born; in second baptism nameel,
Like those who in Judæa bravely raised
Against the Heathen's impious tyranny
The banner ofJehovah, Maccabee:
So call me. In that name bath Urban laid
His consecrating hands upon my head;
And in that name have I myself for Spain
Devoted. Tell me now why thou art sent
To Cordoba; for sure thou goest not
An idle gazer to the Conqueror's court.
Thou judgest well, the old man replied. I too
Seek the Cantabrian Prince, the hope of Spain,
With other tidings charged, for other end
Design'd, yet such as well may work with thine.
My noble Mistress sends me to avert
The shame that threats his house. The renegade
Numacian, he who for the infidels
Oppresses Gegio, insolently woos
His sister. Moulded in a wicked womb,
The unworthy Guisla hath inherited
Her mother's leprous taint; and willingly
She to the circumcised and upstart slave,
Disdaining all admonishment, gives ear.
The Lady Gaudiosa sees in this,
Withthe quick foresight ofmaternal care,
The impending danger to her husband's house,
Knowing his generous spirit ne'er will brook
The base alliance. Guisla lewdly sets
His will at nought; but that vile renegade,
From hatred, and from avarice, and from fear,
Will seek the extinction of Pelayo's line.
This too my venerable Mistress sees;
Wherefore these valiant and high-minded dames
Send me to Cordoba; that ifthe Prince
Cannot by timely interdiction stop
The irrevocable act of infamy,
He may at least to his own safety look,
Being timely warn'd.
 46
Thy Mistress sojourns then
With Gaudiosa, in Pelayo's hall?
Said Roderick. 'Tis her natural home, rejoined
Siverian: Chindasuintho's royal race
Have ever shared one lot of weal or woe;
And she who hath beheld her own fair shoot,
The goodly summit of that ancient tree,
Struck by Heaven's bolt, seeks shelter now beneath
The only branch ofits majestic stem
That still survives the storm.
Thus they pursued
Their journey, each from other gathering store
For thought, with many a silent interval
Of mournful meditation, till they saw
The temples and the towers ofCordoba
Shining majestic in the light of eve.
Before them Betis roll'd his glittering stream,
In many a silvery winding traced afar
Amid the ample plain. Behind the walls
And stately piles which crown'd its margin, rich
With olives, and with sunny slope of vines,
And many a lovely hamlet interspersed,
Whose citron bowers were once the abode of peace,
Height above height, receding hills were seen
Imbued with evening hues; and over all
The summits ofthe dark sierra rose,
Lifting their heads amid the silent sky.
The traveller who with a heart at ease
Had seen the goodly vision, would have loved
To linger, seeking with insatiate sight
To treasure up its image, deep impress'd,
A joy for years to come. O Cordoba,
Exclaim'd the old man, how princely are thy towers,
How fair thy vales, thy hills howbeautiful! et
The sun who sheds on thee his parting smiles
Sees not in all his wide career a scene bank
Lovelier, nor more exuberantly blest
By bounteous earth and Heaven. The very gales
OfEden waft not from the immortal bowers
Odours to sense more exquisite, than these
Which, breathing fromthy groves and gardens, now
 47
Recall in me such thoughts ofbitterness.
The time has been when happy was their lot
Who had their birthright here; but happy now
Arethey who to thy bosom are gone home,
Because they feel not in their graves the feet
That trample upon Spain. 'Tis well that age
Hath made me like a child, that I can weep;
My heart would else have broken, overcharged,
And I, false servant, should lie down to rest
Before my work is done.
Hard by their path,
A little way without the walls, there stood
An edifice, whereto, as by a spell,
Siverian's heart was drawn. Brother, quoth he,
'Tis like the urgency of our return
Will brook ofno retardment; and this spot
It were a sin if I should pass, and leave
Unvisited. Beseech you turn with me,
Just while I offer up one duteous prayer.
-Roderick made no reply. He had not dared
To turn his face towards those walls; but now
He follow'd where the old man led the way.
Lord! in his heart the silent sufferer said,
Forgive my feeble soul, which would have shrunk
From this, .. for what am I that I should put
The bitter cup aside! Oh let my shame
And anguish be accepted in thy sight!

done and to be et
Roderick in times past-

VI.

TH HE mansion whitherward they went, was one

Whichin his youth Theodofred had built:
Thither had he brought home in happy hour
His blooming bride; there fondled on his knee
The lovely boy she bore him. Close beside,
A temple to that Saint he rear'd, who first,
As old tradition tells, proclaim'd to Spain
The gospel-tidings; and in health and youth,
There mindful ofmortality, he saw
His sepulchre prepared. Witiza seized
For his adulterous leman and himself
The stately pile: but to that sepulchre,
When from captivity and darkness death
Enlarged him, was Theodofred consign'd;
For that unhappy woman, wasting then
Beneath a mortal malady, at heart
Was smitten, and the Tyrant at her prayer
This poor and tardy restitution made.
Soon the repentant sinner follow'd him;
And calling on Pelayo ere she died
For his own wrongs, and for his father's death,
Implored forgiveness of her absent child,.
Ifit were possible he could forgive
Crimes black as hers, she said. And by the pangs
Of her remorse, .. by her last agonies, ..
The unutterable horrors ofher death,
And by the blood ofJesus on the cross
For sinners given, did she beseech his prayers
In aid ofher most miserable soul.
Thus mingling sudden shrieks with hopeless vows,
 49
And uttering franticly Pelayo's name,
And crying out for mercy in despair,
Here had she made her dreadful end, and here
Her wretched body was deposited.
That presence seem'd to desecrate the place:
Thenceforth the usurper shunn'd it with the heart
Of conscious guilt nor could Rusilla bear
These groves and bowers, which, like funereal shades,
Opprest her with their monumental forms:
One day ofbitter and severe delight, 23.
When Roderick came for vengeance, she endured,
And then for ever left her bridal halls.
Oh when I last beheld yon princely pile,
Exclaim'd Siverian, with what other thoughts
Full, and elate of spirit, did I pass
Itsjoyous gates! The weedery which through
The interstices of those neglected courts
Uncheck'd had flourish'd long, and seeded there,
Was trampled now and bruised beneath the feet
Ofthronging crowds. Here drawn in fair array,
The faithful vassals of my master's house,
Theirjavelins sparkling to the morning sun,
Spread their triumphant banners; high-plumed helms
Rose o'er the martial ranks, and prancing steeds
Made answer to the trumpet's stirring voice;
While yonder towers shook the dull silence off
Which long to their deserted walls had clung,
And with redoubling echoes swell'd the shout
That hail'd victorious Roderick. Louder rose
The acclamation, when the dust was seen
Rising beneath his chariot-wheels far off;
But nearer as the youthful hero came,
All sounds of all the multitude were hush'd,
And from the thousands and ten thousands here,
Whom Cordoba and Hispalis sent forth, ..
Yea whom all Bætica, all Spain pour'd out
To greet his triumph, ... not a whisper roses
To Heaven, such awe and reverence master'd them,
Such expectation held them motionless.
C
 50
Conqueror and King he came; but with nojoy
Of conquest, and no pride of sovereignty
That day display'd; for at his father's grave
Did Roderick come to offer up his vow
of vengeance well perform'd. Three coal-black steeds
Drew on his ivory chariot: by his side,
Still wrapt in mourning for the long-deceased,
Rusilla sate; a deeper paleness blanch'd
Her faded countenance, but in her eye
The light ofher majestic nature shone.
Bound, and expecting at their hands the death
So well deserved, the Tyrant followed them;
Aghast and trembling, first he gazed around,
Wildly, from side to side; then from the face
Of universal execration shrunk,
Hanging his wretched head abased; and poor
Ofspirit, with unmanly tears deplored
'His fortune, not his crimes. With bolder front,
Confiding in his priestly character,
Came Orpas next: and then the spurious race
Whom in unhappy hour Favila's wife
Brought forth for Spain. O mercy ill bestow'd,
When Roderick, in compassion for theiryouth,
And for Pelayo's sake, forbore to crush
The brood of vipers!
Err perchance he might,
Replied the Goth, suppressing as he spake
All outward signs of pain, though every word
Went like a dagger to his bleeding heart; ..
But sure, I ween, that error is not placed
Among his sins. Old man, thou may'st regret
The mercy ill deserved, and worse return'd,
But not for this wouldst thou reproach the King!
Reproach him? cried Siverian; .. I reproach
My child, .. my noble boy, .. whom every tongue
Blest at that hour,.. whose love fill'd every heart
With joy, and every eye with joyful tears!
My brave, my beautiful, my generous boy!
Brave, beautiful, and generous as he was,
 51
Never so brave, so beautiful, so great
As then,.. not even on that glorious day,
When on the field ofvictory, elevate
Amid the thousands who acclaim'd him King,
Firm on the shield, above their heads upraised,
Erect he stood, and waved his bloody sword...
Why dost thou shake thy head as if in doubt?
I do not dream, nor fable! Ten short years
Have scarcely past away, since all within
The Pyrenean hills, and the three seas
Which girdle Spain, echoed in one response
Theacclamation from that field offight...
Or doth aught ail thee, that thy body quakes
And shudders thus?
'Tis but a chill, replied
The King, in passing from the open air
Under the shadow of this thick-set grove.
Oh! ifthis scene awoke in thee such thoughts
As swell my bosom here, the old man pursued,
Sunshine, or shade, and all things from without,
Would be alike indifferent. Gracious God,
Only but ten short years, .. and all so changed!
Ten little years since in yon court he check'd
His fiery steeds. The steeds obey'd his hand,
The whirling wheels stood still, and when he leapt
Upon the pavement, the whole people heard,
In their deep silence, open-ear'd, the sound.
With slower movement from the ivory seat
Rusilla rose, her arm, as down she stept,
Extended to her son's supporting hand;
Not for default offirm or agile strength,
But that the feeling ofthat solemn hour
Subdued her then, and tears bedimm'd her sight.
Howbeit when to her husband's grave she came,
On the sepulchral stone she bow'd her head
Awhile; then rose collectedly, and fix'd
Upon the scene her calm and steady eye.
Roderick,..oh when did valour wear a form
So beautiful, so noble, so august?
 52
Or vengeance, when did it put on before
A character so awful, so divine?
Roderick stood up, and reaching to the tomb
His hands, my hero cried, Theodofred!
Father! I stand before thee once again,
According to thy prayer, when kneeling down
Between thy knees I took my last farewell;
And vow'd by all thy sufferings, all thy wrongs,
And by my mother's days and nights of woe,
Her silent anguish, and the griefwhich then
Even from thee she did not seek to hide,
That ifour cruel parting should avail
To save me from the Tyrant's jealous guilt,
Surely should my avenging sword fulfil
Whate'er he omen'd. Oh that time, I cried,
Would give the strength of manhood to this arm,
Already would it find a manly heart
To guide it to its purpose? And I swore
Never again to see my father's face,
Nor ask my mother's blessing, till I brought,
Dead or in chains, the Tyrant to thy feet.
Boy as I was, before all saints in Heaven,
And highest God, whose justice slumbereth not,
I made the vow According to thy prayer,
In all things, O my father, is that vow
Perform'd, alas too well! for thou didst pray,
While looking up I felt the burning tears
Which from thy sightless sockets stream'd, drop
down, ..
That to thy grave, and not thy living feet,
The oppressor might be led. Behold himthere,..
Father! Theodofred! no longer now
In darkness, from thy heavenly seat look down,
And see before thy grave thine enemy
In bonds, awaiting judgment at my hand!
Thus while the hero spake, Witiza stood ha
Listening in agony, with open mouth,
And head, half-raised, toward bis sentence turn'd;
His eye-lids stiffen'd and pursed up, .. his eyes
 53

Rigid, and wild, and wide; and when the King

Had ceased, amid the silence which ensued,
The 'dastard's chains were heard, link against link
Clinking. At length upon his knees he fell,
And lifting up his trembling hands, outstretch'd
In supplication, .. Mercy! he exclaim'd, ..
Chains, dungeons, darkness, .. any thing but death! ..
I did not touch his life.
Roderick replied,
His hour, whenever it had come, had found
A soul prepared: he lived in peace with Heaven,
And life prolong'd for him, was bliss delay'd.
But life, in pain and darkness and despair,
For thee, all leprous as thou art with crimes,
Is mercy ... Take him hence, and let him see
The light of day no more!
Such Roderick was
When last I saw these courts, .. his theatre
Ofglory;.. such when last I visited
My master's grave! Ten years have hardly held
Their course, .. ten little years .. break, break, old
heart ..
Oh why art thou so tough!
As thus he spake
They reach'd the church. The door before his hand
Gave way; both blinded with their tears, they went
Straight to the tomb; and there Siverian knelt,
And bow'd his face upon the sepulchre,
Weeping aloud; while Roderick, overpower'd,
And calling upon earth to cover him,
Threw himself prostrate on his father's grave.
Thus as they lay, an awful voice in tones
Severe address'd them. Who are ye, it said,
That with your passion thus, and on this night
Disturb my prayers? .. Starting they rose: there stood
A man before them ofmajestic form
And stature, clad in sackcloth, bare offoot,
Pale,and in tears, with astres on his head.
Roderick &Pelago.

VII.

'TvWAS not in vain that on her absent son,

Pelayo's mother, from the bed ofdeath,
Call'd for forgiveness, and in agony
Besought his prayers; all guilty as she was,
Sure he had not been human, ifthat cry
Had fail'd to pierce him. When he heard the tale,
He blest the messenger, even while his speech
Was faltering,.. while from head to foot he shook,
With icy feelings from his inmost heart
Effused. It changed the nature of his woe,
Making the burthen more endurable:
The life-long sorrow that remain'd, became
A healing and a chastening grief, and brought
His soul, in close communion, nearer Heaven.
For he had been her first-born, and the love
Which at her breast he drew, and from her smiles,
And from her voice oftenderness imbibed,
Gave such unnatural horror to her crimes,
That when the thought came over him, it seem'd
As ifthe milk which with his infant life
Had blended, thrill'd like poison through his frame.
It was a woe beyond all reach ofhope,
Till with the dreadful tale ofher remorse
Faith touch'd his heart; and everfrom that day
Did he for her who bore him, night and morn,
Pour out the anguish ofhis soul in prayer:
But chiefly as the night return'd, which heard
Her last expiring groans of penitence,
Then through the long and painful hours, before
The altar, like a penitent himself,
He kept his vigils; and when Roderick's sword
 55
Subdued Witiza, and the land was free,
Duly upon her grave he offer'd up
His yearly sacrifice of agony
And prayer. This was the night, and he it was,
Who now before Siverian and the King
Stood up in sackcloth.
The old man, from fear
Recovering, and from wonder, knew him first.
It is the Prince! he cried; and bending down
Embraced his knees. The action and the word
Awaken'd Roderick; he shook offthe load
Of struggling thoughts, which, pressing on his heart,
Held him like one entranced; yet, all untaught
To bend before the face of man, confused
Awhile he stood, forgetful of his part.
But when Siverian cried, My Lord, my Lord,
Now God he praised that I have found thee thus,
My Lord and Prince, Spain's only hope and mine!
Then Roderick, echoing him, exclaim'd, My Lord
And Prince, Pelayo! .. and approaching near,
He bent his knee obeisant: but his head
Earthward inclined: while the old man, looking up
From his low gesture to Pelayo's face,
Wept at beholding him for grief and joy.
Siverian! cried the Chief,.. of whom hath Death
Bereaved me, that thou comest to Cordoba? ..
Children, or wife?.. Or hath the merciless scythe
Of this abhorr❜d and jealous tyranny
Made my house desolate at one wide sweep?
They are as thou couldst wish, the old man replied,
Wert thou but lord ofthine own house again,
And Spain were Spain once more. A tale ofill
I bear, but one which touches not the heart
Likewhat thy fears forebode. The renegade
Numacian woos thy sister, and she lends
To the vile slave, unworthily, ber ear:
The Lady Gaudiosa hath in vain
Warn'd her ofallthe evils which await
 56
A union thus aecurst; she sets at nought
Her faith, her lineage, and thy certain wrath.
Pelayo hearing him, remain'd awhile
Silent; then turning to his mother's grave,..
O thou poor dust, hath then the infectious taint
Survived thy dread remorse, that it should run
In Guisla's veins? he cried; .. I should have heard
This shameful sorrow any where but here! ..
Humble thyself, proud heart; .. thou, gracious Heaven,
Be merciful! .. it is the original flaw, ..
And what are we?..a weak unhappy race,
Born to our sad inheritance ofsin
And death!..He smote his forehead as he spake,
And from his head the ashes fell, like snow
Shaken from some dry beech leaves, when a bird
Lights on the bending spray. A little while
In silence, rather than in thought, he stood
Passive beneath the sorrow: turning then,
And what doth Gaudiosa counsel me?
He ask'd the old man; for she hath ever been
My wise and faithful counsellor...He replied,
The Lady Gaudiosa bade me say
She sees the danger which on every part
Besets her husband's house... Here she had ceased:
But when my noble mistress gave in charge,
How I should tell thee that in evil times
The bravest counsels ever are the best;
Then that high-minded Lady thus rejoin'd,
Whatever be my Lord's resolve, he knows
I bear a mind prepared.
Brave spirits! cried.
Pelayo, worthy to remove all stain
Of weakness from their sex! I should be less
Than man, if, drawing strength where others find
Their hearts most open to assault offear,
I quail'd at danger. Never be it said
OfSpain, that in the hour ofher distress
Her women were as heroes, but hermen
Perform'd the woman's part!
 57
Roderick at that
Look'd up, and taking up the word, exclaim'd,
O Prince, in better days the pride of Spain,
And, prostrate as she lies, her surest hope,
Hear now my tale. The fire which seem'd extinct
Hath risen revigorate: a living spark
From Auria's ashes, by a woman's hand
Preserved and quicken'd, kindles far and wide
The beacon-flame o'er all the Asturian hills.
There hath a vow been offer'd up, which binds
Us and our children's children to the work
Of holy hatred. In the name of Spain
That vow hath been pronounced, and register'd
Above, to be the bond whereby we stand
For condemnation or acceptance. Heaven
Received the irrevocable vow, and Earth
Must witness is fulfilment; Earth and Heaven
Call upon thee, Pelayo! Upon thee
The spirits of thy royal ancestors
Look down expectant; unto thee, from fields
Laid waste, and hamlets burnt, and cities sack'd,
The blood ofinfancy and helpless age
Cries out; thy native mountains call for thee,
Echoing from all their armed sons thy name.
And deem not thou that hot impatience goads
Thy countrymen to counsels immature:
Odoar and Urban from Visonia's banks
Send me, their sworn and trusted messenger,
To summon thee, and tell thee in their name
That now the hour is come: For sure it seems,
Thus saith the Primate, Heaven's high will to rear
Upon the soil of Spain a Spanish throne,
Restoring in thy native line, O Prince, 24
The sceptreto the Spaniard. Worthy son
Of that most ancient and heroic race,
Which with unweariable endurance still
Hath striven against its mightier enemies,
Roman or Carthaginian, Greek or Goth;
So often by superior arms opprest,
More often bysuperior arts beguiled;
C2
 58
Yet amid all its sufferings, all the waste
Ofsword and fire remorselessly employed,
Unconquer'd and unconquerable still; ..
Son ofthat injured and illustrious stock
Stand forward thou; draw forth the sword of Spain,
Restore them to their rights, too long withheld,
And place upon thy brow the Spanish crown.
When Roderick ceased, the princely mountaineer
Gazed on the passionate orator awhile,
With eyes intently fix'd, and thoughtful brow;
Then turning to the altar, he let fall
The sackcloth robe, which late with folded arms
Against his heart was prest; and stretching forth
His hands toward the crucifix, exclaim'd,
My God and my Redeemer! where but here,
Before thy awful presence, in this garb,
With penitential ashes thus bestrewn,
Could I so fitly answer to the call
25 Of Spain; and for her sake, and in thy name,
Accept the Crown ofThorns she proffers me!
And where but here, said Roderick in his heart,
Could I so properly, with humbled knee
And willing soul, confirm my forfeiture? ..
The action followed on that secret thought:
He knelt, and took Pelayo's hand, and cried,
First of the Spaniards let me with this kiss
Do homage to thee here, my Lord and King!.
With voice unchanged and steady countenance
He spake; but when Siverian follow'd him,
The old man trembled as his lips pronounced
The faltering vow; and rising he exclaim'd,
God grant thee, O my Prince, a better fate
Than thy poor kinsman's, who in happier days
Received thy homage here! .. Griefchoak'd his speech,
And, bursting into tears, he sobb'd aloud.
Tears too adown Pelayo's manly cheek
Roll'd silently. Roderick alone appear'd
Unmoved and calm; for nowthe Royal Goth
 59
Had offer'd his accepted sacrifice,
And therefore in his soul he felt that peace
Whichfollows painful duty well perform'd, ..
Perfect and heavenly peace, .. the peace ofGod.
 Atphonse.

VIII.

FAIN would Pelayo have that hour obey'd

The call, commencing his adventurous flight,
As one whose soul impatiently endured
His country's thraldom, and in daily prayer
Imploring her deliverance, cried to Heaven,
How long, O Lord, how long!. But other thoughts
Curbing his spirit, made him yet awhile
Sustain the weight of bondage. Him alone,
Ofall the Gothic baronage, the Moors
Watch'd with regard of wary policy, ..
Knowing his powerful name, his noble mind,
And how in him the old Iberian blood,
Ofroyal and remotest ancestry,
From undisputed source flow'd undefiled;
His mother's after-guilt attainting not
The claim legitimate he derived from her,
Her first-born in her time of innocence.
He too ofChindasuintho's regal line
Sole remnant now, drew after him the love
Of all true Goths, uniting in himself
Thus by this double right, the general heart
OfSpain. For this the renegado crew,
Wretches in whom their conscious guilt and fear
Engender'd cruellest hatred, still advised
The extinction of Pelayo's house; but most
The apostate Prelate, in iniquity
Witiza's genuine brother as in blood,
Orpas, pursued his life. He never ceased
With buzy zeal, true traitor, to infuse
His deadly rancour in the Moorish chief:
 61
Their only danger, ever he observed,
Was from Pelayo; root his lineage out,
The Caliph's empire then would be secure,
And universal Spain, all hope of change
Being lost, receive the Prophet's conquering law.
Then did the Arch-villain urge the Moor at once
To cut offfuture peril, telling him
Death was a trusty keeper, and that none
E'er broke the prison of the grave. But here
Keen malice overshot its mark: The Moor,
Who from the plunder of their native land
Had bought the recreant crew thatjoin'd his arms,
Or cheaplier with their own possessions bribed
Their sordid souls, saw through the flimsy show
Ofpolicy wherewith they sought to cloak
Old enmity, and selfish aims: he scorn'd
To let their private purposes incline
His counsels, and believing Spain subdued,
Smiled, in the pride of power and victory,
Disdainful at the thought offarther strife.
Howbeit he held Pelayo at his court,
And told him that until his countrymen
Submissively should lay their weapons down,
He from his children and paternal hearth
Apart must dwell; nor hope to see again
His native mountains and their vales beloved,
Till all the Asturian and Cantabrian hills
Hadbow'd before the Caliph; Cordoba
Must be his nightly prison till that hour.
This night, by special favour from the Moor
Ask'd and vouchsafed, he past without the walls,
Keeping his yearly vigil; on this night
Therefore the princely Spaniard could not fly,
Being thus in strongest bonds by honour held.
Nor would he by his own escape expose
To stricter bondage, or belike to death,
Count Pedro's son. The ancient enmity
Ofrival houses from Pelayo's heart
Had, like a thing forgotten, past away:
He pitied child and parent, separated
 62
Bythe stern mandate ofunfeeling power;
And almost with a father's eyes beheld
The boy, his fellow in captivity.
For young Alphonso was in truth an heir
Ofnature's largest patrimony; rich
In form and feature, growing strength of limb,
A gentle heart, a soul affectionate,
Ajoyous spirit fill'd with generous thoughts,
And genius heightening and ennobling all.
The blossom of all manly virtues made
His boyhood beautiful. Shield, gracious Heaven,
In this ungenial season perilous, ..
Thus would Pelayo sometimes breathe in prayer
The aspirations of prophetic hope, ..
Shield, gracious Heaven, the blooming tree! and let
This goodly promise, for thy people's sake,
Yield its abundant fruitage.
When the Prince,
With hope and fear and griefand shame disturb'd,
And sad remembrance, and the shadowy light
Of days before him, thronging as in dreams,
Whose quick succession fill'd and overpower'd
Awhile the unresisting faculty,
Could in the ealm oftroubled thoughts subdued
Seek in his heart for counsel, his first care
Was for the boy; how best they might evade
The Moor, and renegade's more watchful eye;
And leaving in some unsuspicious guise
The city, through what unfrequented track
Safeliest pursue with speed their dangerous way!
Consumed in cares like these, the fleeting hours
Went by. The lamps and tapers now grew pale,
And through the eastern window slanting fell
The roseate ray of morn. Within those walls
Returning day restored no cheerful sounds,
Or joyous motions ofawakening life;
But in the stream oflight the speckled motes,
As ifin mimickry of insect play,
Floated with mazy movement. Sloping down
Over the altar pass'd the pillar'd beam,
 63
And rested on the sinful woman's grave,
As ifit entered there, a light from Heaven.
So be it! cried Pelayo, even so!
As, in a momentary interval,
When thought expelling thought, had left bis mind
Open and passive to the influxes
Ofoutward sense, his vacant eye was there,.
So be it, heavenly Father, even so!
Thus may thy vivifying goodness shed
Forgiveness there; for let not thou the groans
Ofdying penitence, nor my bitter prayers
Before thy mercy-seat, be heard in vain! ..
And thou, poor soul, who from the dolorous house
Ofweeping and ofpain, dost look to me
To shorten and assuage thy penal term,
Pardon me that these hours in other thoughts
And other duties than this garb, this night,
Enjoin, should thus have past! .. Our mother-land
Exacted ofmy heart the sacrifice;
And many a vigil must thy son perform
Henceforth in woods and mountain fastnesses,
And tented fields, outwatching for her sake 26
The starry host, and ready for the work
Ofday, before the sun begins his course.
The noble Mountaineer, concluding then
With silent prayer the service of the night,
Went forth. Without the porch awaiting him
He saw Alphonso, pacing to and fro
With patient step, and eye reverted oft.
He, springing forward when he heard the door
Move on its heavy hinges, ran to him,
And welcomed him with smiles of youthful love.
I have been watching yonder moon, quoth he,
How it grew pale and paler as the sun
Scatter'd the flying shades: but woe is me,
For on the towers of Cordoba the while
That baleful crescent glitter'd in the morn,
And with its insolent triumph seem'd to mock
The omen I had found...Last night I dreamt
 64
That thou wert in the field in arms for Spain,
And I was at thy side: the infidels
Beset us round, but we with our good swords
Hew'd out a way. Methought I stabb'd a Moor
Who would have slain thee; but with that I woke
Forjoy,and wept to find it but a dream.
Thus as he spake a livelier glow o'erspread
His cheek, and starting tears again suffused
The brightening lustre of his eyes. The Prince
Regarded him a moment stedfastly,
As ifin quick resolve; then looking round
On every side with keen and rapid glance,
Drew him within the church. Alphonso's heart
Throbb'd with a joyful boding as he mark'd
The calmness of Pelayo's countenance
Kindle with solemn thoughts, expressing now
High purposes ofresolute hope. He gazed
All eagerly to hear what most he wish'd.
If, said the Prince, thy dream were verified,
And I indeed were in the field in arms
For Spain, .. wouldst thou be at Pelayo's side?
IfI should break these bonds, and fly to rear
Our country's banner on our native hills,
Wouldst thou, Alphonso, share my dangerous flight,
Dear boy, .. and wilt thou take thy lot with me
For death, or for deliverance?
Shall I swear?
Replied the impatient boy; and laying hand
Upon the altar, on his knee he bent,
Looking toward Pelayo with such joy
Ofreverential love, as ifa God
Were present to receive the eager vow.
Nay, quoth Pelayo; what hastthou to do
With oaths?.. Bright emanation as thou art,
It were a wrong to thy unsullied soul,
Asin to nature, were I to require
Promise, or vow fromthee! Enough for me
That thy heart answers to the stirring call.
Alphonso, follow thou, in happy faith,
 65
Alway the indwelling voice that counsels thee;
And then, let fall the issue as it may,
Shall all thy paths be in the light of Heaven,
The peace ofHeaven be with thee in all hours.
How then, exclaim'd the boy, shall I discharge
Theburthen of this happiness, .. how ease
My overflowing soul? .. Oh gracious God,
Shall I behold my mother's face again, ..
My father's hall, .. my native hills and vales,
And hearthe voices oftheir streams again, ..
And free as I was born amid those scenes
Beloved, maintain my country's freedom there, ..
Or, failing in the sacred enterprize,
Die as becomes a Spaniard! ... Saying thus,
He lifted up his hands and eyes toward
The image of the Crucified, and cried,
O thou who didst with thy most precious blood
Redeem us, Jesu! help us while we seek
Earthlyredemption from this yoke ofshame
And misbeliefand death.
The noble boy
Then rose, and would have knelt again to elasp
Pelayo's knees, and kiss his hand in act
Of homage; but the Prince, preventing this,
Bent overhim in fatherly embrace,
And breathed a fervent blessing on his head.
 Florinda.

IX.

THE HERE sate a woman like a supplicant,

Muffled and cloak'd, before Pelayo's gate,
Awaiting when he should return that morn.
She rose at his approach, and bow'd her head,
And, with a low and trembling utterance,
Besought him to vouchsafe her speech within
In privacy. And when they were alone,
And the doors closed, she knelt and claspt his knees,
Saying, A boon! a boon! This night, O Prince,
Hast thou kept vigil for thy mother's soul:
For her soul's sake, and for the soul ofhim
Whom once, in happier days, ofall mankind
Thou heldest for thy chosen bosom friend,
Oh for the sake of his poor suffering soul,
Refuse me not!
How should I dare refuse,
Being thus adjured! he answer'd. Thy request
Is granted, woman, ..be it what it may,
So it be lawful, and within the bounds
Of possible achievement: . . aught unfit
Thou wouldst not with these adjurations seek.
But who thou art, I marvel, that dost touch
Upon that string, and ask in Roderick's name! ..
She bared her face, and, looking up, replied,
Florinda! Shrinking then, with both her hands
She hid herself, and bow'd her head abased
.. one who, if the grave
Upon her knee, ...as
Had oped beneath her, would have thrown herself,
Even like a lover, in the arms of Death.
 67
Pelayo stood confused: he had not seen
CountJulian's daughter since in Roderick's court,
Glittering in beauty and in innocence,
A radiant vision, in her joy she moved:
More like a poet's dream, or form divine,
Heaven's prototype of perfect womanhood,
So lovely was the presence, .. than athing
Ofearth and perishable elements.
Now had he seen her in her winding sheet,
Less painful would that spectacle have proved;
For peace is with the dead, and piety
Bringeth a patient hope to those who mourn
O'er the departed: but this alter'd face,
Bearing its deadly sorrow character'd,
Came to him like a ghost, which in the grave
Could find no rest. He, taking her cold hand,
Raised her, and would have spoken; but his tongue
Fail'd in its office, and could only speak
In under tones compassionate her name.
The voice of pity sooth'd and melted her;
And when the Prince bade her be comforted,
Proffering his zealous aid in whatsoe'er
Might please her to appoint, a feeble smile
Past slowly over her pale countenance,
Like moonlight on a marble statue. Heaven
Requite thee, Prince! she answer'd. All I ask
Is but a quiet resting-place, wherein
Abroken heart, in prayer and humble hope,
May wait for its deliverance. Even this
My most unhappy fate denies me here.
Griefs which are known too widely and too well
Ineed not now remember. I could bear
Privation ofall Christian ordinances;
The woe which kills bath saved me too, and made
A temple of this ruin'd tabernacle,
Wherein redeeming God doth not disdain
Tolet his presence shine. And I could bear
To see the turban on my father's brow, ..
Sorrow beyond all sorrows, .. shame of shames, ..
 68
Yet to be borne, while I with tears ofblood,
And throes of agony, in his behalf
Implore, and wrestle with offended Heaven.
This I have borne resign'd: but other ills
And worse assail me now; the whieh to bear,
Ifto avoid be possible, would draw
Damnation down. Orpas, the perjured Priest,
The apostate Orpas, claims me for his bride.
Obdurate as he is, the wretch profanes
My sacred woe, and woos me to his bed,
The thing I am, .. the living death thou seest!
Miscreant! exclaim'd Pelayo. Might I meet
That renegado sword to scymitar
In open field, never did man approach
The altar for the sacrifice in faith
More sure, than I should hew the villain down!
But how should Julian favour his demand? ..
Julian, who hath so passionately loved
His child, so dreadfully revenged her wrongs!
CountJulian, she replied, hath none but me,
And it hath therefore been his heart's desire
To see his ancient line by me preserved.
This was their covenant when, in fatal hour
For Spain and for themselves , in traitorous bond
of union they combined. My father, stung
To madness, only thought of how to make
His vengeance sure: The Prelate, calm and cool,
When he renounced his outward faith in Christ,
Indulged at once his hatred ofthe King,
His inbred wickedness, and a haughty hope,
Versed as he was in treasons, to direet
The invaders by his secret policy,
And at their head, aided by Julian's power,
Reign as a Moor upon that throne to which
The priestly order else had barr'd his way.
The African hath conquer'd for himself;
But Orpas coveteth Count Julian's lands,
And claims to have the covenant perform'd.
 69
Friendless, and worse than fatherless, I come
To theefor succour. Send me secretly, ..
For well I know all faithful hearts must be
At thy devotion, ..with a trusty guide
To guard me on the way, that I may reach
Some Christian land, where Christian rites are free,
And there discharge a vow, alas! too long,
Too fatally delay'd. Aid me in this
For Roderick's sake, Pelayo! and thy name
Shall be remember'd in my latest prayer.
Be comforted! the Prince replied; but when
He spake of comfort, twice did he break off
The idle words, feeling that earth had none
For griefso irremediable as hers.
At length he took her hand, and pressing it,
And forcing through involuntary tears
A mournful smile affectionate, he said,
Say not that thou art friendless while I live!
Thou could'st not to a readier ear have told
Thy sorrows, nor have ask'd in fitter hour
What for my country's honour, for my rank,
My faith, and sacred knighthood, I am bound
In duty to perform; .. which not to do
Would show me undeserving ofthe names
Of Goth, Prince, Christian, even ofMan. This day,
Lady, prepare to take thy lot with me,
And soon as evening closes meet me here.
Duties bring blessings with them, and I hold
Thy coming for ahappy augury,
In this most awful crisis of my fate.
Roderick &Florinda

X.

WITH sword and breast-plate under rustic weeds

Conceal'd, at dusk Pelayo past the gate,
Florinda following near, disguised alike.
Two peasants on their mules they seem'd, at eve
Returningfrom the town. Not distant far,
Alphonso by the appointed orange-grove,
With anxious eye and agitated heart,
Watch'd for the Prince's coming. Eagerly
At every foot-fall through the gloom he strain'd
His sight, nor did he recognize him when
The Chieftain thus accompanied drew nigh;
And when the expected signal call'd him on,
Doubting this female presence, half in fear
Obey'd the call. Pelayo too perceived
The boy was not alone; he not for that
Delay'd the summons, but, lest need should be,
Laying hand upon his sword, toward him bent
In act soliciting speech, and low of voice
Enquired iffriend or foe. Forgive me, cried
Alphonso, that I did not tell thee this,
Full as I was ofhappiness, before.
'Tis Hoya, servant ofmy father's house,
Unto whose dutiful care and love, when sent
To this vile bondage, I was given in charge.
How could I look upon my father's face
IfI had in my joy deserted him,
Who was to me found faithful?. . Right! replied
The Prince; and viewing him with silent joy,
Blessed the Mother, in his heart he said,
Who gave thee birth! but sure ofwomankind
Most blessed she whose hand her happy stars
 71
Shall link with thine! and with that thought the form
Of Hermesind, his daughter, to his soul 27
Camein her beauty.
Soon by devious tracks
They turned aside. The favouring moon arose,
To guide them on their flight through upland paths
Remote from frequentage, and dales retired,
Forest and mountain glen. Before their feet
The fire-flies, swarming in the woodland shade,
Sprung up like sparks, and twinkled round their way;
The timorous blackbird, starting at their step,
Fled from the thicket, with shrill note of fear;
And far below them in thepeopled dell,
When all the soothing sounds ofeve had ceased,
The distant watch-dog's voice at times was heard,
Answering the nearer wolf. All through the night
Among the hills they travell'd silently;
Till when the stars were setting, at what hour
The breath ofHeaven is coldest, they beheld
Within a lonely grove the expected fire,
Where Roderick and his comrade anxiously
Look'd forthe appointed meeting. Halting there,
They from the burthen and the bit relieved
Their patient bearers, and around the fire
Partook ofneedful food and grateful rest.
Bright rose the flame replenish'd; it illumed
The cork-tree's furrow'd rind, its rifts and swells
And redder scars, .. and where its aged boughs
O'erbower'd the travellers, cast upon the leaves
A floating, grey, unrealizing gleam.
Alphonso, light of heart, upon the heath
Lay carelessly dispread, in happy dreams
Ofhome: his faithful Hoya slept beside.
Years and fatigue to old Siverian brought
Easy oblivion; and the Prince himself,
Yielding to weary nature's gentle will,
Forgot his cares awhile. Florinda sate
Beholding Roderick with fix'd eyes intent,
Yet unregardant ofthe countenance
 72
Whereon they dwelt; in other thoughts absorb'd,
Collecting fortitude for what she yearn'd,
Yet trembled to perform. Her steady look
Disturb'd the Goth, albeit he little ween'd
What agony awaited him that hour.
Her face, well nigh as changed as his, was now
Half-hidden, and the lustre of her eye
Extinct; nor did her voice awaken in him
One startling recollection when she spake,
So alter'd were its tones.
Father, she said,
All thankful as I am to leave behind
The unhappy walls of Cordoba, not less
Ofconsolation doth my heart receive
At sight ofone to whom I may disclose
The sins which trouble me, and at his feet
Lay down repentantly, in Jesus' name,
The burthen ofmy spirit. In his name
Hear me, and pour into a wounded soul
Thebalm ofpious counsel... Saying thus,
She drew toward the minister ordain'd,
And kneeling by him, Father, dost thou know
The wretch who kneels beside thee? she enquired.
He answer'd, Surely we are each to each
Equally unknown.
Then said she, Here thou seest
One who is known too fatally for all, ..
The daughter of Count Julian.... Well it was
For Roderick that no eye beheld him now:
From head to foot a sharper pang than death
Thrill'd him; his heart, as at a mortal stroke,
Ceased from its functions; his breath fail'd, and when
The power oflife recovering set its springs
Again in action, cold and clammy sweat
Starting at every pore suffused his frame.
Their presence help'd him to subdue himself;
For else, had none been nigh, he would have fall'n
Before Florinda prostrate on the earth,
And in that mutual agony belike
But souls had taken flight. She mark'd him not;
 73
For having told her name, she bow'd her head,
Breathing a short and silent prayer to Heaven,
While, as the penitent, she wrought herself
To open to his eye her hidden wounds.
Father, at length she said, all tongues amid
This general ruin shed their bitterness
On Roderick, load his memory with reproach,
And with their curses persecute his soul.
Why shouldst thou tell me this? exclaimed the Goth,
From his cold forehead wiping as he spake
The death-like moisture: .. Why of Roderick's guilt
Tell me? Or thinkest thou I know it not?
Alas! who hath not heard the hideous tale
Of Roderick's shame! Babes learn it from their nurses,
And children, by their mothers unreproved,
Link their first execrations to his name.
Oh, it hath caught a taint ofinfamy,
That, like Iscariot's, through all time shall last,
Reeking and fresh for ever!
There! she cried,
Drawing her body backward where she knelt,
And stretching forth her arms with head upraised,.
There! it pursues me still .. I came to thee,
Father, for comfort, and thou heapest fire
Upon myhead. But hear me patiently,
And let me undeceive thee! self-abased,
Not to arraign another, do I come; ..
I come a self-accuser, self-condemned,
To take upon myselfthe pain deserved;
For I have drank the cup of bitterness,
And havingdrank therein of heavenly grace,
I must not put away the cup ofshame.
Thus as she spake she faultered at the close,
And in that dying fall her voice sent forth
Somewhat ofits original sweetness. Thou! ..
Thou self-abased! exclaim'd the astonish'd King; ..
Thou self-condemn'd! .. The cup of shame for thee! ..
Thee thee, Florinda! ... Butthe very excess
D
 74
Of passion check'd his speech, restraining thus
From farther transport, which had haply else
Master'd him; and he sate like one entranced,
Gazing upon that countenance so fall'n,
So changed: her face, raised from its muffler now,
Was turn'd toward him, and the fire-light shone
Full on its mortal paleness; but the shade
Conceal'd the King.
She roused him from the spell
Which held him like a statue motionless.
Thou too, quoth she, dost join the general curse,
Like one who when he sees a felon's grave,
Casting a stone there as he passes by,
Adds to the heap of shame. Oh what are we,
Frail creatures as we are, that we should sit
Injudgment man on man! and what were we
Ifthe All-merciful should mete to us
With the same rigorous measure wherewithal
Sinner to sinner metes! But God beholds
The secrets ofthe heart, .. therefore his name
Is Merciful. Servant of God, see thou
The hidden things of mine, and judge thou then
In charity thy brother who hath fall'n....
Nay, hear me to the end! I loved the King, .
Tenderly, passionately, madly loved him.
Sinful it was to love a child of earth
With such entire devotion as I loved
Roderick, the heroic Prince, the glorious Goth!
And yet methought this was its only crime,
The imaginative passion seem'd so pure:
Quiet and calm like duty, hope nor fear
Disturb'd the deep contentment of that love:
He was the sunshine of my soul, and like
A flower, 1 lived and flourish'd in his light.
Oh bear not with me thus impatiently!
No tale ofweakness this, that in the act
Ofpenitence, indulgent to itself,
With garrulous palliation half repeats
The sin it ill repents. I will be brief,
And shrink not from confessing how the love
 75
Which thus began in innocence, betray'd
My unsuspecting heart; nor me alone,
But him, before whom, shining as he shone
With whatsoe'er is noble, whatsoe'er
Is lovely, whatsoever good and great,
I was as dust and ashes, .. him, alas!
This glorious being, this exalted Prince,
Even him, with all his royalty ofsoul,
Did this ill-omen'd, this accursed love,
To his most lamentable fall betray
And utter ruin. Thus it was: the King,
By counsels of cold statesmen ill-advised,
To an unworthy mate had bound himself
In politic wedlock. Wherefore should I tell
How nature upon Egilona's form,
Profuse ofbeauty, lavishing her gifts,
Left, like a statue from the graver's hands,
Deformity and hollowness beneath
The rich external? For the love of pomp
And emptiest vanity, hath she not incurr'd
The griefand wonder of good men, the gibes
Ofvulgar ribaldry, the reproach ofall;
Profaning the most holy sacrament
Ofmarriage, to become chief ofthe wives
Of Abdalaziz, ofthe Infidel,
The Moor, the tyrant-enemy of Spain!
All know her now; but they alone who knew
What Roderick was can judge his wretchedness,
To that light spirit and unfeeling heart
In hopeless bondage bound. No children rose
From this unhappy union, towards whom
The springs of love within his soul confined
Might flow in joy and fulness; nor was he
One, like Witiza, ofthe vulgar crew,
Who in promiscuous appetite can find
All their vile nature seeks. Alas for man!
Exuberant health diseases him, frail worm!
And the slight bias ofuntoward chance
Makes his best virtues from the even line,
With fatal declination, swerve aside.
 76
Aye,thou may'st groan for poor mortality, ..
Well, Father, may'st thou groan!
My evil fate
Made me an inmate ofthe royal house,
And Roderick found in me, if not a heart
Like his, .. for who was like the heroic Goth?.
One which at least felt his surpassing worth,
And loved him for himself... A little yet
Bear with me, reverend Father, for I touch
Upon the point, and this long prologue goes,
As justice bids, to palliate his offence,
Not mine. The passion, which I fondly thought
Such as fond sisters for a brother feel,
Grew day by day, and strengthen'd in its growth,
Tillthe beloved presence was become
Needful as food or necessary sleep,
My hope, light, sunshine, life, and every thing.
Thus lapt in dreams of bliss, I might have lived
Contented with this pure idolatry,
Had he been happy: but I saw and knew
The inward discontent and household griefs
Which he subdued in silence; and alas!
Pity with admiration mingling then,
Alloy'd and lower'd and humanized my love,
Till to the level of my lowliness
It brought him down; and in this treacherous heart
Too often the repining thought arose,
That if Florinda had been Roderick's Queen,
Then might domestic peace and happiness
Have blest his home and crown'd our wedded loves.
Too often did that sinful thought recur,
Too feebly the temptation was repell'd.
See, Father, I have probed my inmost soul;
Have search'd to its remotest source the sin,
And tracingit through all its specious forms
Of fair disguisement, I present it now,
Even as it lies before the eye of God,
Bare and exposed, convicted and condemn'd.
One eve, as inthe bowers which overhang
 77
The glen were Tagus rolls between his rocks 28
I roam'd alone, alone I met the King.
His countenance was troubled, and his speech
Like that ofone whose tongue to light discourse
At fits constrain'd, betrays a heart disturb'd:
I too, albeit unconscious of his thoughts,
With anxious looks reveal'd what wandering words
In vain assay'd to hide. A little while
Did this oppressive intercourse endure,
Till our eyes met in silence, each to each
Telling their mutual tale, then consciously
Together fell abash'd. He took my hand
And said, Florinda, would that thou and I
Earlier had met; Oh what a blissful lot
Had then been mine, who might have found in thee
The sweet companion and the friend endeared,
A fruitful wife and crown ofearthlyjoys!
Thou too should'st then have been of womankind
Happiest, as now the loveliest... And with that,
First giving way to passion first disclosed,
He prest upon my lips a guilty kiss,
Alas! more guiltily received than given.
Passive and yielding, and yet self-reproach'd,
Trembling I stood, upheld in his embrace;
When coming steps were heard, and Roderick said,
Meet me to-morrow, I beseech thee, here,
Queen ofmy heart! Oh meet me here again,
My own Florinda, meet me here again!..
Tongue, eye, and pressure ofthe impassion'd hand
Solicited and urged the ardent suit,
And from my hesitating hurried lips
The word ofpromise fatally was drawn.
O Roderick, Roderick! hadst thou told me all
Thy purpose at that hour, from what a world
Of woe had thou and I..... The bitterness
Of that reflection overcame her then,
And choak'd her speech. But Roderick sate the while
Covering his face with both his hands close-prest,
His head bow'd down, his spirit to such point
Of sufferance knit, as one who patiently
Awaits the uplifted sword.
 78
Till now, said she,
Resuming her confession, I had lived,
Ifnot in innocence, yet self-deceived,
And of my perilous and sinful state
Unconscious. But this fatal hour revealed
To my awakening soul her guilt and shame;
And in those agonies with which remorse,
Wrestling with weakness and with cherish'd sin,
Doth triumph o'er the lacerated heart,
That night.. that miserable night..I vow'd,
A virgin dedicate, to pass my life
29 Immured; and, like redeemed Magdalen,
36 Or that Egyptian penitent, whose tears
Fretted the rock and moisten'd round her cave
The thirsty desert, so to mourn my fall.
The struggle ending thus, the victory
Thus, as I thought, accomplished, I believed
My soul was calm, and that the peace ofHeaven
Descended to accept and bless my vow;
And in this faith, prepared to consummate
The sacrifice, I went to meet the King.
See, Father, what a snare had Satan laid!
For Roderick came to tell me that the Church
From his unfruitful bed would set him free,
And I should be his Queen.
Oh let me close
31 The dreadful tale! I told him of my vow;
And from sincere and scrupulous piety,
But more, I fear me, in that desperate mood
Ofobstinate will perverse, the which, with pride
And shame and self-reproach, doth sometimes make
A woman's tongue, her own worst enemy,
Run counter to her dearest heart's desire, ..
In that unhappy mood did I resist
All his most earnest prayers to let the power
Of holy Church, never more rightfully
Invoked, he said, than now in our behalf, uts biet
Release us from our fatal bonds. He urged
With kindling warmth his suit, like one whose life
Hung onthe issue: I dissembled not
 79
My cruel self-reproaches, nor my grief,
Yet desperately maintain'd the rash resolve;
Till in the passionate argument he grew
Incensed, inflamed, and madden'd or possess'd, ……
For Hell too surely at that hour prevail'd,
And with such subtle toils enveloped him,
That even in the extremity ofguilt
No guilt he purported, but rather meant
An amplest recompence of life-long love
For transitory wrong, which fate perverse,
Thus madly he deceived himself, compell'd ,
And therefore stern necessity excused:
Here then, O Father, at thy feet I own
Myselfthe guiltier; for full well I knew
These were his thoughts, but vengeance master'd me.
And in my agony I curst the man
Whom I loved best.
Dost thou recall that curse?
Cried Roderick, in a deep and inward voice,
Still with his head depress'd, and covering still
His countenance. Recall it? she exclaim'd;
Father, I come to thee because I gave
The reins to wrath too long,.. because I wrought
His ruin, death, and infamy.. O God,
Forgive the wicked vengeance thus indulged,
As I forgive the King! ... But teach me thou
What reparation more than tears and prayers
May now be made; .. how shall I vindicate
His injured name, and take upon myself....
Daughter ofJulian, firmly he replied,
Speak not ofthat, I charge thee! On his fame
The Ethiop dye, fix'd ineffaceably,
For ever will abide: so it must be,
So should be; 'tis his rightful punishment;
And ifto the full measure ofhis fault
The punishment hath fallen, the more our hope
That through the blood ofJesus he may find
His sins forgiven him. 1
Pausing then, he raised
His hand, and pointed where Siverian lay
 80
Stretch'd on the heath. To that old man, said he,
And to the mother ofthe unhappy Goth,
Tell, ifit please thee, not what thou hast pour'd
Into my secret ear, but that the child
For whom they mourn with anguish unallay'd,
Sinn'd not from vicious will, or heart corrupt,
But fell by fatal circumstance betray'd.
And ifin charity to them thou say'st
Something to palliate, something to excuse
An act ofsudden frenzy when the fiend
O'ercame him, thou wilt do for Roderick
All he could ask thee, all that can be done
On earth, and all his spirit could endure.
Venturing towards her an imploring look,
Wilt thoujoin with me for his soul in prayer?
He said, and trembled as he spake. That voice
Of sympathy was like Heaven's influence,
Wounding at once and comforting the soul.
O Father, Christ requite thee! she exclaim'd;
Thou hast set free the springs which withering griefs
Have closed too long. Forgive me, for I thought
Thou wert a rigid and unpitying judge,
One whose stern virtue, feeling in itself
No flaw offrailty, heard impatiently
Ofweakness and ofguilt. I wrong'd thee, Father! ..
With that she took his hand, and kissing it,
Bathed it with tears. Then in a firmer speech,
For Roderick, for Count Julian and myself,
Three wretchedest ofall the human race,
Who have destroy'd each other and ourselves,
Mutually wrong'd and wronging, let us pray!
 Corint
nt Pedro's Castle,

XI.

TWELVE weary days with unremitting speed,

Shunning frequented tracks, the travellers
Pursued their way; the mountain path they chose,
The forest or the lonely heath wide spread,
Where cistus shrubs sole-seen exhaled at noon
Their fine balsamic odour all around;
Strew'd with their blossoms, frail as beautiful,
The thirsty soil at eve; and when the sun
Relumed the gladden'd earth, opening anew
Their stores exuberant, prodigal as frail,
Whiten'd again the wilderness. They left
The dark sierra's skirts behind, and crost
The wilds where Ana in her native hills
Collects her sister springs, and hurries on
Her course melodious amid loveliest glens,
With forest and with fruitage overbower'd.
These scenes profusely blest by Heaven they left,
Where o'er the hazel and the quince the vine
Wide-mantling spreads; and clinging round the cork
And ilex, bangs amid their dusky leaves
Garlands of brightest hue, with reddening fruit
Pendant, or clusters cool ofglassy green.
So holding on o'er mountain and o'er vale,
Tagus they crost where midland on his way
The King of Rivers rolls his stately stream;
And rude Alverches wide and stony bed;
And Duero distant far; and many a stream
And many a field obscure, in future war
For bloody theatre offamous deeds
Foredoom'd; and deserts where in years to come
D2
 82

Shall populous towns arise, and crested towers

And stately temples rear their heads on high.
Cautious with course circuitous they shunn'd
The embattled city, which in eldest time
Thrice-greatest Hermes built, so fables say,
Now subjugate, but fated to behold
Ere long the heroic Prince (who passing now
Unknown and silently the dangerous track,
Turns thither his regardant eye) come down
Victorious from the heights, and bear abroad
Her banner'd Lion, symbol to the Moor
Ofrout and death through many an age ofblood.
Lo, there the Asturian hills! Far in the west,
Huge Rabanal and Foncebadon huge,
Pre-eminent, their giant bulk display,
Darkening with earliest shade the distant vales
Of Leon, and with evening premature.
Far in Cantabria eastward, the long line
Extends beyond the reach of eagle's eye,
When buoyant in mid-heaven the bird ofJove M.
Soars at his loftiest pitch. In the north, before
The travellers the Erbasian mountains rise,
Bounding the land beloved, their native land.
How then, Alphonso, did thy eager soul ; g
Chide the slow hours, and painful way, which seem'd
Lengthening to grow before their lagging pace!
Youth ofheroic thought and high desire,
'Tis not the spur of lofty enterprize
That with unequal throbbing hurries now
The unquiet heart, now makes it sink dismay'd;
'Tis not impatient joy which thus disturbs
In that young breast the heathful spring oflife:
Joy and ambition have forsaken him,
His soul is sick with hope. So near his home,
So nearhis mother's arms; .. alas! perchance cov
The long'd-for meeting may be yet far off
As earth from heaven. Sorrow in these long months
Of separation may have laid her low;
 83
Or what ifat his flight the bloody Moor
Hath sent his ministers of slaughter forth,
And he himself should thus have brought the sword
Upon his father's head? .. Sure Hoya too
The same dark presage feels, the fearful boy
Said in himself; or wherefore is his brow
Thus overcast with heaviness, and why
Looks he thus anxiously in silence round?
Just then that faithful servant raised his hand,
And turning to Alphonso with a smile,
He pointed where Count Pedro's towers far off
Peer'd in the dell below: faint was the smile,
And while it sate upon his lips, his eye
Retain❜d its troubled speculation still.
For long had he look'd wistfully in vain,
Seeking where far or near he might espy
From whom to learn if time or chance had wrought
Change in his master's house: but on the hills
Nor goat-herd could he see, nor traveller,
Nor huntsman early at his sports afield,
Nor angler following up the mountain glen
His lonely pastime; neither could he hear
Carol, or pipe, or shout of shepherd's boy,
Nor woodman's axe, for not a human sound
Disturb'd the silence of the solitude.
Is it the spoiler's work? At yonder door
Behold the favourite kidling bleats unheard;
The next stands open, and the sparrows there
Boldly pass in and out. Thither he turn'd
To seek what indications were within:
The chesnut-bread was on the shelf;the churn,753 8:08
As ifin haste forsaken, full and fresh;
The recent fire had moulder'd on the hearth;
And broken cobwebs mark'd the whiter space
Where from the wall the buckler and the sword
Had late been taken down. Wonder at first
Had mitigated fear, but Hoya now
Return'd to tell the symbols ofgood hope,
And they prick'd forwardjoyfully. Ere long,
 84
Perceptible above the ceaseless sound
Ofyonder stream, a voice of multitudes,
As ifin loud acclaim, was heard far off;
And nearer as they drew, distincter shouts
Came from the dell, and at Count Pedro's gate.
The human swarm were seen, ..a motely groupe,
Maids, mothers, helpless infancy, weak age,
And wondering children and tumultuous boys,
Hot youth and resolute manhood gathered there,
In uproar all. Anon the moving mass
Falls in half circle back; a general cry
Bursts forth, exultant arms are lifted up,
And caps are thrown aloft, as through the gate
Count Pedro's banner came. Alphonso shriek'd
Forjoy, and smote his steed and gallop'd on.
Fronting the gate the standard-bearer holds
His precious charge. Behind the men divide
In order'd files; green boyhood presses there,
And waning eld, pleading a youthful soul,
Intreats admission. All is ardour here,
Hope and brave purposes and minds resolved.
Nor where the weaker sex is left apart
Doth ought offear find utterance, though perchance
Some paler cheeks might there be seen, some eyes
Big with sad bodings, and some natural tears.
Count Pedro's war-horse in the vacant space
Strikes with impatient hoof the trodden turf,
And gazing round upon the martial show,
Proud of his stately trappings, flings his head,
And snorts and champs the bit, and neighing shrill
Wakes the near echo with his voice ofjoy.
The page beside him holds his master's spear
And shield and helmet. In the castle gate
Count Pedro stands, his countenance resolved
But mournful, for Favinia on his arm
Hung, passionate with her fears, and drew him back.
Go not, she cried, with this deluded crew!
She hath not, Pedro, with her frantic words
Bereft thy faculty,..she is crazed with grief,
And her delirium hath infected these:
 85
But, Pedro, thou art calm; thou dost not share
The madness of the crowd; thy sober mind
Surveys the danger in its whole extent,
And sees the certain ruin, .. for thou know'st
I know thou hast no hope. Unhappy man,
Why then for this most desperate enterprize
Wilt thou devote thy son, thine only child?
Not for myself I plead, nor even for thee:
Thou art a soldier, and thou canst not fear
The face of death; and I should welcome it
As the best visitant whom Heaven could send.
Not for our lives I speak then, .. were they worth
The thought ofpreservation; .. Nature soon
Must call for them; the sword that should cut short
Sorrow's slow work were merciful to us.
But spare Alphonso! there is time and hope
In store for him. O thou who gavest him life,
Seal not his death, his death and mine at once!
Peace! he replied; thou know'st there is no choice.
I did not raise the storm; I cannot turn
Its course aside; but where yon banner goes
Thy Lord must not be absent! Spare me then,
Favinia, lest I hear thy honour'd name
Nowfirst attainted with deserved reproach.
The boy is in God's hand. He who of yore
Walk'd with the sons ofJudah in the fire,
And from the lion's den drew Daniel forth
Unhurt, will save him,..ifit be his will.
Just as he spake the astonish'd troop set up
A shout ofjoy which rung through all the hills.
Alphonso heeds not how they break their ranks
And gather round to greet him; from his horse
Precipitate and panting offhe springs."
Pedro grew pale, and trembled at his sight;
Favinia claspt her hands, and looking up
To heaven as she embraced the boy, exclaim'd,
Lord God, forgive me for my sinful fears!
Unworthy that I am,..my son, my son!
 The Vow .
な
XII.

ALWAYS I knewthee for a generous foe,

Pelayo! said the Count; and in our time
Ofenmity, thou too, I know, didst feel
The feud between us was but ofthe house,
Not ofthe heart. Brethren in arms henceforth
We stand or fall together: nor will I
Look to the event with one misgiving thought,..
That were to prove myselfunworthy now
Of Heaven's benignant providence, this hour,
Scarcely by less than miracle, vouchsafed.
I will believe that we have days in store
Ofhope, now risen again as from the dead, ..
ofvengeance, .. of portentous victory, ..
Yea, maugre all unlikelihoods, ofpeace.
Let us then here indissolubly knit
Our ancient houses, that those happy days,
When they arrive, may find us more than friends,
And bound by closer than fraternal ties.
Thou hast a daughter, Prince, to whom my heart
Yearns now, as ifin winning infancy
Her smiles had been its daily food of love.
Ineed not tell thee what Alphonso is, ..
Thou know'st the boy!
Already had that hope,
Replied Pelayo, risen within my soul.
O Thou, who in thy mercy from the house
Of Moorish bondage hast deliver'd us,
Fulfil the pious purposes for which
Here, in thy presence, thus we pledge our hands!
 87
Strange hour to plight espousals! yielding half
To superstitious thoughts, Favinia cried,
And these strange witnesses! ..The times are strange,
With thoughtful speech composed her Lord replies,
And what thou seest accords with them. This day
Is wonderful; nor could auspicious Heaven
With fairer or with fitter omen gild
Our enterprize, when strong in heart and hope
We take the field, preparing thus for works
Ofpiety and love. Unwillingly
I yielded to my people's general voice,
Thinking that she who with her powerful words
To this excess had roused and kindled them,
Spake from the spirit of her griefs alone,
Not with prophetic impulse. Be that sin
Forgiven me! and the calm and quiet faith
Which, in the place ofincredulity,
Hath fill'd me, now that seeing I believe,
Doth give ofhappy end to righteous cause
A presage, not presumptuous, but assured.
Then Pedro told Pelayo how from vale
To vale the exalted Adosinda went,
Exciting sire and son, in holy war
Conquering or dying, to secure their place
In Paradise; and how reluctantly,
And mourning for his child by his own act
Thus doom'd to death, he bade with heavy heartdat
His banner be brought forth. Devoid alike, sabel InA
Ofpurpose and of hope himself, he meant sind
To march toward the western mountaineers,
Where Odoar by his counsel might direct
Their force conjoin'd. Now, said he, we must haste
To Cangas, there, Pelayo, to secure
With timely speed, I trust in God, thy house.
Then looking to his men, he cried, Bring forth
The armour which in Wamba's wars I wore.... 32
Alphonso's heart leapt at the auspicious words.
Count Pedro mark'd the rising glow ofjoy, ..
 88
Doubly to thee, Alphonso, he pursued,
This day above all other days is blest,
From whence as from a birth-day thou wilt date
Thy life in arms!
Rejoicing in their task,
The servants ofthe house with emulous love
Dispute the charge. One brings the cuirass, one
The buckler; this exultingly displays
The sword, his comrade lifts the helm on high:
The greaves, the gauntlets they divide; .. a spur
Seems now to dignify the officious hand
Which for such service bears it to his Lord.
Greek artists in the imperial city forged
That splendid armour, perfect in their craft;
With curious skill they wrought it, framed alike
To shine amid the pageantry of war,
And forthe proofofbattle. Many a time
Alphonso from his nurse's lap had stretch'd
His infant hands toward it eagerly,
Where gleaming to the central fire it hung
High in the hall; and many a time had wish'd
With boyish ardour, that the day were come
When Pedro to his prayers would grant the boon,
His dearest heart's desire. Count Pedro then
Would smile, and in his heart rejoice to see
The noble instinct manifest itself.
Then too Favinia with maternal pride
Would turn her eyes exulting to her Lord,
And in that silent language bid him mark
His spirit in his boy: all danger then
Was distant, and if secret forethought faint
Of manhood's perils, and the chance ofwar,
Hateful to mothers, past across her mind,
The ill remote gave to the present hour
Aheighten'd feeling of secure delight.
No season this for old solemnities,
For wassailry and sport; .. the bath, the bed,
33 The vigil, ..all preparatory rites
Omitted now,.. here in the face of Heaven,
 89
Before the vassals ofhis father's house,
With them in instant peril to partake
The chance of life or death, the heroic boy
34Dons
Whichhiso'er tunictheto coated
firstthearms; scales
his knees of steel
depend,
The hose, the sleeves ofmail: bareheaded then
He stood. But when Count Pedro took the spurs,
And bent his knee in service to his son,
Alphonso from that gesture half drew back,
Starting in reverence, and a deeper hue
Spread o'er the glow ofjoy which flush'd his cheeks.
Do thou the rest, Pelayo! said the Count;
So shall the ceremony of this hour
Exceed in honour what in form it lacks.
The Prince from Hoya's faithful hand received
The sword; he girt it round the youth, and drew
And placed it in his hand; unsheathing then
His own good falchion, with its burnished blade
He touch'd Alphonso's neck, and with a kiss
Gave him his rank in arms.
Thus long the crowd
Had look'd intently on, in silence hush'd;
Loud and continuous now with one accord,
Shout following shout, their acclamations rose:
Blessings were breathed from every heart, and joy,
Powerful alike in all, which as with force
Of an inebriating cup inspired
The youthful, from the eye of age drew tears.
The uproar died away, when, standing forth,
Roderick with lifted hand besought a pause
For speech, and moved toward the youth. I too,
Young Baron, he began, must do my part;
Not with prerogative of earthly power, as CHOS
But as the servant of the living God,
The God ofHosts. This day thou promisest
To die when honour calls thee, for thy faith,
For thy liege Lord, and for thy native land:
The duties which at birth we all contract,
Are by the high profession of this hour
Made thine especially. Thy noble bloody
 90

The thoughts with which thy childhood hath been fed,

And thine own noble nature more than all,
Are sureties for thee. But these dreadful times
Demand a farther pledge; for it hath pleased
The Highest, as he tried his Saints ofold,
So in the fiery furnace of his wrath
To prove and purify the sons of Spain;
And they must knit their spirits to the proof,
Or sink, for ever lost. Hold forth thy sword,
Young Baron, and before thy people take
The vow which, in Toledo's sacred name,
Poor as these weeds bespeak me, I am here
To minister with delegated power.
With reverential awe was Roderick heard
Byall, so well authority became
That mien and voice and countenance austere.
Pelayo with complacent eye beheld
The unlook'd-for interposal, and the Count
Bends toward Alphonso his approving head.
The youth obedient loosen'd from his belt
The sword, and looking, while his heart beat fast,
To Roderick, reverently expectant stood.
O noble youth, the Royal Goth pursued,
Thy country is in bonds: an impious foe
Oppresses her; he brings with him strange laws
Strange language, evil customs, and false faith,
And forces them on Spain. Swear that thy soul
Will make no covenant with these accurst,
But that the sword shall be from this day forth
Thy children's portion, to be handed down
From sire to son, a sacred heritage,
Through every generation, till the work
Be done, and this insulted land hath drunk,
In sacrifice, the last invader's blood!
Bear witness, ancient mountains! cried the youth,
And ye, my native streams, who hold your course
For ever;..this dear earth, and yonder sky,
 91
Be witness! for myself I make the vow,
And for my children's children. Here I stand
Their sponsor, binding them in sight ofHeaven,
As by a new baptismal sacrament,
To wage hereditary, holy war,
Perpetual, patient, persevering war,
Till not one living enemy pollute
The sacred soil of Spain.
So as he ceased,
While yet toward the clear blue firmament
His eyes were raised, he lifted to his lips
The sword, with reverent gesture bending then
Devoutly kiss'd its cross.
And ye? exclaim'd
Roderick, as turning to the assembled troop
He motion'd with authoritative hand, ..
Ye children ofthe hills, and sons ofSpain?
Through every heart the rapid feeling ran, ..
For us! they answer'd all with one accord,
And at the word they knelt. People and Prince,
The young and old, the father and the son,
At once they knelt; with one accord they cried,
For us, and for our seed! with one accord
They crost their fervent arms, and with bent head
Inclined toward that awful voice from whence
The inspiring impulse came. The Royal Goth
Made answer, I receive your vow for Spain
And for the Lord of Hosts: your cause is good,
Go forward in his spirit and his strength.
Ne'er in his happiest hours had Roderick
With such commanding majesty dispensed
His princely gifts, as dignified him now,
When with slow movement, solemnly upraised,
Toward the kneeling troop he spread his arms,
As ifthe expanded soul diffused itself,
And carried to all spirits with the act
Its effluent inspiration. Silently
The people knelt, and when they rose , such awe
Held them in silence, that the eagle's cry,
Who far above them, at her highest flight
 92
A speck scarce visible, wheel'd round and round,
Was heard distinctly; and the mountain stream,
Which from the distant glen sent forth its sound
Wafted upon the wind, was audible
In that deep hush offeeling, like the voice
Ofwaters in the stillness ofthe night.
 Coment Eudon

XIII.

THAT awful silence still endured, when one,

Who to the northern entrance of the vale
Had turn'd his casual eye, exclaim'd, The Moors! ..
For from the forest verge a troop were seen
Hastening toward Pedro's hall. Their forward speed
Was check'd when they beheld his banner spread,
And saw his order'd spears in prompt array
Marshall'd to meet their coming. But the pride
Of power and insolence of long command
Prick'd on their Chiefpresumptuous: We are come
Late for prevention, cried the haughty Moor,
But never time more fit for punishment!
These unbelieving slaves must feel and know
Their master's arm! ..on, faithful Musslemen,
On.. on,.. and hew down the rebellious dogs! ..
Then as he spurr'd his steed, Allah is great!
Mahommed is his prophet! he exclaim'd,
And led the charge.
Count Pedro met the Chief
In full career; he bore him from his horse
A full spear's length upon the lance transfix'd;
Then leaving in his breast the mortal shaft,
Past on, and breaking through the turban'd files
Open'd a path. Pelayo, who that day
Fought in the ranks afoot, for other war
Yet unequipp'd, pursued and smote the foe,
But ever on Alphonso at his side
Retain❜d a watchful eye. The gallant boy
Gave his good sword that hour its earliest taste
Of Moorish blood, .. that sword whose hungry edge ,
Through the fair course ofall his glorious life
 94
From that auspicious day, was fed so well.
Cheap was the victory now for Spain achieved;
For the first fervour of their zeal inspired
The mountaineers, .. the presence of their Chiefs,
The sight of all dear objects, all dear ties,
The air they breathed, the soil whereon they trod,
Duty, devotion, faith, and hope and joy.
And little had the misbelievers ween'd
In such impetuous onset to receive
A greeting deadly as their own intent;
Victims they thought to find, not men prepared
And eager for the fight; their confidence
Therefore gave way to wonder, and dismay
Effected what astonishment began.
Scatter'd before the impetuous mountaineers,
Buckler and spear and scymitar they dropt,
As in precipitate route they fled before
The Asturian sword: the vales and hills and rocks
Received their blood, and where they fell the wolves
At evening found them.
From the fight apart
Two Africans had stood, who held in charge
Count Eudon. When they saw their countrymen
Falter, give way, and fly before the foe,
One turn'd toward him with malignant rage,
And saying, Infidel! thou shalt not live
Tojoin their triumph! aim'd against his neck
The moony falchion's point. His comrade raised
A hasty hand and turn'd its edge aside,
Yet so that o'er the shoulder glancing down
It scarr'd him as it past. The murderous Moor,
Not tarrying to secure his vengeance, fled;
While he ofmilder mood, at Eudon's feet
Fell and embraced his knees. The conqueror
Who found them thus, withheld at Eudon's voice
His wrathful hand, and led them to his Lord.
Count Pedro and Alphonso and the Prince
Stood on a little rocky eminence
Which overlook'd the vale. Pedro had put
 95
His helmet off, and with sonorous horn
Blew the recall; for well he knew what thoughts,
Calm as the Prince appear'd and undisturb'd,
Lay underneath bis silent fortitude;
And how at this eventful juncture speed
Imported more than vengeance. Thrice he sent
The long-resounding signal forth, which rung
Fromhill to hill, re-echoing far and wide.
Slow and unwillingly his men obey'd
The swelling horn's reiterated call;
Repining that a single foe escaped
The retribution ofthat righteous hour.
Withlingering step reluctant from the chase
They turn'd, .. their veins full-swoln, their sinews
strung
For battle still, their hearts unsatisfied;
Their swords were dropping still with Moorish gore,
And where they wiped their reeking brows, the stain
OfMoorish blood was left. But when they came
Where Pedro, with Alphonso at his side,
Stood to behold their coming, then they prest,
All emulous, with gratulation round,
Extolling for his deeds that day display'd'
The noble boy. Oh! when had Heaven, they said,
With such especial favour manifest
Illustrated a first essay in arms!
They blest the father from whose loins he sprung,
The mother at whose happy breast he fed;
And pray'd that their young hero's fields might be
Many, and all like this.
Thus they indulged
The honest heart, exuberant of love,
When that loquacious joy at once was check'd,
For Eudon and the Moor were led before
Count Pedro. Both came fearfully and pale,
But with a different fear: the African
Felt at this crisis of his destiny
Such apprehension as without reproach
Might blanch a soldier's cheek when life and death
Hang on another's will, and helplessly
 96
He must abide the issue. But the thoughts
Which quail'd Count Eudon's heart, and made his
limbs
Quiver, were of his own unworthiness,
Old enmity, and that he stood in power
Of hated and hereditary foes.
I came not with them willingly! he cried,
Addressing Pedro and the Prince atonce,
Rolling from each to each his restless eyes
Aghast,... the Moor can tell I had no choice;
They forced me from my castle: in the fight
They would have slain me: ... see I bleed! The Moor
Can witness that a Moorish scymitar
Inflicted this: ... he saved me from worse hurt: ...
I did not come in arms: ... he knows it all; ..
Speak, man, and let the truth be known to clear
My innocence!
Thus as he ceased, with fear
And rapid utterance panting open-mouth'd,
Count Pedro half represt a mournful smile,
Wherein compassion seem'd to mitigate
His deep contempt. Methinks, said he, the Moor
Might with more reason look himself to find
An intercessor, than be call'd upon
To play the pleader's part. Didst thou then save
The Baron from thy comrades?
Let my Lord
Show mercy to me, said the Mussleman,
As I am free from falsehood. We were left,
I and another, holding him in charge;
My fellow would have slain him when he saw
Howthe fight fared: I turn'd the scymitar
Aside, and trust that life will be the meed
For life by me preserved.
Nor shall thy trust,
Rejoined the Count, be vain. Say farther now,
From whence ye came, ..your orders what: what
force
In Gegio, and ifothers like yourselves
Are in the field?
 97
The African replied,
We came from Gegio, ordered to secure
This Baron on the way, and seek thee here
To bear thee hence in bonds. A messenger
From Cordoba, whose speed denoted well
He came with urgent tidings, was the cause sakeyhunk
Of this our sudden movement. We went forth
Three hundred men; an equal force was sent
For Cangas, on like errand as I ween.
Four hundred in the city then were left.
Ifother force be moving from the south,
I know not, save that all appearances
Denote alarm and vigilance.
The Prince
Fix'd upon Eudon then his eye severe;
Baron, he said, the die of war is cast;
What part art thou prepared to take? against, 1,683
Or with the oppressor?
Not against my friends, ..
Not against you! ..the irresolute wretch replied,
Hasty, yet faltering in his fearful speech:
But..have ye weigh'd it well? .. It is not yet
Too late,..their numbers, their victorious force,
Which hath already trodden in the dust
The sceptre ofthe Goths; .. the throne destroy'd, ..
Our towns subdu'd, .. our country overrun, ..
The people to the yoke of their new Lords
Resign'd in peace... Can I not mediate?..
Were it not better through my agency and eve
To gain such terms, .. such honourable terms .....
Terms! cried Pelayo, cutting short at once
That dastard speech, and checking, ere it grewing
Too powerful for restraint, the incipient rage,
Which in indignant murmurs breathing round,
Rose like a gathering storm. Learn thou what terms
Asturias, this day speaking by my voice,
Doth constitute to be the law between
Thee and thy Country. Our portentous age,
As with an earthquake's desolating force,
E
 98
Hath loosen'd and disjointed the whole frame
Of social order, and she calls not now
For service with the voice of sovereign will.
That which was common dutyin old times,
Becomes an arduous, glorious virtue now;
And every one, as between Hell and Heaven,
In free election must be left to choose.
Asturias asks not of thee to partake
The cup which we have pledged; she claims from none
The dauntless fortitude, the mind resolved,
Which only God can give; .. therefore such peace
As thou canst find where all around is war,
She leaves thee to enjoy. But think not, Count,
That because thou art weak, one valiant arm,
One generous spirit must be lost to Spain!
The vassal owes no service to the Lord h
Who to his country doth acknowledge none.
The summons which thou hast not heart to give,
I and Count Pedro over thy domains
Will send abroad; the vassals who were thine
Will fight beneath our banners, and our wants
Shall from thy lands, as from a patrimony
Which hath reverted to the common stock,
Be fed: Such tribute, too, as to the Moors
Thou renderest, we will take: It is the price
Which in this land for weakness must be paid
While evil stars prevail. And mark me, Chief!
Fear is a treacherous counsellor! I know
Thou thinkest that beneath his horses' hoofst
The Moor will trample our poor numbers down.
But join not, in contempt of us and Heaven,
His multitudes! for ifthou should'st be found
Against thy country, on the nearest tree
Thy recreant bones shall rattle in the wind, a ond
When the crows have left them bare.
As thus he spake
Count Eudon heard and trembled: every joint
Was loosen'd, every fibre of his flesh shi
Thrill'd, and from every pore effused, cold sweate
Clung on his quivering limbs. Shame forced it forth,
 99
Envy and inward consciousness, and fear
Predominant, which stifled in his heart
Hatred and rage. Before his livid lips
Could shape to utterance their essay'd reply,
Compassionately Pedro interposed.
Go, Baron, to the castle, said the Count;
There let thy wound be look'd to, and consult
Thy better mind at leisure. Let this Moor
Attend upon thee there, and when thou wilt,
Follow thy fortunes.... To Pelayo then
He turn'd, and saying, All-too-long, O Prince,
Hath this unlook'd-for conflict held thee here,..
He bade his gallant men begin their march.
Flush'd with success, and in auspicious hour,
The mountaineers set forth. Blessings and prayers
Pursued them at their parting, and the tears
Which fell were tears of fervour, not ofgrief.
The sun was verging to the western slope
Of Heaven, but they till midnight travell'd on;
Renewing then at early dawn their way,
They hold their unremitting course from morn
Till latest eve, such urgent cause impell'd;
And night had closed around, when to the vale
Where Sella in her ampler bed receives
Pionia's stream they came. Massive and black
Pelayo's castle there was seen; its lines
And battlements against the deep blue sky
Distinct in solid darkness visible.
No light is in the tower. Eager to know
The worst, and with that fatal certainty
To terminate intolerable dread,
He spurred his courser forward. All his fears
Too surely are fulfill'd, .. for open stand
The doors, and mournfully at times a dogs
Fills with his howling the deserted hall.
A moment overcome with wretchedness, bir
Silent Pelayo stood; recovering then,
Lord God, resign'd he cried, thy will be done!
 The Reserve.

XIV.

COUNT, said Pelayo, Nature hath assign'd

Two sovereign remedies for human grief;
Religion, surest, firmest, first and best,
Strength to the weak and to the wounded balm;
And strenuous action next. Think not I came
With unprovided heart. My noble wife,
In the last solemn words, the last farewell
With which she charged her secret messenger,
Told me that whatsoe'er was my resolve,
She bore a mind prepared. And well I know
The evil, be it what it may, hath found
In her a courage equal to the hour.
Captivity, or death, or what worse pangs
She in her children may be doom'd to feel,
Will never make that steady soul repent
Its virtuous purpose. I too did not cast
My single life into the lot, but knew
These dearer pledges on the die were set;
And ifthe worst have fall'n, I shall but bear
That in my breast, which, with transfiguring power
Of piety, makes chastening sorrow take
The form ofhope, and sees, in Death, the friend
And the restoring Angel. We must rest
Perforce, and wait what tidings night may bring,
Haply ofcomfort. Ho there! kindle fires,
And see ifaught ofhospitality
Can yet within these mournful walls be found!
Thus while he spake, lights were descried far off
Moving among the trees, and coming sounds
 101
Were heard as ofa distant multitude.
Anon a company ofhorse and foot,
Advancing in disorderly array,
Came up the vale: before them and beside
Their torches flash'd on Sella's rippling stream;
Now gleam'd through chesnut groves, emerging now,
O'er their huge boughs and radiated leaves
Cast broad and bright a transitory glare.
That sight inspired with strength the mountaineers;
All sense ofweariness, all wish for rest
At once were gone: impatient in desire
Ofsecond victory alert they stood;
And when the hostile symbols, which from far
Imagination to their wish had shaped,
Vanish'd in nearer vision, high-wrought hope
Departing, left the spirit pall'd and blank.
No turban'd race, no sons of Africa
Were they who now came winding up the vale,
As waving wide before their horses' feet
The torch-light floated, with its hovering glare
Blackening the incumbent and surrounding night,
Helmet and breast-plate glitter'd as they came,
And spears erect; and nearer as they drew and
Were the loose folds offemale garments seen
On those who led the company. Who then
Had stood beside Pelayo, might have heard
The beating of his heart.
But vainly there
Sought he with wistful eye the well-known forms
Beloved; and plainly might it now be seen
That from some bloody conflict they return'd
35 Victorious,.... for at every saddle-bow
A gory head was hung. Anon they stopt,
Levelling in quick alarm their ready spears.exts F
Hold! who goes there? cried one. A hundred tongues
Sent forth with one accord the glad reply,
Friends and Asturians. Onward moved the lights,
The people knew their Lord.
Then what a shout
Rung through the valley! From their clay-built nests,
 102
Beneath the overbrowing battlements,
Now first disturb'd, the affrighted martins flew, Arm
And uttering notes of terror short and shrill,
Amid the yellowglare and lurid smoke
Wheel'd giddily. Then plainly was it shown
How well the vassals loved their generous Lord,
How like a father the Asturian Prince
Was dear. They crowded round; they claspt his knees;.
They snatched his hand; they fell upon his neck, ··
They wept; .. they blest Almighty Providence,
Which had restored him thus from bondage free:
God was with them and their good cause, they said;
His hand was here, .. His shield was over them,
His spirit was abroad, .. His power display'd: okuyan é
And pointing to their bloody trophies then, -based
They told Pelayo there he might behold
The first fruits ofthe harvest they should soon I
Reap in the field ofwar! Benignantly,
With voice and look and gesture, did the Prince
To these warm greetings of tumultuous joyssorb
Respond; and sure ifat that moment aught ERDEMIO
Could forawhile have overpower'd those fears tha
Which from the inmost heart o'er all his frame gene
Diffused their chilling influence, worthy prident dedi
And sympathy of love and joy and hope, o Zadaes
Had then possess'd him wholly. Even now are all
His spirit rose; the sense ofpower, the sight ESG una
Ofhis brave people, ready where he led
To fight their country's battles, and the thought peo
Of instant action, and deliverance,
If Heaven, which thus far had protected him, hetk
Should favour still, .. revived his heart, and gave og
Fresh impulse to its spring. In vain he sought quKÁ
Amid that turbulent greeting to enquire wolseyed
Where Gaudiosa was, his children where, od# big27
Who call'd them to the field, who captain'd them; part
And how these women, thus with arms and deathreit's
Environ'd, came amid their company,worst snung wiT
For yet, amid the fluctuating light
And tumult ofthe crowd, he knew them not.
 103
Guisla was one. The Moors had found in her stra
A willing and concerted prisoner.
Gladly to Gegio, to the renegade
On whom her loose and shameless love was bent, ad
Had she set forth; and in her heart she cursedrec
The busy spirit, who, with powerful call
Rousing Pelayo's people, led them on bod
In quick pursual, and victoriously abah dudeVi
Achieved the rescue, to her mind perverse prona
Unwelcome as unlook'd for. With dismayanzage16)
She recognized her brother, dreadednow
More than he once was dear: her countenance 3
Was turned toward him, ..not with eagerjoy
To court his sight, and meetingits first glance,
Exchange delightful welcome, soul with soul; akan Phot
Hers was the conscious eye, that cannot chuse we
But look to what it fears. She could not shun
His presence, and the rigid smile constrain'd,esanet
With which she coldly drest her features, illester bond
Concealed her inward thoughts, and the despite of
Ofobstinate guilt and unrepentant shame. 4/th /2951
Sullenly thus upon her mule she sate, and
Waiting the greeting which she did not dare, RGAZ
Bring on. But who is she that at her side,
Upon a stately war-horse eminent,
Holds the loose rein with careless hand? A helm
Presses the clusters ofher flaxen hair;
The shield is on her arm; her breast is mail'd;
A sword-belt is hergirdle, and right well
It may be seen that sword hath done its work
To-day, for upward from the wrist her sleeve
Is stiff with blood. An unregardant eye,
As one whose thoughts were not ofearth, she cast
Upon the turmoil round. One countenance
So strongly-mark'd, so passion-worn was there,
That it recall'd her mind. Ha! Maccabee!
Lifting her arm, exultingly she cried,
Did I not tell thee we should meet in joy?
Well, Brother, hast thou done thy part, .. I too
 104
Have notbeen wanting! Now be His the praise,
From whom the impulse came!
That startling call,
That voice so well remember'd, touch'd the Goth
With timely impulse now; for he had seen
His Mother's face, .. and at her sight, the past
And present mingled like afrightful dream,
Whichfrom some dread reality derives
Its deepest horror. Adosinda's voice
Dispersed the waking vision. Little deem'd
Rusilla at that moment that the child,
For whom her supplications day and night
Wereoffer'd, breathed the living air. Her heart
Was ealm; her placid countenance, though grief
Deeperthan time had left its traces there,
Retain'd its dignity serene; yet when
Siverian, pressing through the people, kiss'd
Her reverent hand, some quiet tears randown.
As she approach'd the Prince, the crowd made way
Respectful. The maternal smile which bore
Her greeting, from Pelayo's heart almost
Dispell'd its boding. What he would have ask'd
She knew, and bending from her palfreydown,
Told him that they for whom he look'd were safe,
And that in secret he should hear the rest.
 Roderich at Cangas

XV.

Howcalmly gliding through the dark-blue sky

The midnight Moon ascends! Her placid beams,
Through thinly scatter'd leaves and boughs grotesque,
Mottle with mazy shades the orchard slope;
Here, o'er the chesnut's fretted foliage grey
And massy, motionless they spread; here shine
Upon the crags, deepening with blacker night
Their chasms; and there the glittering argentry
Ripples and glances on the confluent streams.
A lovelier, purer light than that ofday
Rests on the hills; and oh how awfully
Into that deep and tranquil firmament
The summits of Auseva rise serene!
The watchman on the battlements partakes
The stillness ofthe solemn hour; he feels
The silence ofthe earth, the endless sound
Offlowing water soothes him, and the stars,
Whichin that brightest moon-light well-nigh quench'd,
Scarce visible, as in the utmost depth
Ofyonder sapphire infinite, are seen,
Draw on with elevating influence
Toward eternity the attemper'd mind.
Musing on worlds beyond the grave he stands,
And to the Virgin Mother silently
Breathes forth her hymn of praise.
The mountaineers
Before the castle, round their mouldering fires,
Lie on the heath outstretch'd. Pelayo's ball
Is full, and he upon his careful couch
Hears all around the deep and long-drawn breath
Ofsleep; for gentle night hath brought to these
2E
 106.
Perfect and undisturb'd repose, alike
Ofcorporal powers and inward faculty.
Wakeful the while he lay, yet more by hope
Than grief or anxious thoughts possess'd, .. though
grief
For Guisla's guilt, which freshen'd in his heart
The memory oftheir wretched mother's crime,
Still made its presence felt, like the dull sense
Of some perpetual inward malady;
And the whole peril of the future lay
Before him clearly seen. He had heard all:
How that unworthy sister, obstinate
In wrong and shameless, rather seem'd to woo
The upstart renegado than to wait
His wooing; how, as guilt to guilt led on,
Spurning at gentle admonition first,
When Gaudiosa hopelessly forbore
From farther counsel, then in sullen mood
Resentful, Guisla soon began to hate
The virtuous presence before which she felt
Her nature how inferior, and her fault M
How foul. Despiteful thus she grew, because
Humbled yet unrepentant. Who could say
To what excess bad passions might impel
A woman thus possess'd? She could not fail
To mark Siverian's absence, for what end
Her conscience but too surely had divined;
And Gaudiosa, well aware that all
To the vile paramour was thus made known,
Had to safe hiding-place with timely fear
Removed her children. Well the event had proved
How needful was that caution; for at night
She sought the mountain solitudes, and morn
Beheld Numacian's soldiers at the gate.
Yet did not sorrow in Pelayo's heart
For this domestic shame prevail that hour,
Nor gathering danger weigh his spirit down.
The anticipated meeting put to flight
These painful thoughts: to-morrow will restore
All whom his heart holds dear; his wife beloved,
 107
No longer now remember'd for regret,
Is present to his soul with hope and joy;
His inward eye beholds Favila's form
In opening youth robust, and Hermesind,
His daughter, lovely as a budding rose:
Their images beguile the hours ofnight,
Till with the earliest morning he may seek
Their secret hold.
The nightingale not yet
Had ceased her song, nor had the early lark
Her dewy nest forsaken, when the Prince
Upward beside Pionia took his way
Toward Auseva. Heavily to him,
Impatient for the morrow's happiness,
Long night had linger'd, but it seem'd more long
To Roderick's aching heart. He too had watch'd
For dawn, and seen the earliest break ofday,
And heard its earliest sounds; and when the Prince
Went forth, the melancholy man was seen
With pensive pace upon Pionia's side
Wandering alone and slow. For he had left
The wearying place of his unrest, that morn
With its cold dews might bathe his throbbing brow,
And with its breath allay the feverish heat
That burnt within. Alas! the gales of morn
Reach not the fever ofa wounded heart!
How shall he meet his Mother's eye, how make
His secret known, and from that voice revered
Obtain forgiveness, .. all that he has now
To ask, ere on the lap of earth in peace
He lay his head resign'd! In silent prayer
He supplicated Heaven to strengthen him
Against that trying hour, there seeking aid
Where all who seek shall find; and thus his soul
Received support, and gather'd fortitude,
Never than now more needful, for the hour
Was nigh. He saw Siverian drawing near,
And with a dim but quick foreboding met
The good old man: yet whenhe heard him say,
My Lady sends to seek thee, like a knell
 108
To one expecting and prepared for death,
But fearing the dread point that hastens on,
It smote his heart. He follow'd silently,
And knit his suffering spirit to the proof.
He went resolved to tell his Mother all,
Fallat herfeet, and drinking the last dregs/
Ofbitterness, receive the only good
Earth had in store for him. Resolved for this
He went; yet was it a relief to find
That painful resolution must await
A fitter season, when no eye but Heaven's
Might witness to their mutual agony.
Count Julian's daughter with Rusilla sate;
Both had been weeping, both were pale, but calm.
With head as for humility abased
Roderick approach'd, and bending, on his breast
He cross'd his humble arms. Rusilla rose
36 In reverence to the priestly character,
And with a mournful eye regarding him,
Thus she began. Good Father, I have heard
From my old faithful servant and true friend, -stay
Thou didst reprove the inconsiderate tongue,
That in the anguish of its spirit pour'd
A curse upon my poor unhappy child.
O Father Maccabee, this is a hard world,
And hasty in its judgments! Time has been,
When not a tongue within the Pyrenees
Dared whisper in dispraise of Roderick's name,
Lest ifthe conscious air had caught the sound,
The vengeance ofthe honest multitude
Should fall upon the traitrous head, or brand
For life-long infamy the lying lips.
Nowifa voice be raised in his behalf,
'Tis noted for a wonder, and the man
Who utters the strange speech shall be admired
For such excess ofChristian charity.
Thy Christian charity hath not been lost; ..
Father, I feel its virtue: ..it hath been
Balm to my heart: .. with words and grateful tears,..
 109
All that is left me now for gratitude, ..
I thank thee, and beseech thee in thy prayers story bel
That thou wilt still remember Roderick's name.
Roderick so long had to this hour look'd on,
That when the actual point of trial came,
Torpid and numb'd it found him: cold he grew,
And as the vital spirits to the heart
Retreated, o'er his wither'd countenance,
Deathy and damp, a whiter paleness spread.
Unmoved the while the inward feeling seem'd,
Even in such dull insensibility
As gradual age brings on, or slow disease,
Beneath whose progress lingering life survives
The power of suffering. Wondering at himself,
Yet gathering confidence, he raised his eyes,
Then slowly shaking as he bent his head,
O venerable Lady, he replied,
If aught may comfort that unhappy soul
It must be thy compassion, and thy prayers. [No Pejov
She whom he most hath wrong'd, she who alone
On earth can grant forgiveness for his crime,analse
She hath forgiven him; and thy blessing now
Were all that he could ask, .. all that could bring (se
Profit or consolation to his soul,
If he hath been, as sure we may believe,
A penitent sincere.
Oh had he lived,
Replied Rusilla, never penitence vers
Had equall'd his! full well I know his heart,
Vehement in all things. He would on himselfd
Have wreak'd such penance as had reach'd the height
Of fleshly suffering, .. yea, which being told allow
With its portentous rigour should have maderende
The memory of his fault, o'erpower'd and lost book wit
In shuddering pity and astonishment,
Fade like a feebler horror. Otherwise
Seem'd good to Heaven. I murmur not, nor doubt
The boundless mercy of redeeming love.
For sure I trust that not in his offence
Harden'd and reprobate was my lost son,
 110

A child of wrath, cut off ! .. that dreadful thought,

Not even amid the first fresh wretchedness,
When the ruin burst around me like a flood,
Assail'd my soul. I ever deem'd his fall
An act of sudden madness; and this day muflab toid
Hath in unlook'd-for confirmation given
A livelier hope, a more assured faith.
• Smiling benignant then amid her tears,
She took Florinda by the hand, and said,
I little thought that I should live to bless
Count Julian's daughter! She hath brought to me
The last, the best, the only comfort earth 4.
Could minister to this afflicted heart,
And my grey hairs may now unto the grave
Go down in peace.
Happy, Florinda cried,
Arethey for whom the grave hath peace in store!
The wrongs they have sustain'd, the woes they bear,
Pass not that holy threshold, where Death heals
The broken heart. O Lady, thou mayst trust
In humble hope, through Him who on the cross
Gave his atoning blood for lost mankind,
To meet beyond the grave thy child forgiven.
I too with Roderick there may interchange
Forgiveness. But the grief which wastes away
This mortal frame, hastening the happy hour
Of my enlargement, is but a light part
Ofwhat my soul endures; .. that grief hath lost or
Its sting:..I have a keener sorrow here, ..
One which, ... but God forefend that dire event, ..
May pass with me the portals ofthe grave,
And with a thought, like sin which cannot die,
Embitter Heaven. My father hath renounced
His hope in Christ! it was his love for me
Which drove him to perdition ... I was born
To ruin all who loved me, ..all I loved!
Perhaps I sinn'd in leaving him; . . that fear
Rises within me to disturb the peace
Which I should else have found.
 111
To Roderick then were 7
The pious mourner turn'd her suppliant eyes:
O father, there is virtue in thy prayers! .. souled alt
I do beseech thee offer them to Heaven
In his behalf! For Roderick's sake, for mine, passad
Wrestle with him whose name is Merciful, asử ở đak
That Julian may with penitence be touch'd, June3
And clinging to the cross, implore that grace
Which ne'er was sought in vain. For Roderick's sake
And mine, pray for him! We have been the cause
Of his offence! What other miseries
May from that same unhappy source have risen,
Are earthly, temporal, reparable all;..
But ifa soul be lost through our misdeeds,
That were eternal evil! Pray for him,
Good Father Maccabee, and be thy prayers
More fervent, as the deeper is the crime!
While thus Florinda spake, the dog who lay
Before Rusilla's feet, eyeing him long
And wistfully, had recognized at length,
Changed as he was and in those sordid weeds,
His royal Master. And he rose and liok'd
His wither'd hand, and earnestly look'd up
With eyes whose human meaning did not need
The aid of speech; and moan'd, as if at once
To court and chide the long-withheld caress.
A feeling uncommix'd with sense of guilt
Or shame, yet painfullest, thrill'd through the King;
But he, to self-control now long inured,
Represt his rising heart, nor other tears,
Full as his struggling bosom was, let fall
Than seem'd to follow on Florinda's words.
Looking toward her then, yet so that still
He shunn'd the meeting of her eye, he said,
Virtuous and pious as thou art, and ripe
For Heaven, O Lady, I will thinkthe man
Hath not by his Good Angel been cast off
For whom thy supplications rise. The Power
Whosejustice doth in its unerring course
 112
Visit the children for the sire's offence,
Shall He not in His boundless mercy hear
The daughter's prayer, and for her sake restore
The guilty parent? My soul shall with thine
In earnest and continual duty join ... ..
How deeply, how devoutly, he will know
To whom the cry is raised!
Thus having said,
Deliberately, in self-possession still,
Himselffrom that most painful interview
Dispeeding, he withdrew. The watchful dog
Follow'd his footsteps close. But he retired
Into the thickest grove; there yielding way
To his o'erburden'd nature, from all eyes
Apart, he cast himself upon the ground,
And threw his arms around the dog, and cried,
While tears stream'd down, Thou, Theron, then hast
known
Thy poor lost master, ... Theron, none but thou!
 Covadonga 39

XVI.

MEANTIME Pelayo up the vale pursued

Eastward his way, before the sun had climb'd
Auseva's brow, or shed his silvering beams
Upon Europa's summit, where the snows
Through all-revolving seasons hold their seat.
A happy man he went, his heart at rest,
Ofhope and virtue and affection full,
To all exhilarating influences
Ofearth and heaven alive. With kindred joy
He heard the lark, who from her airy height,
On twinkling pinions poised, pour'd forth profuse,
In thrilling sequence of exuberant song,
As one whose joyous nature overflow'd
With life and power, her rich and rapturous strain.
The early bee, buzzing along the way,
From flower to flower, bore gladness on her wing
To his rejoicing sense; and he pursued
With quicken'd eye alert, the frolic hare,
Where from the green herb in her wanton path
She brush'd away the dews. For he long time,
Far from his home and from his native hills,
Had dwelt in bondage; and the mountain breeze,
Which he had with the breath of infancy
Inhaled, such impulse to his heart restored,
As ifthe seasons had roll'd back, and life
Enjoy'd a second spring.
Throughfertile fields
He went, by cots with pear-trees overbower'd,
Or spreading to the sun their trelliced vines;
Through orchards now, and now bythymy banks,
Where wooden hives in some warm nook were hid
 114

From wind and shower; and now through shadowy

paths,
Where hazels fringed Pionia's vocal stream;
Till where the loftier hills to narrower bound
Confine the vale, he reach'd those huts remote,
Which should hereafter to the noble line
Of Soto origin and name impart:
A gallant lineage, long in fields ofwar
And faithful chronicler's enduring page
Blazon'd; but most by him illustrated,
Avid ofgold, yet greedier of renown,
37 Whom not the spoils of Atabalipa
Could satisfy insatiate, nor the fame
Ofthat wide empire overthrown appease;
But he to Florida's disastrous shores
In evil hour his gallant comrades led,
Through savage woods and swamps, and hostile tribes,
The Apalachian arrows, and the snares
Of wilier foes, hunger, and thirst, and toil;
Till from ambition's feverish dream the touch
OfDeath awoke him; and when he had seen
The fruit ofall his treasures, all his toil,
Foresight, and long endurance, fade away,
Earth to the restless one refusing rest,
In the great river's midland bed he left
His honour'd bones.
A mountain rivulet,
Nowcalm and lovely in its summer course,
Held by those huts its everlasting way
Toward Pionia. They whose flocks and herds
Drink ofits water call it Deva. Here
Pelayo southward up the ruder vale
Traced it, his guide unerring. Amid heaps
Ofmountain wreck, on either side thrown high,
The wide-spread traces of its wintry might,
The tortuous channel wound; o'er beds of sand
Here silently it flows; here, from the rock
Rebutted, curls and eddies; plunges here
Precipitate; here, roaring among crags,
It leaps and foams and whirls and hurries on.
 115
Grey alders here and bushy hazels hid
The mossy side; their wreath'd and knotted feet
Bared by the current, now against its force
Repaying the support they found, upheld
The bank secure. Here, bending to the stream,
The birch fantastic stretch'd its rugged trunk,
Tall and erect, from whence as from their base,
Each like a tree, its silver branches grew.
The cherry here hung for the birds of Heaven vettwad
Its rosy fruit on high. The elder there
Its purple berries o'er the water bent,
Heavily hanging. Here, amid the brook, pre
Grey as the stone to which it clung, half root
Halftrunk, the young ash rises from the rock;
And thereits parent lifts a lofty head,
And spreads its graceful boughs; the passing wind
With twinklingmotion lifts the silent leaves,
And shakes its rattling tufts.
Soon had the Prince
Behind him left the farthest dwelling place
Ofman; no fields of waving corn were here,
Nor wicker storehouse for the autumnal grain,
Vineyard, nor bowery fig, nor fruitful groves;
Only the rocky vale, the mountain stream ,
Incumbent crags, and hills that over hills
Arose on either hand, here hung with woods,
Here rich with heath, that o'er some smooth ascent
Its purple glory spread, or golden gorse;
Bare here, and striated with many a hue,
Scored by the wintry rain; by torrents here
Riven, and with overhanging rocks abrupt.
Pelayo, upward as he cast his eyes
Where crags loose-hanging o'er the narrow pass
Impended, there beheld his country's strength
Insuperable, and in his heart rejoiced.
Oh that the Mussleman were here, he cried,
With all his myriads! While thy day endures,
Moor! thou may'st lord it in the plains; but here
Hath Nature for the free and brave prepared
 116
A sanctuary, where no oppressor's power,
No might ofhuman tyranny can pierce. **
The tears which started then sprang not alonewears of
From lofty thoughts of elevating joy; does numbri sekoja
For love and admiration had their part, et Artin)1995 de
And virtuous pride. Here then thou hast retired,
My Gaudiosa! in his heart he said;
Excellent woman! ne'er was richer boon efe a
Byfate benign to favour'd man indulged, t
Than when thou wert before the face of Heaven 196
Given me to be my children's mother, brave
And virtuous as thou art! Here thou hast fled, 3 bat
Thou who wert nurst in palaces, to dwell
In rocks and mountain caves!.... The thought was sud
proud,
Yetnot without a sense of inmost pain;
For never had Pelayo till that hour ralado bad
So deeply felt the force of solitude.
High over head the eagle soar'd serene, designerth
And the grey lizard on the rocks below outprima 309
Bask'd in the sun: no living creature else borbi p
In this remotest wilderness was seen; aberdas7
Nor living voice was there, ... only the flow o
Of Deva, and the rushing of its springs G
Long in the distance heard, which nearer now, bomodoi
With endless repercussion deep and loud, WESTWED
Throbb'd on the dizzy sense. *
The ascending vale,
Long straiten'd by the narrowing mountains, here ??
Was closed. In front a rock, abrupt and bare, 152vesh
Stood eminent, in height exceeding fars
All edifice of human power, by king, reyalı
Or caliph, or barbaric sultan rear'd,
Or mightier tyrants ofthe world ofold,
Assyrian or Egyptian , in their pride:day bed. He
Yet far above, beyond the reach ofsight,
Swell above swell, the heathery mountain rose.
Here, in two sources, from the living rock
The everlasting springs ofDeva gush'd.
 117
Upon a smooth and grassy plat below,
By Nature there as for an altar drest,
Theyjoin'd their sister stream, which from the earth
Well'd silently. In such a scene rude man
With pardonable error might have knelt
Feeling a present Deity, and made
His offerings to the fountain Nymph devout.
The arching rock disclosed above the springs
A cave, where hugest son of giant birth,
That ere of old in forest ofromance
"Gainst knights and ladies waged discourteous war,
Erect within the portal might have stood.
The broken stone allow'd for hand and foot
No difficult ascent, above the base
In height a tall man's stature, measured thrice.
No holier spot than Covadonga Spain
Boasts in her wide extent, though all her realms
Be with the noblest blood ofmartyrdom
In elder or in later days enrich'd,
And glorified with tales of heavenly aid
By many a miracle made manifest;
Nor in the heroic annals ofher fame
Doth she show forth a scene of more renown.
Then, save the hunter, drawn in keen pursuit
Beyond his wonted haunts, or shepherd's boy,
Following the pleasure of his straggling flock,
None knew the place.
Pelayo, when he saw
Those glittering sources and their sacred cave,
Took from his side the bugle silver-tipt,
And with a breath long drawn and slowexpired
Sent forth that strain, which, echoing fromthe walls
Of Cangas, wont to tell his glad return
When from the chace he came. At the first sound
Favila started in the cave, and cried,
My father's horn! .. A sudden flash suffused
Hermesind's cheek, and she with quicken'd eye
Look'd eagerto her mother silently;
But Gaudiosa trembled and grew pale,
Doubting her sense deceived. A second time
 118

The bugle breathed its well-known notes abroad;

And Hermesind around her mother's neek
Threw her white arms, and earnestly exclaim'd,
'Tis he! ... But when a third and broader blast
Rung in the echoing archway, ne'er did wand,
With magic power endued, call up a sight
So strange, as sure in that wild solitude
It seem'd, when from the bowels ofthe rock
The mother and her children hasten'd forth.
She in the sober charms and dignity
Ofwomanhood mature, nor verging yet
Upon decay; in gesture like a queen,
Such inborn and habitual majesty
Ennobled all her steps, . . . or priestess, chosen
Because within such faultless work of Heaven
Inspiring Deity might seem to make
Its habitation known: ... Favila such
In form and stature, as the Sea Nymph's son,
When that wise Centaur from his cave well-pleased
Beheld the boy divine his growing strength
Against some shaggy lionet essay, dela
And fixing in the half- grown mane his hands,
Roll with him in fierce dalliance intertwined.
But like a creature of some higher sphere
His sister came; she scarcely touch'd the rock,
So light was Hermesind's aerial speed.
Beauty and grace and innocence in her
In heavenly union shone. One who had held
The faith of elder Greece, would sure have thought
She was some glorious nymph of seed divine,
Oread or Dryad, ofDiana's train
The youngest and the loveliest: yea she seem'd
Angel, or soul beatified, from realms
Of bliss, on errand of parental love
To earth re-sent, ... iftears and trembling limbs
With such celestial natures might consist.
Embraced by all, in turn embracing each,
The husband and the father for awhile
Forgot his country and all things beside:
 119
Life hath few moments ofsuch pure delight,
Such foretaste of the perfect joy of Heaven.
And when the thought recurr'd ofsufferings past,
Perils which threaten'd still, and arduous toil
Yet to be undergone, remember'd griefs
Heighten'd the present happiness; and hope
Upon the shadows offuturity.
Shone like the sun upon the morning mists,
When driven before his rising rays they roll,
And melt and leave the prospect bright and clear.
When now Pelayo's eyes had drank their fill
Of love from those dear faces, he went up
To view the hiding place. Spacious it was
As that Sicilian cavern in the hill
Wherein earth-shaking Neptune's giant son
Duly at eve was wont to fold his flock,
Ere the wise Ithacan, o'er that brute force
By wiles prevailing, for a life-long night
Seal'd his broad eye. The healthful air had here
Free entrance, and the cheerful light ofheaven; ver
But at the end, an opening in the floor
Ofrock disclosed a wider vault below,
Which never sun-beam visited, nor breath
Of vivifying morning came to cheer.
No light was there but that which from above
In dim reflection fell, or found its way, vikkol
Broken and quivering, through the glassy stream,
Where through the rock it gush'd. That shadowy light
Sufficed to show, where from theirsecret bed
The waters issued; with whose rapid course,
And with whose everlasting cataracts and our feat T
Such motion to the chill damp atmosphere
Was given, as if the solid walls of rock
Were shaken with the sound.
Glad to respire
The upper air, Pelayo hasten'd back
From that drear den. Look! Hermesind exclaim'd,
Taking her father's hand, thou hast not seen d
My chamber: ... See!..did ever ring-dove chuse
 120
In so secure a nook her hiding-place,
Or build a warmer nest? 'Tis fragrant too,
As warm, and not more sweet than soft; for thyme
And myrtle with the elastic heath are laid,
And, over all, this dry and pillowy moss....
Smiling she spake. Pelayo kiss'd his child,
And, sighing, said within himself, I trust
In Heaven, whene'er thy May of life is come,
Sweet bird, that thou shalt have a blither bower!
Fitlier, he thought, such chamber might beseem
Some hermit of Hilarion's school austere,
Or old Antonius, he who from the hell
Ofhis bewilder'd phantasy saw fiends
In actual vision, afoul throng grotesque
Ofall horrific shapes and forms obscene,
Crowd in broad day before his open eyes.
That feeling cast a momentary shade.
Ofsadness o'er his soul. But deeper thoughts,
Ifhe might have foreseen the things to come,
Would there have fill'd him; for within that cave
His own remains were one day doom'd to find
Their final place ofrest; and in that spot,
Where thatdear child with innocent delight
Had spread her mossy couch, the sepulchre
Shall in the consecrated rock be hewn,
Where with Alphonso, her beloved lord,
Laid side by side, must Hermesind partake
The Everlasting marriage-bed, when he,
Leaving a name perdurable on earth,
Hath changed his earthly for a heavenly crown.
Dear child, upon that fated spot she stood,
In all the beauty ofher opening youth,
In health's rich bloom, in virgin innocence,
While her eyes sparkled and her heart o'erflow'd
With pure and perfect joy offilial love.
Many a slow century since that day hath fill'd
Its course, and countless multitudes have trod
With pilgrim feet that consecrated cave;
Yet not in all those ages, amid all
 121
The untold concourse, hath one breast been swoln
With such emotions as Pelayo felt
That hour. O Gaudiosa, he exclaim'd,
And thou could'st seek for shelter here, amid
This awful solitude, in mountain caves!
Thou noble spirit! Oh when hearts like thine
Grow on this sacred soil, would it not be
In me, thy husband, double infamy,
And tenfold guilt, if I despair'd of Spain!
In all her visitations, favouring Heaven
Hath left her still the unconquerable mind;
And thus being worthy of redemption, sure ),
Is she to be redeem'd.
Beholding her dizaina kun
Through tears he spake, and prest upon her lips X
A kiss of deepest love. Think ever thus, in varns lak
She answer'd, and that faith will give the power
In which it trusts. When to this mountain hold T
These children, thy dear images, I brought, als K
I said within myself, where should they flyer de unsalt
But to the bosom oftheir native hills? Dies
I brought themhere as to a sanctuary,
Where, for the temple's sake, the indwelling God
Would guard his supplicants. O my dear Lord,
Proud as I was to know that they were thine, PËR
Was it a sin if I almost believed,
That Spain, her destiny being linked with theirs,
Would save the precious charge?
shy So let us think,
The Chief replied, so feel and teach and act. foul
Spain is our common parent; let the sons
Be to the parent true, and in her strength
And Heaven, their sure deliverance they will find.
 Raderick& Siverian.

XVII.

0 HOLIEST Mary, Maid and Mother! thou

39 In Covadonga, at thy rocky shrine,
Hast witness'd whatsoe'er ofhuman bliss un zī
Heart can conceive most perfect! Faithful love,
Long crost by envious stars, hath there attain'd
Its crown, in endless matrimony given;
The youthful mother there hath to the font
Her firstborn borne, and there, with deeper senso
Ofgratitude for that dear babe redeem'd
From threatening death, return'd to pay her vows.
But ne'er on nuptial, nor baptismal day,
Nor from theirgrateful pilgrimage discharged,
Did happier group their way down Deva's vale
Rejoicing hold, than this blest family,
O'er whom the mighty Spirit ofthe Land
Spread his protecting wings. The children, free
In youthhead's happy season from all caresaya pull
That might disturb the hour, yet capable
Of that intense and unalloy'd delight
Which childhood feels when it enjoys again
The dear parental presence long deprived;
Nor were the parents now less blest than they,
Even to the height ofhuman happiness;
For Gaudiosa and her Lord that hour
Let no misgiving thoughts intrude: she fix'd
Her hopes on him, and his were fix'd on Heaven;
And hope in that courageous heart derived
Such rooted strength and confidence assured
In righteousness, that 'twas to him like faith , ..
An everlasting sunshine ofthe soul,
Illamining and quickening all its powers,
 123
But on Pionia's side meantime a heart
As generous, and as full of noble thoughts,
Lay stricken with the deadliest bolts of grief.
Upon a smooth grey stone sate Roderick there;
The wind above him stirr'd the bazel boughs,
And murmuring at his feet the river ran.
He sate with folded arms and head declined
Upon his breast, feeding on bitter thoughts,
Till Nature gave him in the exhausted sense
Of woe a respite something like repose;
And then the quiet sound of gentle winds
And waters with their lulling consonance
Beguiled him ofhimself. Ofall within
Oblivious there he sate, sentient alone
Of outward nature, ... of the whispering leaves
That sooth'd his ear, ... the genial breath of heaven
That fann'd his cheek, ... the stream's perpetual flow,
That, with its shadows and its glancing lights,
Dimples and thread-like motions infinite,
For ever varying and yet still the same,
Like time toward eternity, ran by.
Resting his head upon his Master's knees,
Upon the bank beside him Theron lay.
What matters change of state and circumstance,
Or lapse of years, with all their dread events,
To him? What matters it that Roderick wears
The crown no longer, nor the sceptre wields?
It is the dear-loved hand, whose friendly touch
Had flatter'd him so oft; it is the voice,
At whose glad summons to the field so oft
From slumber he had started, shaking off
Dreams of the chace, to share the actualjoy;
The eye, whose recognition he was wont
To watch and welcome with exultant tongue.

A coming step, unheard by Roderick, roused

His watchful ear, and turning he beheld
Siverian. Father, said the good old man,
As Theron rose and fawn'd about his knees,
Hast thou some charm, which draws about thee thus
 124
The hearts ofall our house, ... even to the beast
That lacks discourse of reason, but too oft,
With uncorrupted feeling and dumb faith,
Puts lordly man to shame?... The King replied,
'Tis that mysterious sense by which mankind
To fix theirfriendships and their loves are led,
And which with fainter influence doth extend
To such poor things as this. As we put off
The cares and passions ofthis fretful world,
It may be too that we thus far approach 30
To elder nature, and regain in part
The privilege through sin in Eden lost. tw_bot
40 The timid hare soon learns thatshe may trusty
The solitary penitent, and birds
Will light upon the hermit's harmless hand.
Thus Roderick answer'd in excursive speech, t
Thinking to draw the old man's mind from what
Might touch him else too nearly, and himself vergadeg
Disposed to follow on the lure he threw, 95%
As one whom such imaginations led
Out ofthe world of his own miseries. dg
But to regardless ears his words were given, aẦN CHOẠT
For on the dog Siverian gazed the while, e
Pursuing his own thoughts. Thou hast not felt,
Exclaim'd the old man, the earthquake and the storm;
The kingdom's overthrow, the wreck ofSpain, sad
The ruin ofthy royal Master's house, val
Have reach'd not thee! ... Then turning to the King,
When the destroying enemy drew nigh
Toledo, he continued, and we fled
Before their fury, even while her grief zom
Was fresh, my Mistress would not leave behind
This faithful creature. Well we knew she thought
Of Roderick then, although she named him not;
For never since the fatal certainty
Fell on us all, hath that unhappy name,
Save in her prayers, been known to pass her lips
Before this day. She names him now, and weeps:
But now her tears are tears ofthankfulness,
For blessed hath thy coming been to her
And all who loved the King.
 125
His faultering voice
Here failed him, and he paused: recovering soon,
When that poor injured Lady, he pursued,
Did in my presence to the Prince absolve
The unhappy King ..
bez Ibrat Absolve him! Roderick cried,
And in that strong emotion turn'd his face
Sternly toward Siverian, for the sense
Of shame and self-reproach drove from his mind
All other thoughts. The good old man replied,
Of human judgment humanly I speak. mos e k
Who knows not what Pelayo's life hath been?
Not happier in all dear domestic ties,
Than worthy for his virtue of the bliss
Which is that virtue's fruit; and yet did he
Absolve, upon Florinda's tale, the King.
Siverian, thus he said, what most I hoped,
And still within my secret heart believed,
Is now made certain. Roderick hath been
More sinn'd against than sinning. And with that
He claspt his hands, and, lifting them to Heaven,
Cried, Would to God that he were yet alive!
For not more gladly did I draw my sword
Against Witiza in our common cause,
Than I would fight beneath his banners now,
And vindicate his name!
Did he say this?
The Prince? Pelayo? in astonishment
Roderick exclaimed.... He said it, quoth the old man.
None better knew his kinsman's noble heart,
None lov'd him better, none bewail'd him more:
And as he felt, like me, for his reproach
A deeper grief than for his death, even so
He cherish'd in his heart the constant thought
Something was yet untold, which, being known,
Would palliate his offence, and make the fall
Of one tillthen so excellently good, robo
Less monstrous, less revolting to belief,
More to be pitied, more to be forgiven.
While thus he spake,the fall'n king felt his face
 126
Burn, and his blood flow fast. Down, guilty thoughts!
Firmly he said within his soul; lie still,
Thou heart offlesh! I thought thou hadst been quell'd,
And quell'd thou shalt be! Help me, O my God,
That I may crucify this inward foel
Yea, thou hast help'd me, Father! I am strong,
O Saviour, in thy strength.
As he breathed thus
His inward supplications, the old mantanla sanggan
Eyed him with frequent and unsteady looks.
He had a secret trembling on his lips,
And hesitated, still irresolute
In utterance to embody the dear hope: anthe
Fain would he have it strengthen'd and assured
Bythis concording judgment, yet he fear'd seethe
To have it chill'd in cold accoil. At length #obe
Venturing, he brake with interrupted speeches whet
The troubled silence. Father Maccabee,
I cannot rest till I have laid my heart A
Open before thee. When Pelayo wish'da
That his poor kinsman were alive to rear
His banneronce again, a sudden thought.
Ahope... a fancy ... what shall it be call'd?
Possess'd me, that perhaps the wish might see they?
Its glad accomplishment, ... that Roderick lived,
And might in glory take the field once more
For Spain......I see thou startest at the thought;
Yet spurn it not with hasty unbelief,
As though 'twere utterly beyond. the scope
Of possible contingency. I think
That I have calmly satisfied myself
Howthis is more than idle fancy, more sta
Than mere imaginations of a mind
Which from its wishes builds a baseless faith. ‫گه‬
His horse, his royal robe, his horned helm,
His mail and sword were found: upon the field;cod
ButifKing Roderick had inbattle fall'n, dass
That sword, I know, would only have been found
Clench'd in the hand which, living, knew so well
Towieldthe dreadful steel! Not in the throng.
 127
Confounded, nor amid the turbid stream,
Opening with ignominious arms a way
For flight, would he have perish'd! Where the strife
Was hottest, ring'd about with slaughter'd foes,
Should Roderick have been found: by this sure mark
Ye should have known him, if nought else remain'd,
That his whole body had been gored with wounds,
And quill'd with spears, as if the Moors had felt
Thatin his single life the victory lay,
More than in all the host!
Siverian's eyes
Shone with a youthful ardour while he spake,
His gathering brow grew stern, and as he raised
His arm, a warrior's impulse character'd
The impassion'd gesture. But the King was calm ,
And heard him with unchanging countenance;
For he had taken his resolve, and felt
Once more the peace of God within his soul,
As in that hour whenby his father's grave
He knelt before Pelayo.
Soon the old man
Pursued in calmer tones, ... Thus much I dare
Believe, that Roderick fell not on that day
When treason brought about his overthrow.
Ifyet he live, for sure I think I know
Hisnoble mind, 'tis in some wilderness,
Where, in some savage den inhumed, he drags
The weary load oflife, and on his flesh,
As on a mortal enemy, inflicts
Fierce vengeance with immitigable hand.
Oh that I knew but where to bend my way
In his dear search! my voice perhaps might reach
His heart, might reconcile him to himself,
Restore him to his mother ere she dies,
His people and his country; with the sword,
Them and his own good name should be redeem.
Oh might I but behold him once again
Leading to battle these intrepid bands,
Such as he was, ... yea rising from his fall
More glorious, more beloved! Soon I believe
 128
Joy would accomplish then what grief hath fail'd
To do with this old heart, and I should die
Clasping his knees with such intense delight,
That when I woke in Heaven, even Heaven itself
Could have no higher happiness in store.
Thus fervently he spake, and copious tears
Randown his cheeks. Full oft the Royal Goth,
# Since he came forth again among mankind, ind
Had trembled lest some curious eye should read
His lineaments too closely; now he long'd
To fall uponthe neck of that old man,
And give his full heart utterance. But the sense
Ofduty, by the pride of self- control
Corroborate, made him steadily repress
His yearning nature. Whether Roderick live,
Payingin penitence the bitter price
Of sin, he answer'd, or if earth hath given
Rest tohis earthly part, is only known
To him and Heaven. Dead is he to the world; st
And let not these imaginations rob
His soul ofthy continual prayers, whose aid
Too surely, in whatever world, he needs. ‫المارة‬
The faithful love that mitigates his fault,
Heavenward addrest, may mitigate his doom.th
Living or dead, old man, besure his soul,.
It were unworthy else, doth hold with thine
Entire communion! Doubt not he relies 300#7 947
Firmly on thee, as on a father's love,
Counts on thy offices, and joins with thee
In sympathy and fervent act offaith,
Though regions, or though worlds, should intervene.
Lost as he is, to Roderick this must be
Thy first, best, dearest duty; next must be
To hold right onward in that noble path,
Which he would counsel, could his voice be heard.
Now therefore aid me, while I call upon
The Leaders and the People, that this daybed
We may acclaim Pelayo forour Kingwendun
 The acclamation

XVIII.

Now when from Covadonga down the vale

Holding his way, the princely mountaineer
Came with that happy family in sight
Of Cangas and his native towers, far off
He saw before the gate, in fair array,
The assembled land. Broad banners were display'd,
And spears were sparkling to the sun, shields shone,
And helmets glittered, and the blairing horn,
With frequent sally of impatient joy,
Provoked the echoes round. Well he areeds,
From yonder ensigns and augmented force,
That Odoar and the Primate from the west
Have brought their aid; but wherefore all were thus
Instructed, as for some great festival,
He found not, till Favila's quicker eye,
Catching the ready buckler, the glad boy
Leapt up, and clapping his exultant hands,
Shouted, King! King! my father shall be King
This day! Pelayo started at the word,
And the first thought which smote him brought a siglf
For Roderick's fall; the second was of hope,
Deliverance for his country, for himself
Enduring fame, and glory for his line.
That high prophetic forethought gathered strength,
As looking to his honoured mate, he read
Her soul's accordant augury; her eyes
Brightened; the quickened action of the blood
Tinged with a deeper hue her glowing cheek,
And on her lips there sate a smile which spake
The honourable pride of perfect love,
F2
 130
Rejoicing, for her husband's sake, to share
The lot he chose, the perils he defied,
The lofty fortune which their faith foresaw.
Roderick, in front ofall the assembled troops,
Held the broad buckler, following to the end
That steady purpose to the which his zeal
Had this day wrought the Chiefs. Tall as himself,
Erect it stood beside him, and his hands
Hung resting on the rim. This was an hour
That sweeten'd life, repaid and recompensed
All losses; and although it could not heal
All griefs, yet laid them for awhile to rest.
The active agitating joy that fill'd
The vale, that with contagious influence spread
Through all the exulting mountaineers, that gave
New ardour to all spirits, to all breasts
Inspired fresh impulse of excited hope,
Moved every tongue, and strengthen'd every limb, ..
That joy which every man reflected saw
From every face ofall the multitude,
And heard in every voice, and every sound,
Reach'd not the King. Alooffrom sympathy,
He from the solitude of his own soul
Beheld the busy scene. None shared or knew
His deep and incommunicable joy;
41 None but that Heavenly Father, who alone
Beholds the struggles ofthe heart, alone
Knows and rewards the secret sacrifice.
Among the Chiefs conspicuous Urban stood,
He whom, with well-weighed choice, in arduous time,
To arduous office the consenting Church
42 Had call'd, when Sindered fear-smitten fled;
Unfaithful shepherd, who, for life alone
Solicitous, forsook his flock, when most
In peril and in suffering they required
A pastor's care. Far offat Rome he dwells,
In ignominious safety, while the Church
4 3 Keeps in her aunals the deserter's name;
 131
But from the service which with daily zeal
Devout her ancient prelacy recalls,
Blots it, unworthy to partake her prayers.
Urban,to that high station thus being call'd,
From whence disanimating fear had driven
The former primate, for the general weal
Consulting first, removed with timely care
47 The relics and the written works ofsaints,
Toledo's choicest treasure, prized beyond
All wealth, their living and their dead remains;
These to the mountain fastnesses he bore
Of unsubdued Cantabria, there deposed,
One day to be the boast ofyet unbuilt
Oviedo, and the dear idolatry
Of multitudes unborn. To things ofstate
Then giving thought mature, he held advice
With Odoar, whom of counsel competent
And firm of heart he knew. What then they plann'd,
Time and the course of over-ruled events
To earlier act had ripened, than their hope
Had ever in its gladdest dream proposed;
And here by agents unforeseen, and means
Beyond the scope of foresight brought about,
This day they saw their dearest heart's desire
Accorded them: All-able Providence
Thus having ordered all, that Spain this hour
With happiest omens, and on surest base,
Should from its ruins rear again her throne.
For acclamation and for sacring now
One form must serve, more solemn for the breach
Of old observances, whose absence here
Deeplier impressed the heart, than all display
Ofregal pomp and wealth pontifical,
ofvestments radiant with their gems, and stiff
With ornature of gold; the glittering train,
The long procession, and the full- voiced choir.
This day the forms of piety and war,
In strange but fitting union aust combine.
Not in his alb and cope and orary 44
 132
Came Urban now, nor wore he mitre here,
45 Precious, or auriphrygiate; bare ofhead
He stood, all else in arms complete, and o'er
His gorget's iron rings the pall was thrown
4% ofwool undyed, which on the Apostle's tomb
Gregory had laid, and sanctified with prayer;
That from the living Pontiff and the dead
Replete with holiness, it might impart
Doubly derived its grace. One Page beside
Bore his broad-shadowed helm; another's hand
Held the long spear, more suited in these times
For Urban, than the crosier richly wrought
With silver foliature, the elaborate work
Of Grecian or Italian artist, train'd
In the Eastern capital, or sacred Rome,
Still o'er the West predominant, though fallen.
Better the spear befits the shepherd's hand
When robbers break the fold. Now he had laid
The weapon by, and held a natural cross
Ofrudest form, unpeeled, even as it grew
On the near oak that morn.
Mutilate alike
Of royal rites was this solemnity.
Where was the rubied crown, the sceptre where,
And where the golden pome, the proud array
48 ofermines, aureate vests, and jewelry,
With all which Leuvigild for after kings
Left, ostentatious of his power? The Moor
Had made his spoil ofthese, and on the field
Of Xeres, where contending multitudes
Had trampled it beneath their bloody feet,
The standard of the Goths forgotten lay
Defiled, and rotting there in sun and rain,
Utterly is it lost; nor ever more
Herald or antiquary's patient search
Shall from forgetfulness avail to save
Those blazon'd arms, so fatally of old
Renowned through all the affrighted Occident.
That banner before which imperial Rome
First to a conqueror bowed her head abased;
 133
Which when the dreadful Hun with all his powers
Came like a deluge rolling o'er the world,
Made head, and in the front of battle broke
His force till then resistless; which so oft
Had with alternate fortune braved the Frank; -
Driven the Byzantine from the farthest shores
OfSpain, long lingering there, to final flight;
And oftheir kingdoms and their name despoil'd
The Vandal, and the Alan, and the Sueve; 49
Blotted from human records is it now
As it had never been. So let it rest
With things forgotten! But Oblivion ne'er
Shall cancel from the historic roll, nor Time,
Who changeth all, obscure that fated sign,
Which brighter now than mountain snows at noon
To the bright sun displays its argent field.
Rose not the vision then upon thy soul
O Roderick, when within that argent field
Thou saw'st the rampant Lion, red as if
Upon some noblest quarry he had roll'd,
Rejoicing in his satiate rage, and drunk
With blood and fury? Did the auguries
Which opened on thy spirit bring with them
A perilous consolation, deadening heart
And soul, yet worse than death, ... that thou through
all
Thy checquered way of life, evil and good,
Thy errors and thy virtues, had'st but been
The poor mere instrument of things ordain'd,
Doing or suffering, impotent alike
To will or act, ... perpetually bemock'd
With semblance of volition, yet in all
Blind worker of the ways of destiny!
That thought intolerable, which in the hour
Ofwoe indignant conscience had repelled,
As little might it find reception now,
When the regenerate spirit self- approved
Beheld its sacrifice complete. With faith
Elate, he sawthe banner'd Lion float
 134
Refulgent, and recalled that thrilling shout
Which he had heard when on Romano's grave
The joy ofvictory woke him from his dream,
And sent him with prophetic hope to work
Fulfilment of the great events ordain'd,
There in imagination's inner world
Prefigured to his soul.
Alone advanced
Before the ranks, the Goth in silence stood,
While from all voices round, loquaciousjoy
Mingled its buzz continuous with the blast
Of horn, shrill pipe, and tinkling cymbals' clash,
And sound of deafening drum. But when the Prince
Drew nigh, and Urban with the cross upheld
Stept forth to meet him, all at once were still'd
With instantaneous hush; as when the wind,
Before whose violent gust the forest oaks,
Tossing like billows their tempestuous heads,
Roar like a raging sea, suspends its force,
And leaves so dead a calm that not a leaf
Moves on the silent spray. The passingair
Bore with it from the woodland undisturb'd
The ringdove's wooing, and the quiet voice
Of waters warbling near.
Son of a race be
Of Heroes and ofKings! the Primate thus og de
Address'd him, Thou in whom the Gothic blood,
Mingling with old Iberia's, has restored
To Spain a ruler of her native line,
Stand forth, and in the face of God and man young
Swear to uphold the right, abate the wrong,
With equitable hand, protect the cross
Whereon thy lips this day shall seal their vow,
And underneath that hallow'd symbol, wage
Holy and inextinguishable war
Against the accursed nation that usurps
Thy country's sacred soil!
So speak of me
Now and for ever, O my countrymen!
Replied Pelayo, and so deal with me
 135
Here and hereafter, thou, Almighty God,
In whom I put my trust!
A Lord God of Hosts, 50
Urban pursued, of Angels and of Men
Creator and Disposer, King of Kings,
Ruler of Earth and Heaven, ... look down this day,
And multiply thy blessings on the head
Of this thy servant, chosen in thy sight!
Be thou his counsellor, his comforter,
His hope, hisjoy, his refuge, and his strength!
Crown him with justice, and withfortitude!
Defend him with thy all-sufficient shield!
Surround him every where with the right hand
Of thine all-present power! and with the might
Of thine omnipotence, send in his aid
Thy unseen angels forth, that potently
And royally against all enemies
He may endure and triumph! Bless the land
O'er which he is appointed; bless it with
The waters of the firmament, the springs
Of the low-lying deep, the fruits which sun
And moon mature for man, the precious stores
Ofthe eternal hills, and all the gifts
Of earth, its wealth and fulness!
Then he took
Pelayo's hand, and on his finger placed
The mystic circlet... With this ring, O Prince,
To our dear Spain, who like a widow now
Mourneth in desolation, I thee wed:
For weal or woe thou takest her, till death
Dispart the union: Be it blest to her,
To thee, and to thy seed!
Thus when he ceased,
He gave the awaited signal. Roderick brought
The buckler: Eight for streng th and stature chosen
Came to their honour'd office: Round the shield
Standing, they lower it for the Chieftain's feet,
Then slowly raised upon their shoulders lift
The steady weight. Erect Pelayo stands,
And thrice he brandishes the shining sword,
 136
While Urban to the assembled people cries,
Spaniards, behold your King! The multitude
Then sent forth all their voice with glad acclaim,
Raising the loud Real; thrice did the word
Ring through the air, and echo fromthe walls
Of Cangas. Far and wide the thundering shout,
Rolling among reduplicating rocks,
Peal'd o'er the hills, and up the mountain vales.
The wild ass starting in the forest glade
Ran to the covert; the affrighted wolf
Skulk'd through the thicket, to a closer brake;
The sluggish bear, awaken'd in his den,
Roused up, and answer'd with a sullen growl,
Low-breathed and long; and at the uproar scared ?
The brooding eagle from her nest took wing.
Heroes and Chiefs ofold! and ye who bore
Firm to the last, your part in that dread strife, www
When Julian and Witiza's viler race
Betray'd their country, hear ye from yon Heaven
The joyful acclamation which proclaims
That Spain is born again? O ye who died
In that disastrous field, and ye who fell
Embracing with a martyr's love your death
Amid the flames of Auria; and all ye
Victims innumerable, whose cries unheard
On earth, but heard in heaven, from all the land
Went up forvengeance; not in vain ye cry
Before the eternal throne! ... Rest innocent blood!
Vengeance is due, and vengeance will be given!
Rest innocent blood! The appointed age is come!
The star that harbingers a glorious day
Hath risen! Lo there the avenger stands! Lo there
He brandishes the avenging sword! Lo there
The avenging banner spreads its argent field
Refulgent with auspicious light!.... Rejoice,
520 Leon, for thy banner is display'd,
Rejoice with all thy mountains, and thy vales
And streams! And thou, O Spain, through all thy
realms,
 137
For thy deliverance cometh! Even now
As from all sides the miscreant hosts move on;
From southern Betis; from the western lands
Where through redundant vales smooth Minho flows,
And Douro pours through vine-clad hills the wealth
OfLeon's gathered waters; from the plains
Burgensian, in old time Vardulia call'd,
But in their castellated strength ere long
To be designed Castille , a deathless name;
From midland regions where Toledo reigns
Proud city onher royal eminence, b
53 And Tagus bends his sickle round the scene
Of Roderick's fall; from rich Rioja's fields;
Dark Ebro's shores; the walls of Salduba,
Seat ofthe Sedetanians old, by Rome
Cæsarean and August denominate,
Now Zaragoza, in this later time
Above all cities ofthe earth renown'd
For duty perfectly perform'd; ...
. East, West
And South, where'er their gathering multitudes
Urged by the speed of vigorous tyranny,
With more than with commeasurable strength
Haste to prevent the danger, crush the hopes
Of rising Spain, and rivet round her neck
The eternal yoke, ... the ravenous fowls of Heaven
Flock there presentient of their food obscene,
Following the accursed armies, whom too well
They knowtheir purveyors long. Pursue their march,
Ominous attendants! Ere the moon hath filled
Her horns, these purveyors shall become the prey,
And ye on Moorish not on Christian flesh
Wearying your beaks, shall clog you scaly feet
With foreign gore. Soon will ye learn to know,
Followers and harbingers ofblood, the flag
Of Leon where it bids you to your feast!
Terror and Flight shall with that flag go forth,
And Havoc and the Dogs of War and Death.
Thou Covadonga with the tainted stream
OfDeva, and this now-rejoicing vale,
Soon its primitial triumphs wilt behold!
 138
Nor shall the glories ofthe noon be less
Than such miraculous promise of the dawn:
Witness Clavijo where the dreadful cry
Of Santiago, then first heard, o'erpower'd
The Akbar, and that holier name blasphemed
By misbelieving lips! Simancas thou
Be witness! And do ye your recordbear,
Tolosan mountains, where the Almohade
Beheld his myriads scattered and destroyed,
Like locusts swept before the stormy North!
Thou too, Salado, on that later day
When Africa received her finalfoil,
And thy swoln stream incarnadined, roll'd back
The invaders to the deep, ...there shall they toss
Till on their native Mauritanian shore
The waves shall cast their bones to whiten there.

を
royin uthus inh
 Rod & Rusilla

XIX.

WHEN all had been perform'd, the royal Goth

Look'd up toward the chamber in the tower,
Where, gazing on the multitude below,
Alone Rusilla stood. He met her eye,
For it was singling him amid the crowd;
Obeying then the hand which beckon'd him,
He went with heart prepared, nor shrinking now,
But arm'd with self- approving thoughts that hour.
Entering, in tremulous haste, he closed the door,
And turn'd to clasp her knees; but lo, she spread
Her arms, and catching him in close embrace,
Fell on his neck, and cried, My Son, my Son! ...
Ere long, controlling that first agony,
With effort of strong will, backward she bent,
And gazing on his head now shorn and grey,
And on his furrow'd countenance, exclaim'd,
Still, still, my Roderick! the same noble mind!
The same heroic heart! Still, still, my Son! ...
Changed,.. yet not wholly fall'n, .. not wholly lost,
He cried,.. not wholly in the sight of Heaven
Unworthy, O my Mother, nor in thine!
She lock'd her arms again around his neck,
Saying, Lord let me nowdepart in peace!
And bow'd her head again, and silently
Gave way to tears.
When that first force was past,
And passion in exhaustment found relief,..
I knew thee, said Rusilla, when the dog
Rose from my feet, and lick'd his master's hand.
All flash'd upon me then; the instinctive sense
 140
That goes unerringly where reason fails,.
The voice, the eye,..a mother's thoughts are quick; ….
Miraculous as it seem'd, .. Siverian's tale, ....
Florinda's, .. every action .. every word, ...
Each strengthening each, and all confirming all,
Reveal'd thee, O my Son! But I restrain'd
My heart, and yielded to thy holier will
The thoughts which rose to tempt a soul not yet
Wean'd wholly from the world.
What thoughts? replied
Roderick ... That I might see thee yet again
Such as thou wert, she answer'd; not alone u b'doc_I
To Heaven and me restored, but to thyself,...
Thy Crown, thy Country, .. all within thy reach;
Heaven so disposing all things, that the means
Which wrought the ill, might work the remedy. J
Methought I saw thee once again the hope, ... **
The strength, .. the pride of Spain! The miracle
Which I beheld made all things possible.and
I know the inconstant people, how their mind, bnA/
With every breath of good or ill report, ze wil
Fluctuates, like summer corn before the breeze: Med
Quick in their hatred, quicker in their love, to shif
Generous and hasty, soon would they redress dilw
All wrongs of former obloquy ...I thought ay ban fe
Of happiness restored, ..the broken hearted to beky
Heal'd, .. and Count Julian, for his daughter's sake,
Turning in thy behalf against the Moors seus al
His powerful sword: .. all possibilities.wo
That could be found or fancied, built a dream poi
Before me; such as easiest might illuded fan -fa
A lofty spirit train'd in palaces, ga ise yol deel mid
And not alone amid the flatteries bied quiqnd
Ofyouth with thoughts of high ambition fedd brid
When all is sunshine, but through years of woe, udi
When sorrow sanctified their use, upheld
By honourable pride and earthly hopes. ang bak
I thought I yet might nurse upon my kneeds wand £
Some young Theodofred, and see in him moi
Thy father's image and thine own renew'd, bideak
 141
And love to think the little hand which there
Play'd with the bauble, should in after days
Wield the transmitted sceptre; .. that through him
The ancient seed should be perpetuate, ...
That precious seed revered so long, desired
So dearly, and so wonderously preserved.
2
Nay, he replied, Heaven hath not with its bolts
Scath'd the proud summit of the tree, and left
The trunk unflaw'd; ne'er shall it clothe its boughs
Again, nor push again its scyons forth,
Head, root, and branch, all mortified alike! ...
Long ere these locks were shorn had I cut off
The thoughts of royalty! Time might renew
Their length, as for Manoah's captive son,
And I too on the miscreant race, like him,
Might prove my strength regenerate; but the hour,
When in its second best nativity,
My soul was born again through grace, this heart
Died to the world. Dreams such as thine pass now
Like evening clouds before me; ifI think
How beautiful they seem, 'tis but to feel gi
How soon they fade, how fast the night sluts in.
But in that World to which my hopes look on,
Time enters not, nor Mutability;
Beauty and Goodness are unfading there;
Whatever there is given us to enjoy,
That we enjoy for ever, still the same ...
Much might Count Julian's sword achieve for Spain
And me; but more will his dear daughter's soul
Effect in Heaven; and soon will she be there
An Angel at the Throne of Grace, to plead
In his behalf and mine.
I knew thy heart,
She answer'd, and subdued the vain desire.
It was the World's last effort. Thou hast chosen
The better part. Yea, Roderick, even on earth
There is a praise above the monarch's fame,
A higher, holier, more enduring praise,
And this will yet be thine!
 142
Oh tempt me not, oned
Mother! he cried; nor let ambition take
That specious form to cheat us! What but this,
Fallen as I am, have I to offer Heaven?
The ancestral sceptre, public fame, content
Ofprivate life, the general good report,
Power, reputation, happiness, .. whate'er
The heart ofman desires to constitute
His earthly weal .. unerring Justice claim'd
In forfeiture. I with submitted soul
Bowto the righteous law and kiss the rod.
Only while thus submitted, suffering thus, ..
Only while offering up that name on earth,
Perhaps in trial offered to my choice,
Could I present myselfbefore thy sight: a
Thus only could endure myself, or fix THUR
My thoughts upon that fearful pass, where Death
Stands in the Gate of Heaven! .. Time passes on,arvest
'The healing work of sorrow is complete;
All vain desires have long been weeded out, mis ol 20-40
All vain regrets subdued; the heart is dead,panaysakit
The soul is ripe and eager for her birth.
Bless me, my Mother! and come when it willers &
The inevitable hour, we die in peace.
So saying, on her knees he bow'd his head; bets adorne
She raised her hands to Heaven and blest her child;
Then bending forward, as he rose, embraced
And claspt him to her heart, and cried, Once more,
Theodofred, with pride behold thy son!
 The Marrish Camp.

XX.

THE times are big with tidings; every hour

From east and west and south the breathless scout's
Bring swift alarums in; the gathering foe,
Advancing from all quarters to one point,
Close their wide crescent. Nor was aid of fear
To magnify their numbers needed now:
They came in myriads. Africa had pour'd
Fresh shoals upon the coast of wretched Spain;
Lured from their hungry deserts to the scene
Of spoil, like vultures to the battle-field,
Fierce, unrelenting, habited in crimes,
Like bidden guests the mirthful ruffians flock
To that free feast which in their Prophet's name
Rapine and Lust proclaim'd. Nor were the chiefs
of victory less assured, by long success
Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength,
Which, surely they believed, as it had roll'd
Thus far uncheck'd, would roll victorious on,
Till, like the Orient, the subjected West
Should bow in reverence at Mahommed's name;
And pilgrims, from remotest Arctic shores,
Tread with religious feet the burning sands
OfAraby and Mecca's stony soil.
Proud ofhis part in Roderick's overthrow,
Their leader Abulcacem came, a man
Immitigable, long in war renown'd.
Here Magued comes, who on the conquer'd walls
Of Cordoba by treacherous fear betray'd,
Planted the moony standard: Ibrahim here,
He, who by Genil and in Darro's vales,
 144
Had for the Moors the fairest portion won
Of all their spoils, fairest and best maintain❜d,
And to the Alpuxarras given in trust
His other name, through them preserved in song:
"Here too Alcahman, vaunting his late deeds
At Auria, all her children by the sword
Cut off, her bulwarks rased, her towers laid low,
Her dwellings by devouring flames consumed.
Bloody and hard of heart, he little ween'd,
Vain boastful chief! that from those fatal flames
The fire of retribution had gone forth
Which soon should wrap him round.
The renegades
Here too were seen, Ebba and Sisibert;
A spurious brood, but of their parents' crimes
True heirs, in guilt begotten, and in ill
Train'd up. The same unnatural rage that turn'd
Their swords against their country, made them seek,
Unmindful of their wretched mother's end,
Pelayo's life. No enmity is like
Domestic hatred! For his blood they thirst,
As if that sacrifice might satisty
Witiza's guilty ghost, efface the shame
Of their adulterous birth, and, one crime more
Crowning a hideous course, emancipate
Thenceforth their spirits from all earthly fear.
This was their only care; but other thoughts
Were rankling in that elder villain's mind,
Their kinsman Orpas, he of all the crew
Whoin this fatal visitation fell,
The foulest and the falsest wretch that e'er
Renounced his baptism. From his cherish'd views
Ofroyalty cut off, he coveted
Count Julian's wide domains, and hopeless now
To gain them through the daughter, laid his toils
Against the father's life, ... the instrument
Ofhis ambition first, and now design'd
1ts victim. To this end with cautious hints,
At favouring season ventured, he possess'd
The leader's mind; then, subtly fostering
 145
The doubts himself had sown, with bolder charge
He bade him warily regard the Count,
Lest underneath an outward show of faith
The heart uncircumcised were Christian still:
Else, wherefore had Florinda not obey'd
Her dear-loved sire's example, and embraced
The saving truth? Else, wherefore was her hand,
Plighted to him so long, so long withheld,
Till she had found a fitting hour to fly
With that audacious Prince, who now in arms
Defied the caliph's power; ... for who could doubt
That in his company she fled, perhaps
The mover of his flight? What ifthe Count
Himself had plann'd the evasion which he feign'd
In sorrow to condemn? What ifshe went
A pledge assured, to tell the mountaineers
That when they met the Musslemen in the heat
of fight, her father passing to their side
Would draw the victory with him? ... Thus he
breathed
Fiend-like in Abulcacem's ear his schemes
Of murderous malice; and the course of things,
Ere long, in part approving his discourse,
Aided his aim, and gave his wishes weight.
For scarce on the Asturian territory
Had they set foot, when with the speed offear,
Count Eudon, nothing doubting that their force
Would like a flood sweep all resistance down,
Hasten'd to plead his merits; ... he alone
Found faithful in obedience through reproach
And danger, when the madden'd multitude
Hurried their chiefs along, and high and low
With one infectious frenzy seized, provoked
The invincible in arms. Pelayo led
The raging crew, ... he doubtless the prime spring
Ofall these perilous movements; and 'twas said
He brought the assurance of a strong support,
Count Julian's aid, for in his company
From Cordoba, Count Julian's daughter came.
Thus Eudon spake before the assembled chiefs,
 146

When instantly a stern and wrathful voice

Replied, I know Pelayo never made
That senseless promise! he who raised the tale
Lies foully; but the bitterest enemy
That ever hunted for Pelayo's life
Hath never with the charge offalsehood touch'd
His name.
The Baron had not recognized
Till then, beneath the turban's shadowing folds,
Julian's swart visage, where the fiery suns
Of Africa, through many a year's long course,
Had set their hue inburnt. Something he sought
In quick excuse to say of common fame,
Lightly believed and busily diffused,
And that no enmity had moved his speech
Repeating rumour's tale. Julian replied,
Count Eudon, neither for thyself nor me
Excuse is needed here. The path I tread
Is one wherein there can be no return,
No pause, no looking back! A choice like mine
For time and for eternity is made,
Once and for ever! and as easily
Th breath
Thee thr ofvain
one wh ich report might build again
myjust vengeance overthrew,
As in the Caliph and his captains ' mind
n
Affect the opinio ofmy well-tried truth .
The tidings which thou givest me of my child
Touch me more vitally; bad though they be,
A secret apprehension ofaught worse
Makes me with joy receive them.
Then the Count
To Abulcacem turn'd his speech, and said,
I pray thee, Chief, give me a messenger
By whom I may to this unhappy child
Dispatch a father's bidding, such as yet
May win her back. What I would say requires
No veil of privacy: before ye all
The errand shall be given."
Boldly he spake,
Yet waryin that show ofopen truth,
For, well heknew what dangers girt him round
 147
Amid the faithless race. Blind with revenge,
For them in madness had he sacrificed
His name, his baptism , and his native land,
To feel, still powerful as he was, that life
Hung on their jealous favour. But his heart
Approved him now, where love, too long restrain'd,
Resumed its healing influence, leading him
Right on with no misgiving. Chiefs, he said,
Hear me, and let your wisdom judge between
Me and Prince Orpas! ... Known it is to all,
Too well, what mortal injury provoked
My spirit to that vengeance which your aid
So signally hath given. A covenant
We made whenfirst our purpose we combined,
That he should have Florinda for his wife,
My only child, so should she be, I thought,
Revenged and honour'd best. My word was given
Truly, nor did I cease to use all means
Of counsel or command, entreating her
Sometimes with tears, and oft with menaces
Ofdirest anger and a father's curse,
To lead her to obey. The Christian law,
She said, forbade, and she had vow'd herself
A servant to the Lord. In vain I strove
To win her to the Prophet's saving faith,
Using, perhaps, a rigour to that end
Beyond permitted means, and to my heart,
Which loved her dearer than its own life-blood,
Abhorrent. Silently she suffered all,
Or when I urged her with most vehemence,
Only replied, I knew her fix'd resolve,
And craved my patience but a little while
Till death should set her free. Touch'd as I was,
I yet persisted, till at length, to escape
The ceaseless importunity, she fled;
And verily I fear'd until this hour,
My rigour to some fearfuller resolve
Than flight had driven my child. Chiefs, I appeal
To each and all, and, Orpas, to thyself
Especially, if, having thus essay'd
 148
All means that law and nature have allow'd
To bend her will, I may not rightfully
Hold myselffree, that promise being void
Which cannot be fulfill'd.
Thou sayest then,
Orpas replied, that from her false belief
Her stubborn opposition drew its force.
I should have thought that from the ways corrupt
Ofthese idolatrous Christians, little care
Might have sufficed to wean a duteous child,
The example of a parent so beloved
Leading the way; and yet I will not doubt
Thou didst enforce with all sincerity
And holy zeal upon thy daughter's mind
The truths ofIslam.
Julian knit his brow,
And scowling on the insidious renegade,
He answer'd, By what reasoning my poor mind
Was from the old idolatry reclaim'd,
None better knows than Seville's mitred chief,
Who first renouncing errors which he taught,
Led me his follower to the Prophet's pale.
Thy lessons I repeated as I could,
Ofgraven images, unnatural vows,
False records, fabling creeds, and juggling priests,
Who, making sanctity the cloak ofsin,
Laugh'd at the fools on whose credulity
They fatten'd. To these arguments, whose worth
Prince Orpas, least of all men, should impeach,
I added, like a soldier bred in arms,
And to the subtleties ofschools unused,
The flagrant fact, that Heaven with victory,
Where'er they turn'd, attested and approved
The chosen Prophet's arms. Ifthou wert still
The mitred metropolitan, and Indones
Some wretch of Arian or of Hebrew race,
Thy proper business then might be to pry,
And question me for lurking flaws of faith.
We Musslemen, Prince Orpas, live beneath
A wiser law, which with the iniquities
 149
Of thine old craft, hath abrogated this
Its foulest practice!
As Count Julian ceased,
From underneath his black and gathered brow
There went a look, which with these wary words
Bore to the heart ofthat false renegade
Their whole envenom'd meaning. Haughtily
Withdrawing then his alter'd eyes, he said,
Too much of this! Return we to the sum
Of my discourse. Let Abulcacem say,
In whom the Caliph speaks, ifwith all faith
Having essay'd in vain all means to win
My child's consent. I may not hold henceforth
The covenant discharged.
The Moor replied,
Well hast thou said, and rightly may'st assure
Thy daughter that the Prophet's holy law
Forbids compulsion. Give thine errand now;
The messenger is here.
Then Julian said,
Go to Pelayo, and from him entreat
Admittance to my child, where'er she be.
Say to her, that her father.solemnly
Annuls the covenant with Orpas pledged,
Nor with solicitations, nor with threats,
Will urge her more, nor from that liberty
Offaith restrain her, which the Prophet's law
Liberal as Heaven from whence it came, to all
Indulges. Tell her that her father says
His days are number'd, and beseeches her
By that dear love, which from her infancy
Still he hath borne her, growing as she grew,
Nursed in our weal, and strengthen'd in our woe,
She will not in the evening of his life,
Leave him forsaken and alone. Enough
Ofsorrow, tell her, have her injuries
Brought on her father's head; let not her act
7
Thus aggravate the burthen. Tell her too,
That when he pray'd her to return, he wept
Profusely as a child; but bitterer tears
 150
Than ever fell from childhood's eyes, were those
Which traced his hardy checks.
Withfaultering voice
He spake, and after he had ceased from speech
His lip was quivering still. The Moorish chief
Then to the messenger his bidding gave.
Say, cried he, to these rebel infidels,
Thus Abulcacem in the Caliph's name
Exhorteth them; Repent and be forgiven!
Nor think to stop the dreadful storm ofwar,
Which conquering and to conquer must fulfil
Its destined circle, rolling eastward now
Back from the subjugated west, to sweep
Thrones and dominions down, till in the bond
Of unity all nations join, and Earth
Acknowledge, as she sees one sun in heaven,
One God, one Chief, one Prophet, and one Law.
Jerusalem, the holy City, bows
To holier Mecca's creed; the crescent shines
Triumphant o'er the eternal pyramids;
On the cold altars ofthe worshippers
Offire moss grows, and reptiles leave their slime;
The African idolatries are fallen,
And Europe's senseless gods of stone and wood
Have had their day. Tell these misguided men,
A moment for repentance yet is left,
And mercy the submitted neck will spare
Before the sword is drawn; but once unsheath'd,
Let Auria witness howthat dreadful sword
Accomplishes its work! They little know
The Moors who hope in battle to withstand
Their valour, or in flight escape their rage!
Amid our deserts we hunt down the birds
Ofheaven, .. wings do not save them! Nor shall rocks,
And holds, and fastnesses, avail to save
These mountaineers. Is not the Earth the Lord's?
And we, his chosen people whom he sends
To conquer and possess it in his name?
 TheFountain in the Fore

XXI.

THE second eve had closed upon their march

Within the Asturian border, and the Moors
Had pitch'd their tents amid an open wood
Upon the mountain side. As day grew dim,
Their scatter'd fires shone with distincter light
Among the trees, above whose top the smoke
Diffused itself, and stain'd the evening sky.
Ere long the stir of occupation ceased,
And all the murmur ofthe busy host
Subsiding died away, as through the camp
The crier from a knoll proclaim'd the hour
For prayer appointed, and with sonorous voice,
Thrice in melodious modulation full
Pronounced the highest name. There is no God
But God, he cried; there is no God but God!
Mahommed is the Prophet ofthe Lord!
Come ye to prayer! to prayer! The Lord is great!
There is no God but God!.. Thus he pronounced
His ritual form, mingling with holiest truth
The audacious name accurst. The multitude
Made their ablutions in the mountain stream
Obedient, then their faces to the earth
Bent in formality ofeasy prayer.
An arrow's flight above that mountain stream
There was a little glade, where underneath
A long smooth mossy stone a fountain rose.
An oak grew near, and with its ample boughs
O'ercanopied the spring; its fretted roots
Emboss'd the bank, and on their tufted bark
 152
Grew plants which love the moisture and the shade
Short ferns, and longer leaves of wrinkled green
Which bent toward the spring, and when the wind
Made itselffelt, just touch'd with gentle, dip
The glassy surface, ruffled ne'er but then,
Save when a bubble rising from the depth
Burst, and with faintest circles mark'd its place,
Or ifan insect skimm'd it with its wing,
Or when in heavier drops the gathered rain
Fell from the oak's high bower. The mountain roe,
When, having drank there, he would boundacross,
Drew up upon the bank his meeting feet,
And put forth half his force. With silent lapse
From thence through mossy banks the water stole,
Then murmuring hastened to the glen below.
Diana might have loved in that sweet spot
To take her noontide rest; and when she stoopt
Hot from the chase to drink, well pleased had seen
Her own bright crescent, and the brighter face
It crown'd, reflected there.
Beside that spring
Count Julian's tent was pitch'd upon the green;
There his ablutions Moor-like he had made,
And Moor-like knelt in prayer, bowing his head
Upon the mossy bank. There was a sound
Of voices at the tent when he arose;
And lo! with hurried step a woman came
Toward him; rightly then his heart presaged,
And ere he could behold her countenance,
Florinda knelt, and with uplifted arms
Embraced her sire. He raised her from the ground,
Kiss'd her, and claspt her to his heart, and said,
Thou hast not then forsaken me, my child;
Howe'er the inexorable will of Fate
May in the world which is to come divide
Our everlasting destinies, in this
Thou wilt not, O my child, abandon me!
And then with deep and interrupted voice,
Nor seeking to restrain his copious tears,
My blessing be upon thy head, he cried,
 153
A father's blessing! Though all faiths were false,
It should not lose its worth! ... She lock'd her hands
Around his neck, and gazing in his face
Through streaming tears, exclaim'd, Oh never more,
Here or hereafter, never let us part!
And breathing then a prayer in silence forth,
The name of Jesus trembled on her tongue.
Whom hast thou there? cried Julian, and drew back,
Seeing that near them stood a meagre man
In humble garb, who rested with raised hands
On a long staff, bending his head, like one
Who, when he hears the distant vesper-bell,
Halts by the way, and, all unseen of men,
Offers his homage in the eye of Heaven.
She answer'd, let not my dear father frown
In anger on his child! Thy messenger
Told me that I should be restrain'd no more
From liberty offaith, which the new law
Indulged to all: how soon my hour might come
I knew not, and although that hour will bring
Few terrors, yet methinks I would not be
Without a Christian comforter in death.
A Priest! exclaim'd the Count, and drawing back,
Stoopt for his turban, that he might not lack
Some outward symbol of apostacy;
For still in war his wonted arms he wore,
Nor for the scymitar had changed the sword
Accustom'd to his hand. He cover'd now
His short grey hair, and under the white folds
His swarthy brow, which gathered as he rose,
· Darken'd. Oh frown not thus! Florinda cried,
A kind and gentle counsellor is this,
One who pours balm into a wounded soul,
And mitigates the griefs he cannot heal.
I told him I had vow'd to pass my days
A servant ofthe Lord, yet that my heart,
Hearing the message ofthy love, was drawn
With powerful yearnings back. Follow thy heart..
G2
 154
It answers to the call of duty here,
He said, nor canst thou better serve the Lord
Than at thy father's side.
Count Julian's brow,
While thus she spake, insensibly relax'd.
A Priest, cried he, and thus with even hand
Weigh vows and natural duty in the scale!
In what old heresy hath he been train'd?
Or in what wilderness hath he escaped
The domineering Prelate's fire and sword?
Come hither, man, and tell me who thou art!
A sinner, Roderick, drawing nigh, replied;
Brought to repentance by the grace of God,
And trusting for forgiveness through the blood
Of Christ in humble hope.
A smile of scorn
Julian assumed, but merely from the lips
It came; for he was troubled while he gazed
On the strong countenance and thoughtful eye
Before him. A new law hath been proclaim'd,
Said he, which overthrows in its career
The Christian altars of idolatry.
What think'st thou ofthe Prophet? Roderick
Made answer, I am in the Moorish camp,
And he who asketh is a Mussleman.
How then should I reply? ... Safely, rejoin'd
The renegade, and freely may'st thou speak
To all that Julian asks. Is not the yoke
Of Mecca easy, and its burthen light?....
Spain hath not found it so, the Goth replied,
And, groaning, turn'd awayhis countenance.
Count Julian knit his brow, and stood awhile
Regarding him with meditative eye
In silence. Thou art honest too! he cried;
Why 'twas in quest of such a man as this
That the old Grecian search'd by lanthorn light
In open day the city's crowded streets,
So rare he deem'd the virtue. Honesty
 155
And sense ofnatural duty in a Priest!
Now for a miracle, ye Saints of Spain!
I shall not pry too closely for the wires,
For, seeing what I see, ye have me now
In the believing mood!
O blessed Saints,
Florinda cried, 'tis from the bitterness,
Notfrom the hardness of the heart, he speaks!
Hear him! and in your goodness give the scoff
The virtue of a prayer! So saying, she raised
Her hands in fervent action claspt to heaven;
Then as, still claspt, they fell, toward her sire
Shé turn'd her eyes, beholding him through tears.
The look, the gesture, and that silent woe,
Soften❜d her father's heart, which in this hour
Was open to the influences of love.
Priest, thy vocation were a blessed one,
Said Julian, if its mighty power were used
To lessen human misery, not to swell
The mournful sum, already all-too-great.
If, as thy former counsel should imply,
Thou art not one who would for his eraft's sake
Fret with corrosives and inflame the wound,
Which the poor sufferer brings to thee in trust,
That thou with virtuous balm wilt bind it up,
If, as I think, thou art not one ofthose
Whose villainy makes honest men turn Moors,
Thou then wilt answerwith unbiass'd mind
What I shall ask thee, and exorcise thus
The sick and feverish conscience of my child,
From inbred phantoms, fiendlike, which possess
Her innocent spirit. Children we are all
Ofone great Father, in whatever clinie
Nature or chance hath cast the seeds of life,
All tongues, all colours: neither after death
Shall we be sorted into languages
And tints, ... white, black, and tawny, Greek and
Goth,
Northmen and offspring ofhot Africa;
The All-Father, he in whom we live and move,
 156
He the indifferent Judge ofall, regards
Nations, and hues, and dialects alike.
According to their works shall they be judged,
When even-handed Justice in the scale
Their good and evil weighs. All creeds, I ween,
Agree in this, and hold it orthodox.
Roderick, perceiving here that Julian paused
As ifhe waited for acknowledgment
Of that plain truth, in motion of assent
Inclined his brow complacently, and said,
Even so. What follows? ... This, resumed the Count,
That creeds like colours being but accident,
Are therefore in the scale imponderable; .....
Thou seest my meaning; .. .. that from every faith
As every clime, there is a way to Heaven,
And thou and may meet in Paradise.
Oh grant it God! cried Roderick fervently,
And smote his breast. Oh grant it, gracious God!
Through the dear blood of Jesus, grant that he
And I may meet before the Mercy-Throne!
That were a triumph of Redeeming Love,
For which admiring Angels would renew
Their halleluiahs through the choir of Heaven!
Man! quoth Count Julian, wherefore art thou moved
To this strange passion? I require ofthee
Thy judgment, not thy prayers!
Be not displeased!
In gentle voice subdued the Goth replies;
A prayer, from whatsover lips it flow,
By thine own rule should find the way to heaven,
So that the heart in its sincerity
Straight forward breathe it forth. I, like thyself,
Am all untrain'd to subtleties of speech,
Nor competent ofthis great argument
Thou openest; and perhaps shall answer thee
Wide of the words, but to the purport home.
There are to whom the light ofgospel truth
 157
Hath never reach'd; ofsuch I needs must deem
As ofthe sons of men who had their day
Before the light was given. But, Count, for those
Who, born amid the light, to darkness turn,
Wilful in error, ... I dare only say,
God doth not leave the unhappy soul without
An inward monitor, and till the grave
Open, the gate ofmercy is not closed.
Priest-like! the renegade replied, and shook
His head in scorn. What is not in the craft
Is error, and for error there shall be
No mercy found in him whom yet ye name
The merciful!
Now God forbid, rejoin'd
The fallen King, that one who stands in need
Ofmercy for his sins should argue thus
Of error! Thou hast said that thou and I,
Thou dying in name a Mussleman, and I
A servant of the Cross, may meet in Heaven.
Time was when in our fathers' ways we walk'd
Regardlessly alike; faith being to each,.
For so far thou hast reason'd rightly, .. like
Our country's fashion and our mother-tongue,
Ofmere inheritance,....no thing of choice
In judgment fix'd, nor rooted in the heart.
Me have the arrows of calamity
Sore stricken; sinking underneath the weight
Of sorrow, yet more heavily opprest
Beneath the burthen of my sins, I turn'd
In that dread hour to Him who from the Cross
Calls to the heavy-laden. There I found
Reliefand comfort; there I have my hope,
My strength and my salvation; there the grave
Ready beneath my feet, and heaven in view,
I to the King of Terrors say, Come, Death, ...
Come quickly! Thou too wert a stricken deer,
Julian, ... God pardon the unhappy hand
That wounded thee! ... but whitherdidst thou go
For healing? Thou hast turn'd away from Him,
 158
Who saith, Forgive, as ye would be forgiven;
And that the Moorish sword might do thy work,
Received the creed of Mecca: with what fruit
For Spain, let tell her cities sack'd, her sons
Slaughter'd, her daughters than thine own dear child
More foully wrong'd, more wretched! For thyself,
Thou hast had thy fill ofvengeance, and perhaps
The cup was sweet: but it hath left behind
A bitter relish! Gladly would thy soul
Forget the past; as little canst thou hear
To send into futurity thy thoughts;
And for this Now, what is it, Count, but fear .
However bravely thou may'st bear thy front,
Danger, remorse, and stinging obloquy?
One only hope, one only remedy,
One only refuge yet remains ... My life
Is at thy mercy, Count! Call, if thou wilt,
Thy men, and to the Moors deliver me!
Or strike thyself! Death were from any hand
A welcome gift; from thine, and in this cause,
A boon indeed! My latest words on earthwood
Should tell thee that all sins may be effaced,
Bid thee repent, have faith, and be forgiven!
Strike, Julian, ifthou wilt, and send my soul
To intercede for thine, that we may meet,
Thou and thy child and I, beyond the grave!
Thus Roderick spake, and spread his arms as if
He offer'd to the sword his willing breast,
With looks ofpassionate persuasion fix'd
Upon the Count; who in his first access
Ofanger seem'd as though he would have call'd
His guards to seize the Priest. The attitude
Disarm'd him, and that fervent zeal sincere,
And, more than both, the look and voice, which like
A mystery troubled him. Florinda too
Hung on his arm with both her hands, and cried,
O father, wrong him not! he speaks from God!
Life and Salvation are upon his tongue!
Judge thou the value ofthat faith whereby,
 159
Reflecting on the past, I murmur not,
And to the end of all look on with joy
Ofhope assured!
Peace, innocent! replied
The Count, and from her hold withdrew his arm.
Then, with a gathered brow ofmournfulness
Rather than wrath, regarding Roderick, said,
Thou preachest that all sins may be effaced:
Is there forgiveness, Christian, in thy creed
For Roderick's crime? ... For Roderick and for thee,
Count Julian, said the Goth, and as he spake
Trembled through every fibre ofhis frame,
The gate of Heaven is open. Julian threw
His wrathful hand aloft, and cried, Away!
Earth could not hold us both, nor can one Heaven
Contain my deadliest enemy and me!
My father, say not thus! Florinda cried;
I have forgiven him! I have pray'd for him!
For him, for thee, and for myself I pour
One constant prayer to Heaven! In passion then
She knelt, and bending back, with arms and face
Raised toward the sky, the supplicant exclaim'd,
Redeemer, heal his heart! It is the grief
Which festers there that hath bewilder'd him!
Save him, Redeemer! by thy precious death
Save, save him, O my God! Then on her face
She fell, and thus with bitterness pursued
In silent throes her agonizing prayer.
Afflict not thus thyself, my child, the Count
Exclaim'd; O dearest, be thou comforted;
Set but thy heart at rest, I ask no more!
Peace, dearest, peace! ... and weeping as he spake,
He knelt to raise her. Roderick also knelt;
Be comforted, he cried, and rest in faith
That God will hear thy prayers! they must be heard!
Hewho could doubt the worth of prayers like thine
May doubt of all things! Sainted as thou art
In sufferings here, this miracle will be
Thy work and thy reward!
 160
Then raising her,
They seated her upon the fountain's brink,
And there beside her sate. The moon had risen,
And that fair spring lay blacken'd half in shade,
Half like a burnished mirror in her light.
By that reflected light Count Julian saw
That Roderick's face was bathed with tears, and pale
As monumental marble. Friend, said he,
Whether thy faith be fabulous, or sent
Indeed from Heaven, its dearest gift to man,
Thy heart is true; and had the mitred Priest
Of Seville been like thee, or hadst thou held
The place he filled; ... but this is idle talk,....
Things are as they will be; and we, poor slaves,
Fret in the harness as we may, must drag
The car of Destiny where'er she drives,
Inexorable and blind!
Oh wretched man!
Cried Roderick, if thou seekest to assuage
Thy wounded spirit with that deadly drug,
Hell's subtlest venom! Look to thine own heart,
Where thou hast Will and Conscience to belie
Thisjuggling sophistry, and lead thee yet
Through penitence to Heaven!
Whate'er it be
That governs us, in mournful tone the Count
Replied, Fate, Providence, or Allah's will,
Or reckless Fortune, still the effect the same,
A World of evil and of misery!
Look where we will we meet it; wheresoe'er
We go we bear it with us. Here we sit
Upon the margin of this peaceful spring,
And oh what volumes of calamity
Would be unfolded here, if either heart
Laid open its sad records! Tell me not
Of goodness! Either in some freak ofpower
This frame of things was fashion'd, then cast off
To take its own wild course, the sport of chance;
Or the Bad Spirit o'er the Good prevails,
And in the eternal conflict hath arisen
Lord ofthe ascendant!
 161
Rightly would'st thou say
Were there no world but this! the Goth replied.
The happiest child of earth that e'er was mark'd
To be the minion ofprosperity,
Richest in corporal gifts and wealth of mind,
Honour and fame attending him abroad,
Peace and all dear domestic joys at home,
And sunshine till the evening ofhis days
Closed in without a cloud, ... even such a man
Would from the gloom and horror of his heart
Confirm thy fatal thought, were this world all!
Oh who could bear the haunting mystery,
Ifdeath and retribution did not solve
The riddle, and to heavenliest harmony
Reduce the seeming chaos! .... Here we see
The water at its well-head; clear it is,
Not more transpicuous the invisible air;
Pure as an infant's thoughts; and here to life
And good directed all its uses serve.
The herb grows greener on its brink; sweet flowers
Bend o'er the stream that feeds their freshen'd roots;
The red-breast loves it for his wintry haunts;
And when the buds begin to open forth,
Builds near it with his mate their brooding nest:
The thirsty stag with widening nostrils there
Invigorated draws his copious draught;
And there amid its flags the wild-boar stands,
Nor suffering wrong nor meditating hurt.
Through woodlands wild and solitary fields
Unsullied thus it holds its bounteous course;
But when it reaches the resorts of men,
The service ofthe city there defiles
The tainted stream; corrupt and foul it flows
Through loathsome banks and o'er a bed impure,
Till in the sea, the appointed end to which
Through all its way it hastens, ' tis received,
And, losing all pollution, mingles there
In the wide world ofwaters. So it is
With the great stream of things, ifall were seen;
Good the beginning, good the end shall be,
 162

And transitory evil only make

The good end happier. Ages pass away,
Thrones fall, and nations disappear, and worlds
Grow old and go to wreck; the soul alone
Endures, and what she chuseth for herself,
The arbitrer of her own destiny,
That only shall be permanent.
1 But guilt,
And all our sufferings? said the Count. The Goth
Replied, Repentance taketh sin away,
Death remedies the rest.... Sooth'd by the strain
Of such discourse, Julian was silent then,
And sate contemplating. Florinda too
Was calm'd: If sore experience may be thought
To teach the uses of adversity,
She said, alas! who better learn'd than I
In that sad school! Methinks ifye would know
How visitations of calamity
Affect the pious soul, 'tis shown ye there!
Look yonder at that cloud, which through the sky
Sailing alone, doth cross in her career
The rolling moon! I watch'd it as it came,
And deem'd the deep opake would blot her beams;
But, melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs
In folds ofwavy silver round, and clothes
The orb with richer beauties than her own,
Then passing, leaves her in her light serene.
Thus having said, the pious sufferer sate,
Beholding with fix'd eyes that lovely orb,
Till quiet tears confused in dizzy light
The broken moonbeams. They too by the toil
Of spirit, as by travail ofthe day
Subdued, were silent, yielding to the hour.
The silver cloud diffusing slowly past,
And now into its airy elements
Resolved is gone; while through the azure depth
Alone in heaven the glorious Moon pursues
Her course appointed, with indifferent beams
Shining upon the silent hills around,
 163
And the dark tents of that unholy host,
Who, all unconscious ofimpending fate,
Take their last slumber there. The camp is still;
The fires have moulder'd, and the breeze which stirs
The soft and snowy embers, just lays bare
At times a red and evanescent light,
Or for a moment wakes a feeble flame.
They by the fountain hear the stream below,
Whose murmurs, as the wind arose or fell,
Fuller or fainter reach the ear attuned.
And now the nightingale, not distant far,
Began her solitary song; and pour'd
To the cold moon a richer, stronger strain
Than that with which the lyric lark salutes
The new-born day. Her deep and thrilling song
Seem'd with its piercing melody to reach
The soul, and in mysterious unison
Blend with all thoughts of gentleness and love.
Their hearts were open to the healing power
Of nature; and the splendour of the night,
The flow of waters, and that sweetest lay
Came to them like a copious evening dew
Falling on vernal herbs which thirst for rain.
 TheMoorish Council

XXII.

THUS they beside the fountain sate, of food

And rest forgetful, when a messenger
Summon'd Count Julian to the Leader's tent.
In council there at that late hour he found
The assembled Chiefs, on sudden tidings call'd
Ofunexpected weight from Cordoba.
Jealous that Abdalazis had assumed
A regal state, affecting in his court
The forms of Gothic sovereignty, the Moors,
Whom artful spirits ofambitious mould
Stirr'd up, had risen against him in revolt:
And he who late had in the Caliph's name
Ruled from the Ocean to the Pyrenees,
A mutilate and headless carcase now,
From pitying hands received beside the road
53 A hasty grave, scarce hidden there from dogs
Aud ravens, nor from wintry rains secure.
She, too, who in the wreck of Spain preserved
Her queenly rank, the wife of Roderick first,
Of Abdalazis after, and to both
Alike unhappy, shared the ruin now
Her counsels had brought on; for she had led
The infatuate Moor, in dangerous vauntery,
Tothese aspiring forms,...so should he gain
Respect and honour from the Musslemen,
She said, and that the obedience ofthe Goths
Followed the sceptre. In an evil hour
She gave the counsel, and in evil hour
He lent a willing ear; the popular rage
Fell onthem both; and they to whomher name
 165
Had been a mark for mockery and reproach,
Shudder'd with human horror at her fate.
Ayub was heading the wild anarchy;
But where the cement of authority
Is wanting, all things there are dislocate:
The mutinous soldiery, by every cry
Ofrumour set in wild career, were driven
By every gust of passion, setting up
One hour, what in the impulse ofthe next
Equally unreasoning, they destroyed: thus all
Was in misrule where uproar gave the law,
And ere from far Damascus they could learn
The Caliph's pleasure, many a moon must pass.
What should be done? should Abulcacem march
To Cordoba, and in the Caliph's name
Assume the power which to his rank in arms
Rightly devolved, restoring thus the reign
Of order? or pursue with quicken'd speed
The end of this great armament, and crush
Rebellion first, then to domestic ills
Apply his undivided mind and force
Victorious? What in this emergency
Was Julian's counsel, Abulcacem ask'd.
Should they accomplish soon their enterprize?
Or would the insurgent infidels prolong
The contest, seeking by protracted war
To weary them, and trusting in the strength
Of these wild hills?
Julian replied, The Chief
Ofthis revolt is wary, resolute,
Ofapproved worth in war: a desperate part
He for himself deliberately hath chosen,
Confiding in the hereditary love
Borne to him by these hardy mountaineers,
A love which his own noble qualities
Have strengthen'd so that every heart is his.
When ye can bring them to the open proof
Ofbattle, ye will find them in his cause
Lavish of life; but well they know the strength
Of their own fastnesses, the mountain paths
 166
Impervious to pursuit, the vantages
Of rock, and pass, and woodland, and ravine;
And hardly will ye tempt them to forego
These natural aids wherein they put their trust
As in their stubborn spirit, each alike
Deem'd by themselves invincible, and so
By Roman found and Goth, .. beneath whose sway
Slowly persuaded rather than subdued
They came, and still through every change retain'd
Their manners obstinate and barbarous speech.
My counsel, therefore, is, that we secure
With strong increase of force the adjacent posts,
And chiefly Gegio, leaving them so mann'd
As may abate the hope of enterprize
Their strength being told. Time in a strife like this
Becomes the ally of those who trust in him:
Make then with Time your covenant. Old feuds
May disunite the chiefs; some may be gain'd
By fair entreaty, others by the stroke
Of nature, or of policy, cut off.
This was the counsel which in Cordoba
I offered Abdalazis: in ill hour
Rejecting it, he sent upon this war
His father's faithful friend! Dark are the ways
Of Destiny! bad I been at his side
Old Musa would not now have mourned his age
Left childless, nor had Ayub dared defy
The Caliph's represented power. The case
Calls for thy instant presence, with the weight
Of thy legitimate authority.
Julian, said Orpas, turning from beneath
His turban to the Count a crafty eye,
Thy daughter is return'd: doth she not bring
Some tidings ofthe movements of the foe?
The Count replied, When child and parent meet
First reconciled from discontents which wrung
The hearts of both, ill should their converse be
Of warlike matters! There hath been no time
For such enquiries, neither should I think
 167
To ask her touching that for which I know
She hath neither eye nor thought.
There was a time,
Orpas with smile malignant thus replied,
When in the progress of the Caliph's arms
Count Julian's daughter had an interest
Which touch'd her nearly! But her turn is served,
And hatred of Prince Orpas may beget
Indifference to the cause. Yet Destiny
Still guideth to the service ofthe faith
The wayward heart ofwoman; for as one
Delivered Roderick to the avenging sword,
So hath another at this hour betray'd
Pelayo to his fall. His sister came
At nightfall to my tent, a fugitive.
She tells me that on learning our approach,
The rebel to a cavern in the hills
Had sent his wife and children, and with them
Those ofhis followers, thinking there conceal'd
They might be safe. She, moved by injuries
Which stung her spirit, on the way escaped,
And for revenge will guide us. In reward
-She asks her brother's forfeiture of lands
In marriage with Numacian: Something too
Touching his life, that for her services
It might be spared, she said; ...
.. an after-thought
To salve decorum, and if conscience wake,
Serve as a sop: but when the sword shall smite
Pelayo and his dangerous race, I ween
That a thin kerchief will dry all the tears
The Lady Guisla sheds!
'Tisthe old taint!
Said Julian mournfully: from her mother's womb
She brought the inbred wickedness which now
In ripe infection blossoms. Woman, woman,
Still to the Goths art thou the instrument
Ofoverthrow; tby virtue and thy vice
Fatal alike to them! •
Say rather, cried
The insidious renegade, that Allah thus
 168
By woman punisheth the idolatry
Ofthose who raise a woman to the rank
Ofgodhead, calling on their Mary's name
With senseless prayers. In vain shall they invoke
Her trusted succour now! like silly birds
By fear betrayed, they fly into the toils!
And this Pelayo, who in lengthen'd war,
Baffling our force, has thought perhaps to reign
Prince ofthe Mountains, when we hold his wife
And offspring at our mercy, must himself
Come to the lure.
Enough: the Leader cried,
This unexpected work of favouring Fate
Opens an easy way to our desires,
And renders farther council needless now.
Great is the Prophet whose protecting power
Goes with the faithful forth! the rebels' days
Are numbered; Allah hath delivered them
Into our hands!
So saying he arose;
The Chiefs withdrew; Orpas alone remain'd
Obedient to his indicated will.
The event, said Abulcacem, hath approved
Thyjudgment in all points; his daughter comes
At the first summons even as thou said'st;
Her errand with the insurgents done, she brings
Their well-concerted project back, a safe
And unsuspected messenger; ... the Moor, .. ...
The shallow Moor, ... must see and not perceive;
Must hear and understand not; yea must bear,
Poor easy fool, to serve their after-mirth,
A part in his own undoing! But just Heaven
With this unlook'd-for incident hath marr'd
Their complots, and the sword shall cut their web
Of treason.
Well, the renegade replied,
Thou knowest Count Julian's spirit, quick in wiles,
In act audacious. Baffled now, he thinks
Either by instant warning to apprize
The rebels of their danger, or preserve
 169
The hostages when fallen into our power,
Till secret craft contrive, or open force
Win their enlargement. Haply too he dreams
Of Cordoba, the avenger and the friend
OfAbdalazis, in that cause to arm
Moor against Moor, preparing for himself
The victory o'er the enfeebled conquerors.
Success in treason hath embolden'd him,
And power but serves him for fresh treachery, false
To Roderick first, and to the Caliph now.
The guilt, said Abulcacem, is confirm'd,
The sentence past; all that is now required
Is to strike sure and safely. He hath with him
A veteran force, devoted to his will,
Whom to provoke were perilous; nor less
Of peril lies there in delay; what course
Between these equal dangers should we steer?
They have been train'd beneath him in the wars
Of Africa, the renegade replied;
Men are they who, from their youth up, have found
Their occupation and their joy in arms;
Indifferent to the cause for which they fight,
But faithful to their leader, who hath won
By license largely given, yet temper'd still
With exercise of firm authority,
Their whole devotion. Vainly should we seek
By proof of Julian's guilt to pacify
Such martial spirits, unto whom all creeds
And countries are alike; but take away
Their head, and forthwith their fidelity
Goes at the market price. The act must be
Sudden and secret; poison is too slow. "
Thus it may best be done: the mountaineers,
Doubtless, ere long will rouse us with some spur
Of sudden enterprize: at such a time
A trusty minister approaching him
May smite him, so that all shall think the spear
Comes from the hostile troops.
H
 170
Right counsellor!
Cried Abulcacem; thou shalt have his lands,
The proper meed of thy fidelity:
His daughter thou may'st take or leave. Go now
And find a faithful instrument to put
Our purpose in effect! And when 'tis done,
The Moor, as Orpas from the tent withdrew,
Muttering pursued, ... look for a like reward
Thyself! that restless head of wickedness
In the grave will brood no treasons. Other babes
Scream when the Devil, as they spring to life,
Infects them with his touch; but thou didst stretch
Thy arms to meet him, and like mother's milk
Suck the congenial evil! Thou hast tried
Both laws, and, were there ought to gain, would prove
A third as readily; but when thy sins
Are weigh'd, 'twill be against an empty scale,
And neither Prophet will avail thee then!
TheVale of Cova doregu

XXIII.

THE camp is stirring, and ere day hath dawn'd

The tents are struck. Early they rise whom hope
Awakens, and they travel fast with whom
She goes companion ofthe way. By noon
Hath Abulcacem in his speed attain'd
The vale of Cangas. Well the trusty scouts
Observehis march, and fleet as mountain roes,
From post to post with instantaneous speed
The warning bear: none else is nigh; the vale
Hath been deserted, and Pelayo's hall
Is open to the foe, who on the tower
Hoist their white signal-flag. In Sella's stream 56
The misbelieving multitude perform,
With hot and hasty hand, their noontide rite,
Then hurryingly repeat the impostor's prayer.
Here they divide; the Chieftain halts with half
The host, retaining Julian and his men,
Whom where the valley widen'd he disposed,
Liable to first attack, that so the deed
Of murder plann'd with Orpas might be done.
The otherforce the Moor Alcahman led,
Whom Guisla guided up Pionia's stream
Eastward to Soto. Ibrahim went with him,
Proud of Granada's snowy heights subdued,
And boasting of his skill in mountain war;
Yet sure he deem'd an easier victory
Awaited him this day. Little, quoth he,
Weens the vain Mountaineer who puts his trust
In dens and rocky fastnesses, how close
Destruction is at hand! Belike he thinks
 172

57 The Humma's happy wings have shadowed him,

And therefore Fate with royalty must crown
His chosen head! Pity the scymitar •
With its rude edge so soon should interrupt
The pleasant dream!
There can be no escape
For those who in the cave seek shelter, cried
Alcahman; yield they must, or from their holes
Like bees we smoke them out. The chief perhaps
May reign awhile King of the wolves and bears,
Till his own subjects hunt him down, or kites
And crows divide what hunger may have left
Upon his ghastly limbs. Happier for him
That destiny should this day to our hands
Deliver him; short would be his sufferings then;
And we right joyfully should in one hour
Behold our work accomplished , and his race
Extinct.
Thus these in mockery and in thoughts
Ofbloody triumph, to the future blind,
Indulged the scornful vein; nor deem'd that they
Whom to the sword's unsparing edge they doom'd,
Even then injoyful expectation pray'd
To Heaven for their approach, and, at their post
Prepared, were trembling with excess ofhope.
Here in these mountain straits the Mountaineer
Had felt his country's strength insuperable;
Here he had pray'd to see the Mussleman
With all his myriads; therefore had he look'd
To Covadonga as a sanctuary
Apt for concealment, easy of defence;
And Guisla's flight, though to his heart it sent
A pang more poignant for their mother's sake,
Yet did it further in its consequence
His hope and project, surer than decoy
Well-laid, or best concerted stratagem.
That sullen and revengeful mind, he knew,
Would followto the extremity ofguilt
Its long fore-purposed shame: the toils were laid,
And she who by the Musslemen full sure
 173
Thought on her kindred her revenge to wreak,
Led the Moors in.
Count Pedro and his son
Were hovering with the main Asturian force
In the wider vale to watch occasion there,
And with hot onset when the alarm began
Pursue the vantage. In the fated straits.
Of Deva had the King disposed the rest:
Amid the hanging woods, and on the cliffs,
A long mile's length on either side its bed,
They lay. The lever and the axe and saw
Had skillfully been plied; and trees and stones,
A dread artillery, ranged on crag and shelf
And steep decent, were ready at the word
Precipitate to roll resistless down.
The faithful maiden not more wistfully
Looks for the day that brings her lover home; ....
Scarce more impatiently the horse endures
The rein, when loud and shrill the hunter's horn
Rings in his joyous ears, than at their post
The mountaineers await their certain prey.
Yet mindful of their Prince's order, oft
And solemnly enforced, with eagerness
Subdued by minds well-master'd, they expect
The appointed signal.
Hand must not be raised,
Foot stirr'd, nor voice be utter'd, said the chief,
Tillthe word pass: impatience would mar all.
God hath delivered over to your hands
His enemies and ours, so we but use
The occasion wisely. Not till the word pass
From man to man transmitted, " In the name
" Of God, for Spain and Vengeance," let a hand
Be lifted; on obedience all depends.
Their march below with noise of horse and foot,
And haply with the clang of instruments,
Might drown all other signal; this is sure.
But wait it calmly; it will not be given
Tillthe whole line hath entered in the toils.
Comrades, be patient, so shall none escape
 174
Who once set foot within these straits of death,
Thus had Pelayo on the mountaineers
With frequent and impressive charge enforced
The needful exhortation. This alone
He doubted, that the Musslemen might see
The perils of the vale, and warily
Forbear to enter. But they thought to find
As Guisla told, the main Asturian force
Seeking concealment there, no other aid
Soliciting from these their native hills;
And that the babes and women having fallen
In thraldom, they would lay their weapons down
And supplicate forgiveness for their sake.
Nor did the Moors perceive in what a strait
They enter'd; for the morn had risen o'ercast,
And when the Sun had reach'd the height of Heaven,
Dimly his pale and beamless orb was seen
Moving through mist. A soft and gentle rain,
Scarce heavier than the summer's evening dew,
Descended,. through so still an atmosphere,
That every leafupon the moveless trees
Was studded o'er with rain drops, bright and full,
None falling till from its own weight o'erswoln
The motion came.
Low on the mountain side
The fleecy vapour hung, and in its veil
With all their dreadful preparations wrapt
The Mountaineers: ... in breathless hope they lay,
Some blessing God in silence for the power
This day vouchsafed; others with fervency
Of prayer and vow invoked the Mother-Maid,
Beseeching her that in this favouring hour
She would be strongly with them. From below
Meantime distinct they heard the passing tramp
Of horse and foot, continuous as the sound
Of Deva's stream, and barbarous tongues commixt
With laughter, and with frequent shouts, for all
Exultant came, expecting sure success;
Blind wretches, over whom the ruin hung!
 175
They say, quoth one, that though the Prophet's soul
Doth with the black-eyed Houris bathe in bliss,
Life hath not left his body, which bears up
By its miraculous power the holy tomb,
And holds it at Medina in the air,
Buoyant between the temple's floor and roof:
And there the Angels fly to him with news
From East, West, North, and South, of what befalls
His faithful people. Ifwhen he shall hear
The tale ofthis day's work, he should forjoy
Forget that he is dead, and walk abroad,....
It were as good a miracle as when
He sliced the moon! Sir Angel hear me now,
Whoe'er thou bee'st who art about to speed
From Spain to Araby! when thou hast got
The Prophet's ear, be sure thou tellest him
How bravely Ghauleb did his part to-day,
And with what special reverence he alone
Desired thee to commend him to his grace!.
Fie on thee, scoffer, that thou art! replied
His comrade; thou wilt never leave these gibes
Till some commission'd arrow through the teeth
Shall nail the offending tongue. Hast thou not heard 39
How when our clay is leaven'd first with life,
The ministering Angel brings it from that spot
Whereon 'tis written in the eternal book
That soul and body must their parting take
And earth to earth return? How knowest thou
But that the spirit who compounded thee,
To distant Syria from this very vale
Bore thy component dust, and Azrael here
Awaits thee at this hour? ... Little thought he
Who spake, that in that valley at that hour
One death awaited both!
Thus they pursued
Toward the cave their inauspicious way.
Weak childhood there and ineffective age
In the chambers ofthe rock were placed secure;
But ofthe women, all whom with the babes
Maternal care detain'd not, were aloft
 176
To aid in the destruction: by the side
Offathers, brethren, husbands, station'd there
They watch and pray. Pelayo in the cave
With the venerable Primate took his post.
Ranged on the rising cliffs on either hand,
Vigilant centinels with eye intent
Observe his movements, when to take the word
And pass it forward. He in arms complete
Stands in the portal: a stern majesty
Reign'd in his countenance severe that hour,
And in his eye a deep and dreadfuljoy
Shone, as advancing up the vale he saw
The Moorish banners. God hath blinded them!
He cried; the measure of their crimes is full!
O Vale of Deva, famous shalt thou be
From this day forth for ever; and to these
Thy springs shall unborn generations come
In pilgrimage, and hallow with their prayers
The cradle of their native monarchy!
There was a stirring in the air, the sun
Prevail'd, and gradually the brightening mist
Began to rise and melt. A jutting crag
Upon the right projected o'er the stream,
Not farther from the cave than a strong hand
Expert, with deadly aim might cast the spear,
Or a strong voice, pitch'd to full compass, make
Its clear articulation heard distinct.
A venturous dalesman, once ascending there
To rob the eagle's nest, had fallen, and hung
Among the heather, wonderously preserved:
Therefore had be with pious gratitude
Placed on that overhanging brow a Cross,
Tall as the mast ofsome light fisher's skiff,
And from the vale conspicuous. As the Moors
Advanced, the Chieftain in the van was seen
Known by his arms, and from the crag a voice
Pronounced his name, ... Alcahman, hoa! look up,
Alcahman! As the floating mist drew up
It had divided there, and opened round
 177
The Cross; part clinging to the rock beneath,
Hovering and waving part in fleecy folds,
A canopy of silver light condensed
To shape and substance. In the midst there stood vend
A female form, one hand upon the Cross,
The other raised in menacing act: below
Loose flow'd her raiment, but her breast was arm'd,
And helmeted her head, The Moor turn'd pale,
For on the walls of Auria he had seen
That well-known figure, and had well believed
She rested with the dead. What, hoa! she cried,
Alcahman! In the name of all who fell
At Auria in the massacre, this hour
I summon thee before the throne of God
To answer for the innocent blood! This hour,
Moor, Miscreant, Murderer, Child of Hell, this hour
I summon thee to judgment! ...In the name
Of God! for Spain and Vengeance!
Thus she closed
Her speech; for taking from the Primate's hand
That oaken cross which at the sacring rites
Had served for crozier, at the cavern's mouth
Pelayo lifted it and gave the word.
From voice to voice on either side it past
With rapid repetition, ... In the name
Of God! for Spain and Vengeance! and forthwith
On either side along the whole defile
The Asturians shouting in the name ofGod,
Set the whole ruin loose; huge trunks and stones,
And loosen'd crags, down down they roll'd with rush
And bound, and thundering force. Such was the fall
As when some city by the labouring earth
Heaved from its strong foundations is cast down,
And all its dwellings, towers, and palaces
In one wide desolation prostrated.
From end to end of that long strait, the crash
Was heard continuous, and commixt with sounds
More dreadful, shrieks ofhorror and despair,
And death,.. the wild and agonizing cry
Of that whole host in one destruction whelm'd.
H2
 178
Vain was all valour there, all martial skill;
The valiant arm is helpless now; the feet
Swift in the race avail not now to save;
Go They perish, all their thousands perish there..
Horsemen and infantry they perish all, ..
The outward armour and the bones within
Broken and bruised and crush'd. Echo prolong'd
The long uproar; a silence then ensued,
Through which the sound of Deva's stream was heard,
A lonely voice of waters, wild and sweet:
The lingering groan, the faintly-utter'd prayer,
The louder curses ofdespairing death,
Ascended not so high. Down from the cave
Pelayo hastes, the Asturians hasten down,
Fierce and immitigable down they speed
On all sides, and along the vale of blood
The avenging sword did mercy's work that hour.

3.
Rod &Count Tetran

XXIV.

TH HOU hast been busy, Death, this day, and yet

But half thy work is done! The Gates of Hell
Are throng'd, yet twice ten thousand spirits more,
Who from their warm and healthful tenements
Fear no divorce, must ere the Sun go down
Enter the world ofwoe! The Gate of Heaven
Is open too, and Angels round the throne
Of Mercy on their golden harps this day
Shall sing the triumphs of Redeeming Love.
There was a Church at Cangas dedicate
To that Apostle unto whom his Lord
Had given the keys: a humble edifice,
Whose rude and time-worn structure suited well
That vale among the mountains. Its low roof
With stone plants and with moss was overgrown,
Short fern, and richer weeds which from the eaves
Hung their long tresses down. White lichens clothed
The sides, save where the ivy spread, which bower'd
The porch, and clustering round the pointed wall,
Wherein two bells, each open to the wind,
Hung side by side, threaded with hairy shoots
The double nich; and climbing to the cross,
Wreathed it and halfconceal'd its sacred form
With bushy tufts luxuriant. Here in the font, ...
Borne thither with rejoicings and with prayers
Ofall the happy land, who saw in him
The lineage of their ancient Chiefs renew'd,.
The Prince had been immersed; and here within
An oaken galilee, now black with age,
His old Iberian ancestors were laid.
 180
Two stately oaks stood near, in the full growth
Of many a century. They had flourish'dthere
Before the Gothic sword was felt in Spain,
And when the ancient sceptre ofthe Goths
Was broken, there they flourish'd still. Their boughs
Mingled on high, and stretching wide around,
Form'd a deep shade, beneath which canopy
Upon the ground Count Julian's board was spread,
For to his daughter he had left his tent
Pitch'd for her use hard by. He at the board
Sate with his trusted Captains, Gunderick,
Felix and Miro, Theudered and Paul,
Basil and Cottila, and Virimar,
Men through all fortunes faithful to their Lord,
And to that old and tried fidelity,´
By personal love and honour held in ties
Strong as religious bonds. As there they sate
In the distant vale a rising dust was seen,
And frequent flash ofsteel, .. the flying fightgrus Happ
Of men who, by a fiery foe pursued,
Put forth their coursers at full speed, to reach
The aid in which they trust. Up sprung the Chiefs,
And hastily taking helm and shield, and spear,
Sped to their post.
Amid the chesnut groves
On Sella's side, Alphonso had in charge
To watch the foe; a prowling band came nigh,
Whom with the ardour ofimpetuous youth gal
He charged, and followed them in close pursuit:
Quick succours join'd them; and the strife grew hot,
Ere Pedro hastening to bring off his son,
Or Julian and his Captains, .. bent alike
That hour to abstain from combat, (for by this
Full sure they deem'd Alcahman had secured
The easy means of certain victory,) ..
Could reach the spot. Both thus in their intent liato
According, somewhat had they now allay'd 5
The fury of the fight, though still spears flew, t
And strokes ofsword and mace were interchanged,
When passing through the troop a Moor came up
 181
On errand from the Chief to Julian sent;
A fatal errand fatally perform'd
For Julian, for the Chief and for himself,
And all that host of Musslemen he brought;
For while with well-dissembled words he lured
The warrior's ear, the dexterous ruffian mark'd
The favouring moment and unguarded place,
And plunged ajavelin in his side. The Count
Fell, but in falling call'd to Cottila,
Treachery! the Moor! the Moor! .. He too on whom
He call'd had seen the blow from whence it came,
And seized the murderer. Miscreant! he exclaim'd,
Who set thee on? The Mussleman who saw
His secret purpose baffled, undismay'd
Replies, What I have done is authorized;
To punish treachery and prevent worse ill
Orpas and Abulcacem sent me here;
The service ofthe Caliph and the Faith
Required the blow.
The Prophet and the Fiend
Reward thee then! cried Cottila; meantime
Take thou from me thy proper earthly meed;
Villain! ... and lifting, as he spake, the sword,
He smote him on the neck: the trenchant blade
Through vein and artery past and yielding bone;
And on the shoulder, as the assassin dropt,
His head half-severed fell. The curse ofGod
Fall on the Caliph and the Faith and thee!
Stamping for anguish, Cottila pursued;
African dogs! thus is it ye requite
Our services? ... But dearly shall ye pay
For this day's work! ... O Fellow-soldiers, here,
Stretching his hands toward the host, he cried, "
Behold your noble leader basely slain!
He who for twenty years hath led us forth
To war, and brought us home with victory,
Here he lies foully murder'd, ... by the Moors,
Those whom he trusted, whom he served so well!
Our turn is next! but neither will we wait
Idly, nor tamely fall!
 182
Amid the grief
w gather'd round, ,
Tumult, and rage, of those who
When Julian could be heard, I have yet life,
He said, for vengeance. Virimar, speed thou
To yonder mountaineers, and tell their Chiefs
That Julian's veteran army joins this day
Pelayo's standard! The command devolves
On Gunderick. Fellow-soldiers, who so well
Redress'd the wrongs of your old General,
Ye will not let his death go unrevenged! ..
Tears then were seen on many an iron cheek,
And groans were heard from many a resolute heart,
And vows with imprecations mixt went forth,
And curses check'd by sobs. Bear me apart,
Said Julian, with a faint and painful voice,
And let me see my daughter ere I die.
Scarce had he spoken when the pitying throng
Divide before her. Eagerly she came;
Adeep andd fearful bulust
st.re..in her eye,
A look ofsettled pale, deadly pale,
Yet to no lamentations giving way,
Nor tears nor groans; ... within her breaking heart
She bore the grief, and kneeling solemnly
Beside him, raised her awful hands to heaven,
And cried, Lord God! be with him in this hour!..
Two things have I to think of, O my child, the
Vengeance and thee!, said Julian. For the first
I have provided: what remains of life
As best may comfort thee may so be best
Employ'd; let me be borne within the Church,
And thou, with that good man who follows thee,
Attend me there.
Thus when Florinda heard
Her father speak, a gleam of heavenly joy
Shone through the anguish ofher countenance.
O gracious God, she cried, my prayers are heard! 37394
Now let me die! ... They raised him from the earth;
He, knitting as they lifted him his brow,
Drewin through open lips and teeth firm-closed
His painful breath, and on the lance laid hand,
 183
Lest its long shaft should shake the mortal wound.
Gently his men with slow and steady step
Their suffering burthen bore, and in the Church bro
Before the altar laid him down, his head
Upon Florinda's knees.... Now, friends, said he,
Farewell. I ever hoped to meet my death
Among ye, like a soldier, ... but not thus!
Gojoin the Asturians; and in after years,
When of your old commander ye shall talk,
How well he loved his followers, what he was
In battle, and how basely he was slain,
Let not the tale its fit completion lack,
But say how bravely was his death revenged.
Vengeance! in that good word doth Julian make
His testament; your faithful swords must give
The will its full performance. Leave me now,
I have done with worldly things. Comrades, farewell,
And love my memory!
They with copious tears
Ofburning anger, griefexasperating
Their rage, and fury giving force to grief,
Hasten'd to form their ranks against the Moors.
Julian meantime toward the altar turn'd
His languid eyes: That Image, is it not
St. Peter, he enquired, he who denied
His Lord and was forgiven? ... Roderick rejoin'd,
It is the Apostle; and may that same Lord,
OJulian, to thy soul's salvation bless
The seasonable thought!
The dying Count
Then fix'd upon the Goth his earnest eyes.
No time, said he, is this for bravery,
As little for dissemblance. I would fain
Die in the faith wherein my fathers died,
Whereto they pledged me in mine infancy....
A soldier's habits, he pursued, have steel'd
My spirit, and perhaps I do not fear is in sun)
This passage as I ought. But if to feeload mobFuse 20
That I have sinn'd, and from my soul renounce
The Impostor's faith, which never in that soul
 184
Obtain❜d a place,...If at the Saviour's feet,
Laden with guilt, to cast myselfand cry, vitata
Lord, Ibelieve! help thou my unbelief!.
Ifthis in the sincerity ofdeath rain our ridsk
Sufficeth , ... father, let me from thy lips at nou??
Receive the assurances with which the Church
Doth bless the dying Christian.
Roderick raised
His eyes to Heaven, and crossing on his breast
His open palms, Mysterious are thy ways
And merciful, O gracious Lord! he cried,
Who to this end hast thus been pleased to lead
My wandering steps! O Father, this thy son 12
Hath sinn'd and gone astray; but hast not Thou
Said, whenthe sinner from his evil ways
Turneth, that he shall save his soul alive,
And Angels at the sight rejoice in Heaven!
Therefore do I, in Thy most holy name,
Into thy family receive again
Him who was lost, and in that name absolven
The Penitent.... So saying, on the head
OfJulian solemnly he laid his hands.to bustí
Then to the altar tremblingly he turn'd,
And took the bread, and breaking it, pursued, E
6 Julian! receive from me the Bread of Life!
In silence reverently the Count partook but et
The reconciling rite, and to his lips peltoqA såret 12
Roderick then held the consecrated cupantai,
Me too! exclaim'd Florinda, who till then
Had listen'd speechlessly: thou man of God, T
I also must partake! The Lord hath heard
My prayers! one sacrament, ... one hour, ... one ja
grave, evitat en af
One resurrection!
That dread office done, or A
Count Julian with amazement saw the Priest Ro
Kneeldown before him. By the sacrament
Which we have here partaken, Roderick cried, sadr
In this most awful moment; by that hope, cual se
 185
That holy faith which comforts thee in death,
Grant thy forgiveness, Julian, ere thou diest!
Behold the man who most hath injured thee!
Roderick, the wretched Goth, the guilty cause
Ofall thy guilt, ... the unworthy instrument
Of thy redemption, ... kneels before thee here,
And prays to be forgiven!
Roderick! 'exclaim'd
The dying Count,. .. Roderick! ... and from the floor
With violent effort halfhe raised himself; p
The spear hung heavy in his side, and pain
And weakness overcame him, that he fell
Back on his daughter's lap. O Death, cried he, ...
Passing his hand across his cold damp brow, ...
Thou tamest the strong limb, and conquerest
The stubborn heart! But yesterday I said
One Heaven could not contain mine enemy
And me; and now I lift my dying voice
To say, Forgive me, Lord, as I forgive
Him who hath done the wrong!....He closed his eyes
A moment; then with sudden impulse cried,
Roderick, thy wife is dead,.. the Church hath power
Tofree thee from thy vows, ... the broken heart
Might yet be heal'd, the wrong redress'd, the throne
Rebuilt by that same hand which pull'd it down,
And these curst Africans ....Oh for a month
Of that waste life which millions misbestow! ...
His voice was passionate, and in his eye
With glowing animation while he spake
The vehement spirit shone: its effort soon
Was past, and painfully with feeble breath
In slow and difficult utterance he pursued,
Vain hope, if all the evil was ordain'd,
And this wide wreck the will and work of Heaven,
We but the poor occasion! Death will make
All clear, and joining us in better worlds,
Complete our union there! Do for me now
One friendly office more: ... draw forth the spear
And free me from this pain! ... Receive his soul,
Saviour! exclaim'd the Goth, as he perform'd
 186
The fatal service. Julian cried, O friend!...
True friend! ... and gave to him his dying hand.
Then said he to Florinda, I go first,
Thou followest ! ... kiss me, child! and now good
night!
When from her father's body she arose,
Her cheek was flush'd, and in her eyes there beam'd
A wilder brightness. On the Goth she gazed,
While underneath the emotions ofthat hour
Exhausted life gave way. O God! she said,
Lifting her hands, thou hast restored me all,
All...in one hour! ...and round his neck she threw
Her arms and cried, My Roderick! mine in Heaven!
Groaning, he claspt her close, and in that act
And agony her happy spirit fled.
 Rodin Battle .

XXV.

EIGHT thousand men had to Asturias march'd

Beneath Count Julian's banner; the remains
Of that brave army which in Africa
So well against the Mussleman made head,
Till sense of injuries insupportable,
And raging thirst of vengeance, overthrew
Their Leader's noble spirit. To revenge
His quarrel, twice that number left their bones,
Slain in unnatural battle, on the field
Of Xeres, where the sceptre from the Goths
By righteous Heaven was reft. Others had fallen
Consumed in sieges, alway by the Moor
To the front of war opposed. The policy,
With whatsoever show of honour cloak'd,
Was gross, and this surviving band had oft
At their carousals ofthe flagrant wrong
Held such discourse as stirs the mounting blood,
The common danger with one discontent
Affecting chiefs and men. Nor had the bonds
Of rooted discipline, and faith attach'd,
Thus long restrain'd them, had they not known well
That Julian in their just resentment shared,
And fix'd their hopes on him. Slight impulse now
Sufficed to make these fiery martialists
Break forth in open fury; and though first
Count Pedro listen'd with suspicious ear
To Julian's dying errand, deeming it
Some new decoy of treason, ... when he found
A second legate followed Virimar,
And then a third, and saw the turbulence
 188
Of the camp, and how against the Moors in haste
They form'd their lines, he knew that Providence
This hour had for his country interposed,
And in such faith advanced to use the aid
Thus wonderously ordain'd. The eager Chiefs
Hasten to greet him, Cottila and Paul,
Basil and Miro, Theudered, Gunderick,
Felix, and all who held authority;
The zealous services of their brave host
They proffer'd, and besought him instantly
To lead against the African their force
Combined, and in good hour assail a foe
Divided, nor for such attack prepared.
While thus they communed, Roderick fromthe Church
Came forth, and seeing Pedro, bent his way
Toward them. Sirs, said he, the Count is dead:
He died a Christian, reconciled to Heaven,
In faith; and when his daughter had received
His dying breath, her spirit too took flight.
One sacrament, one death, united them;
And I beseech ye, ye who from the work
Of blood which lies before us may return,
If, as I think, it should not be my fate,.
That in one grave with Christian ceremonies
Ye lay them side by side. In Heaven I ween
They are met through mercy: ... ill befall the man
Who should in death divide them! ... Then he turn'd
His speech to Pedro in an under voice;
The King, said he, I know with noble mind
Will judge of the departed; christianlike
He died, and with a manly penitence:
They who condemn him most should call to mind
How grievous was the wrong which madden'd him;
Be that remember'd in his history,
62 And let no shame be offer'd his remains.
As Pedro would have answered, a loud cry
Of menacing imprecation from the troops prosty &
Arose; for Orpas, by the Moorish Chief
 189
Sent to allay the storm his villainy
Had stirr'd, came hastening on a milk-white steed,
And at safe distance having check'd the rein,
Beckon❜d for parley. 'Twas Orelio
On which he rode, Roderick's own battle-horse,
Who from his master's hand had wont to feed,
And with a glad docility obey
His voice familiar. At the sight the Goth
Started, and indignation to his soul
Brought back the thoughts and feelings of old time.
Suffer me, Count, he cried, to answer him,
And hold these back the while! Thus having said,
He waited no reply, but as he was
Bareheaded, in his weeds, and all unarm'd,
Advanced toward the renegade. Sir Priest,
Quoth Orpas as he came, I hold no talk
With thee! my errand is with Gunderick
And the Captains ofthe host, to whom I bring
Such liberal offers and clear proof ..
The Goth,
Breaking with scornful voice his speech, exclaim'd,
What, could no steed but Roderick's serve thy turn?
I should have thought some sleek and sober mule
Long train'd in shackles to procession pace,
More suited to my Lord of Seville's use,
Than this good war-horse, ..... he who never bore.
A villain, until Orpas crost his back! ...
Wretch! cried the astonish'd renegade, and stoopt,
Foaming with anger, from the saddle-bow
To reach his weapon. Ere the hasty hand
Trembling in passion could perform its will,
Roderick had seized the reins. How now, he cried,
Orelio! old companion, . my good horse,.
Offwith this recreant burthen! And with that
He raised his hand, and rear'd, and back'd the steed,
To that remember'd voice and arm of power
Obedient. Down the helpless traitor fell
Violently thrown, and Roderick over him
Thrice led, withjust and unrelenting hand,
The trampling hoofs. Gojoin Witiza now,
 190
Where he lies howling, the avenger cried,
And tell him Roderick sentthee!
At that sight,
Count Julian's soldiers and the Asturian host
Set up a shout, a joyful shout, which rung
Wide through the welkin. Their exulting cry
With louder acclamation was renew'd,
When from the expiring miscreant's neck they saw
That Roderick took the shield, and round his own
Hung it, and vaulted in the seat. My horse!
My noble horse! he cried, with flattering hand
Patting his high-arcir'd neck; the renegade,
I thank him for't, hath kept thee daintily!
Orelio, thou art in thy beauty still,
Thy pride and strength! Orelio, my good horse,
Once more thou bearest to the field thy Lord,
He who so oft hath fed and cherish'd thee,
He for whose sake, wherever thou wert seen,
Thou wert by all men honour'd. Once again
Thou hast thy proper master! Do thy part
As thou wert wont; and bearhim gloriously,
My beautiful Orelio, ... to the last, ...
..
The happiest ofhis fields! ... Then he drew forth
The scymitar, and waving it aloft,
Rode toward the troops: its unaccustom❜d shape
Disliked him; Renegade in all things! cried
The Goth, and cast it from him; to the Chiefs
Then said, If I have done ye service here,
Help me, I pray you, to a Spanish sword!
The trustiest blade that e'er in Bilbilis
Was dipt, would not to-day be misbestow'd
On this right hand! ... Go some one, Gunderick cried,
And bring Count Julian's sword. Whoe'er thou art,
The worth which thou hast shown avenging him
Entitles thee to wear it. But thou goest
For battle unequipp'd: ... haste there and strip
Yon villain ofhis armour!
Late he spake,
So fast the Moors came on. It matters not,
Replied the Goth: there's many a mountaineer,
 191
Who in no better armour cased this day
Than his wonted leathern gipion, will be found 63
the hottest battle, yet bring off untouch'd
The unguarded life he ventures ... Taking then
Count Julian's sword, he fitted round his wrist
The chain, and eyeing the elaborate steel
With stern regard of joy, The African
Under unhappy stars was born, he cried,
Who tastes thy edge! .. Make ready for the charge!
They come..1..they come! .. On, brethren, to the field ..
The word is Vengeance!
Vengeance was the word;
From man to man, and rank to rank it past,
By every heart enforced, by every voice
Sent forth in loud defiance of the foe.
The enemy in shriller sounds return'd
Their Akbar and the Prophet's trusted name.
The horsemen lower'd their spears, the infantry
Deliberately with slow and steady step
Advanced; the bow-strings twang'd, and arrows hiss'd,
And javelins hurtled by. Anon the hosts
Met in the shock of battle, horse and man
Conflicting: shield struck shield, and sword and mace
And curtle-axe on helm and buckler rang;
Armour was riven, and wounds were interchanged,
And many a spirit from its mortal hold
Hurried to bliss or bale. Well did the Chiefs
OfJulian's army in that hour support
Their old esteem; and well Count Pedro there
Enhanced his former praise; and by his side,
Rejoicing like a bridegroom in the strife,
Alphonso through the host of infidels
Bore on his bloody lance dismay and death.
But there was worst confusion and uproar,
There widest slaughter and dismay, where, proud
Of his recover'd Lord, Orelio plunged
Through thickest ranks, trampling beneath his feet
The living and the dead. Where'er he turns
The Moors divide and fly. What man is this,
Appall'd they say, who to the front ofwar
 192
Bareheaded offers thus his naked life?
Replete with power he is, and terrible,
Like some destroying Angel! Sure his lips
Have drank of Kaf's dark fountain, and he comes
Strong in his immortality! Fly! fly!
They said, this is no human foe!.. Nor less
Ofwonder fill'd the Spaniards when they saw
How flight and terror went before his way,
And slaughter in his path. Behold, cries one,
With what command and knightly ease he sits
The intrepid steed, and deals from side to side
His dreadful blows! Not Roderick in his power
Bestrode with such command and majesty
That noble war-horse. His loose robe this day
Is death's black banner, shaking from its folds
Dismay and ruin. Of no mortal mold
Is he who in that garb of peace affronts
Whole hosts, and sees them scatter where he turns!
Auspicious Heaven beholds us, and some Saint
Revisits earth!
Aye, cries another, Heaven
Hath ever with especial bounty blest
Above all other lands its favour'd Spain;
Chusing her children forth from all mankind
For its peculiar people, as of yore
Abraham's ungrateful race beneath the Law.
Who knows not how on that most holy night
When Peace on Earth by Angels was proclaim'd,
64 The light which o'er the fields of Bethlehem shone,
Irradiated whole Spain? not just display'd,
As to the Shepherds, and again withdrawn;
Allthe long winter hours from eve till morn
Her forests and her mountains and her plains,
Her hills and vallies were embathed in light,
A light which came not from the sun or moon
Or stars, by secondary powers dispensed,
But from the fountain-springs, the Light of Light
Effluent. And wherefore should we not believe
That this may be some Saint or Angel, charged
To lead us to miraculous victory?
 193
Hath not the Virgin Mother oftentimes
Descending, clothed in glory, sanctified
With feet adorable our happy soil? ...
Mark'd ye not, said another, how he cast
In wrath the unhallow'd scymitar away,
And call'd for Christian weapon ? Oh be sure
This is the aid of Heaven ! On, comrades, on!
A miracle to-day is wrought for Spain!
Victory and Vengeance! Hew the miscreants down,
And spare not! hew them down in sacrifice!
God is with us! his Saints are in the field!
Victory! miraculous Victory!
Thus they
Inflamed with wild belief the keen desire
of vengeance on their enemies abhorr❜d.
The Moorish chief, meantime, o'erlook'd the fight
From an eminence, and cursed the renegade
Whose counsels sorting to such ill effect
Had brought this danger on. Lo, from the East
Comes fresh alarm! a few poor fugitives
Well-nigh with fear exanimate came up,
From Covadonga flying, and the rear
Of that destruction, scarce with breath to tell
Their dreadful tale. When Abulcacem heard,
Stricken with horror, like a man bereft
Ofsense, he stood. O Prophet, he exclaim'd ,
A hard and cruel fortune hast thou brought
This day upon thy servant! Must I then
Here with disgrace and ruin close a life
Ofglorious deeds? But how should man resist
Fate's irreversible decrees, or why
Murmur at what must be! They who survive
May mourn the evil which this day begins:
My part will soon be done! ... Griefthen gave way
To rage,and, cursing Guişla, he pursued,
Oh that that treacherous woman were but here!
It were a consolation to give her
The evil death she merits!
That reward
She hath had, a Moor replied. For when we reach'd
I
 194
The entrance ofthe vale, it was her choice
There in the farthest dwellings to be left,
Lest she should see her brother's face; but thence
We found her, flying at the overthrow,
And, visiting the treason on her head,
Pierced her with wounds.... Poor vengeance for a host
Destroy'd! said Abulcacem in his soul.
Howbeit, resolving to the last to do
His office, he roused up his spirit. Go,
Strike off Count Eudon's head! he cried; the fear
Which brought him to our camp will bring him else .
In arms against us now! For Sisibert
And Ebba, he continued thus in thought,
Their uncle's fate for ever bars all plots
Oftreason on their part; no hope have they
Ofsafety but with us. He call'd them then
With chosen troops to join him in the front 1. Pa
Ofbattle, that by bravely making head,
Retreat might nowbe won. Then fiercer raged
The conflict, and more frequent cries of death,
Mingling with imprecations and with prayers,
Rose through the din ofwar.
By this the blood
Which Deva down her fatal channel pour'd,
Purpling Pionia's course, had reach'd and stain'd
The wider stream of Sella. Soon far off
The frequent glance of spears and gleam ofarms
Were seen, which sparkled tothe westering orb,
Where down the vale, impatient to complete
The glorious work so well that day begun,
Pelayo led his troops. On foot they came,
65 Chieftains and men alike; the Oaken Cross
Triumphant borne on high precedes their march,
And broad and bright the argent banner shone.
Roderick, who, dealing death from side to side,
Had through the Moorish army now made way,
Beheld it flash, and judging well what aid
Approach'd, with sudden impulse that way rode,
To tell ofwhat had past, lest in the strife
They should engage with Julian's men, and mar
 195
The mighty consummation. One ran on
To meet him fleet of foot, and having given
His tale to this swift messenger, the Goth
Halted awhile to let Orelio breathe.
Siverian, quoth Pelayo, if mine eyes
Deceive me not, yon horse, whose reeking sides.
Are red with slaughter, is the same on whom
The apostate Orpas in his vauntery
Wont to parade the streets of Cordoba.
But thou should'st know him best; regard him well:
Is't not Orelio?
Either it is he,
The old man replied, or one so like to him,
Whom all thought matchless, that similitude
Would be the greater wonder. But behold,
What man is he who in that disarray
Doth with such power and majesty bestride
The noble steed, as if he felt himself
In his own proper seat? Look how he leans
To cherish him; and howthe gallant horse
Curves up his stately neck, and bends his head,
As ifagain to court that gentle touch,
And answer to the voice which praises him.
Can it be Maccabee? rejoin'd the King,
Or are the secret wishes of my soul
Indeed fulfill'd, and hath the grave given up
Its dead !... So saying, on the old man he turn'd
Eyes full of wide astonishment, which told
The incipient thought that for incredible
He spake no farther. But enough had past,
For old Siverian started at the words
Like one who sees a spectre, and exclaim'd,
Blind that I was to know him not till now!
My Master, O my Master!
He meantime
With easy pace moved on to meet their march.
´King, to Pelayo he began, this day
By means scarce less than miracle, thy throne
Is stablish'd, and the wrongs ofSpain revenged.
Orpas the accursed, upon yonder field
 196
Lies ready for the ravens. By the Moors
Treacherously slain, Count Julian will be found
Before Saint Peter's altar; unto him
Grace was vouchsafed; and by that holy power
Which at Visonia by the Primate's hand
Of his own proper act to me was given,
Unworthy as I am, yet sure I think
Not without mystery as the event hath shown, ...
Did I accept Count Julian's penitence, mett
And reconcile the dying man to heaven.
Beside him hath his daughter gone to rest.
Deal honourably with his remains, and let
One grave with Christian rites receive them both.
Is it not written that as the Tree falls,
So it shall lie!
In this and all things else,
Pelayo answer'd, looking wistfully
Upon the Goth, thy pleasure shall be done.y đư
Then Roderick saw that he was known, and turn'd
His head away in silence. But the old man
Laid hold upon his bridle, and look'd up
In his master's face, weeping and silently. Le
Thereat the Goth with fervent pressure took
His hand, and bending down toward him, said,
My good Siverian, go not thou this day
To war! I charge thee keep thyselffrom harm! 2
Thou art past the age for combats, and with whom
Hereafter should thy mistress talk of men kiritge
Ifthou wert gone?... Thou see'st I am unarm'de
Thus disarray'd as thou beholdest me,
Clean through yon miscreant army have I cut
My way unhurt; but being once by Heaven
Preserved, I would not perish with the guilt
Ofhaving wilfully provoked my death. Ohnic far
Give me thy helmet and thy cuirass! ..nay, ..
Thou wert not wont to let me ask in vain, CO MET
Norto oppose me when my will was known! T
To thee methinks I should be still the King. Gr
to on handyGallfen st
 197

Thus saying, they withdrew a little way

Within the trees. Roderick alighted there,
And in the old man's armour dight himself.
Dost thou not marvel by what wonderous chance,
Said he, Orelio to his master's hand
Hath been restored? I found the renegade
Of Seville on his back, and hurl'd him down
Headlong to the earth. The noble animal
Rejoicingly obey'd my hand to shake.
His recreant burthen off, and trample out
The life which once I spared in evil hour.
Now let me meet Witiza's viperous sons
In yonder field, and then I may go rest
In peace,.. my work is done!
And nobly done!
Exclaim'd the old man. Oh! thou art greater now
Than in that glorious hour ofvictory
When grovelling in the dust Witiza lay,
The prisoner ofthy hand! .. Roderick replied,
O good Siverian, happier victory
Thy son hath now achieved, .. the victory
Over the world, his sins and his despair.
Ifon the field my body should be found,
See it, I charge thee, laid in Julian's grave,
And let no idle ear be told for whom.
Thou mournest. Thou wilt use Orelio
As doth beseem the steed which bath so oft
Carried a King to battle:..he hath done 2
Good service for his rightful Lord to-day, et
And better yet must do. Siverian, now
Farewell! I think we shall not meet again,
Till it be in that world where never change
Is known, and they who love shall part no more.
Commend me to my mother's prayers, and say
That never man enjoy'd a heavenlier peace
Than Roderick at this hour. O faithfulfriend,
How dear thou art to me these tears may tell!
With that he fell upon the old man's neck;
Then vaulted in the saddle, gave the reins,
 198

And soon rejoin'd the host. On, comrades, on!

Victory and Vengeance! he exclaim'd, and took
The lead on that good charger, he alone
Horsed for the onset. They with one consent
Gave all their voices to the inspiring cry,
Victory and Vengeance! and the hills and rocks
Caught the prophetic shout and roll'd it round.
Count Pedro's people heard amid the heat
Ofbattle, and return'd the glad acclaim.
The astonish'd Musslemen, on all sides charged,
Hear that tremendous cry; yet manfully
They stood, and every where with gallant front
Opposed in fair array the shock of war.
Desperately they fought, like men expert in arms,
And knowing that no safety could be found,
Save from their own right hands. No former day
Of all his long career had seen their chief
Approved so well; nor had Witiza's sons
Ever before this hour achieved in fight
Such feats of resolute valour. Sisibert
Beheld Pelayo in the field afoot,
And twice essay'd beneath his horse's feet
To thrust him down. Twice did the Prince evade
The shock, and twice upon his shield received
The fratricidal sword. Tempt me no more,
Son of Witiza, cried the indignant chief,
Lest I forget what mother gave thee birth! tubre
Go meet thy death from any hand but mine!
He said, and turn'd aside. Fitliest from me!
Exclaim'd a dreadful voice, as through the throng
Orelio forced his way; fitliest from me
Receive the rightful death too long withheld!
'Tis Roderick strikes the blow! And as he spake,
Upon the traitor's shoulder fierce he drove DIGN
The weapon, well bestow'd. He in the seat paded
Totter'd, and fell. The Avenger hasten'd on
In search of Ebba; and in the heat of fight
Rejoicing and forgetful of all else,
Set up his cry as he was,wont in youth,
Roderick the Goth! ...his war-cry known so well.
 199
Pelayo eagerly took up the word,
And shouted out his kinsman's name beloved,
Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory!
Roderick and Vengeance! Odoar gave it forth;
Urban repeated it, and through his ranks
Count Pedro sent the cry. Not from the field
Ofhis great victory, when Witiza fell,
With louder acclamations had that name
Been borne abroad upon the winds of heaven.
The unreflecting throng, who yesterday,
If it had past their lips, would with a curse
Have clogg'd it, echoed it as ifit came
From some celestial voice in the air, reveal'd
To be the certain pledge of all their hopes.
Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory!
Roderick and Vengeance! O'er the field it spread,
All hearts and tongues uniting in the cry;
Mountains and rocks and vales re-echoed round;
And he rejoicing in his strength rode on,
Laying on the Moors with that good sword, and smote,
And overthrew, and scattered, and destroy'd,
And trampled down; and still at every blow
Exultingly he sent the war-cry forth,
Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory!
Roderick and Vengeance!
Thus he made his way,
Smiting and slaying through the astonish'd ranks,
Till he beheld where on a fiery barb,
Ebba, performing well a soldier's part,
Dealt to the right and left his deadly blows.
With mutual rage they met. The renegade
Displays a scymitar, the splendid gift
OfWalid from Damascus sent; its hilt
Emboss'd with gems, its blade of perfect steel,
Which like a mirror sparkling to the sun 66
With dazzling splendour flash'd. The Goth objects
His shield, and on its rim received the edge
Driven from its aim aside, and ofits force
Diminish'd. Many a frustrate stroke was dealt
On either part, and many a foin and thrust
 200
Aim'd and rebated; many a deadly blow
Straight, or reverse, deliver'd and repell'd.
Roderick at length with better speed hath reach'd
The apostate's turban, and through all its folds
The true Cantabrian weapon making way
Attain'd his forehead. Wretch! the avenger cried,
It comes from Roderick's hand! Roderick the Goth,
Who spared, who trusted thee, and was betray'd!
Go tell thy father now how thou hast sped
With all thy treasons! Saying thus, he seized
The miserable, who, blinded now with blood,
Reel'd in the saddle; and with sidelong step
Backing Orelio, drew him to the ground.
He shrieking, as beneath the horse's feet
He fell, forgot his late-learnt creed, and call'd
On Mary's name. The dreadful Goth past on,
Still plunging through the thickest war, and still
Scattering, where'er he turn'd, the affrighted ranks.
Oh who could tell what deeds were wrought that day;
Or who endure to hear the tale of rage,
Hatred, and madness, and despair, and fear,
Horror, and wounds, and agony, and death,
The cries, the blasphemies, the shrieks, and groans,
And prayers, which mingled with the din ofarms
In one wild uproar ofterrific sounds;
While over all predominant was heard
Reiterate from the conquerors o'er the field,
Roderick the Goth! Roderick and Victory!
Roderick and Vengeance! .... Woe for Africa!
Woe for the circumcised! Woe for the faith
Ofthe lying Ishmaelite that hour! The Chiefs
Have fallen; the Moors, confused and captainless,
And panic-stricken, vainly seek to escape
The inevitable fate. Turn where they will,
Strong in his cause, rejoicing in success,
Insatiate at the banquet of revenge,
The enemy is there; look where they will,
Death hath environed their devoted ranks;
Fly where they will, the avenger and the sword
 201
Await them,.... wretches! whom the righteous arm
Hath overtaken! ... Join'd in bonds offaith
Accurst, the most flagitious ofmankind
From all parts met are here; the apostate Greek,
The vicious Syrian, and the sullen Copt,
The Persian cruel and corrupt of soul,
The Arabian robber, and the prowling sons
Of Africa, who from their thirsty sands 67
Pray that the locusts on the peopled plain
May settle and prepare their way. Conjoin'd
Beneath an impious faith, which sanctifies
To them all deeds of wickedness and blood,
Yea, and halloos them on, ... here are they met.
To be conjoin'd in punishment this hour.
For plunder, violation, massacre,
All hideous, all unutterable things,
The righteous, the immitigable sword
Exacts due vengeance now! the cry ofblood
Is heard: the measure oftheir crimes is full:
Such mercy as the Moor at Auria gave,
Such mercy hath he found this dreadful hour!
The evening darken'd, but the avenging sword
Turn'd not away its edge till night had closed
Upon the field of blood. The Chieftains then
Blew the recall, and from their perfect work
Return'd rejoicing, all but he for whom
All look'd with most expectance. He full sure
Had thought upon that field to find his end
Desired, and with Florinda in the grave
Rest, in indissoluble union join'd.
But still where through the press ofwar he went
Half-arm'd, and like a lover seeking death,
The arrows past him by to right and left,
The spear-point pierced him not, the scymitar
Glanced from his helmet: he, when he beheld
The rout complete, saw that the shield of Heaven
Had been extended over him once more,
And bow'd before its will. Upon the banks
Of Sella was Orelio found, his legs
I2
 202
And flanks incarnadined, his poitral smear'd
With froth and foam and gore, his silver mane
Sprinkled with blood, which hung on every hair,
Aspersed like dew-drops: trembling there he stood
From the toilofbattle, and at times sent forth
His tremulous voice far-echoing loud and shrill,
A frequent, anxious cry, with which he seem'd
To call the master whom he loved so well,
And who had thus again forsaken him.
Siverian's helm and cuirass on the grass
Lay near; and Julian's sword, its hilt and chain
Clotted with blood; but where was he whose hand
Had wielded it so well that glorious day?.
Days, months, and years, and generations past,
And centuries held their course, before, far off
Within a hermitage near Viseu's walls,
70 A humble tomb was found, which bore inscribed
In ancient characters King Roderick's name.

beck THE END.

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NOTES .
 olu .the veryprinciple yout
Pill went on ,one would think, in
Isaying ofyou owed you Jam
Knowhide
of Eng.Hist. Ar Shakefre e
themoney
was
Tmy historian fyelling7
ta marvellous arcate ofcharade ,
‫ منا‬NOTES
tur mare a lustyard in
inhis healment
ofRichard !!! andhe is ofHamlet-
Achilla's diamasfor History
Joy LakeCount Julian call'd the invaders.-I. P.
The story of Count Julian and his daughter has
been treated as a fable by some authors, because it is
not mentioned by the three writers who lived nearest
the time. But those writers state the mere fact ofthe
conquest of Spain as briefly as possible, without en-
tering into particulars of any kind; and the best
Spanish historians and antiquaries are persuaded that
there is no cause for disbelieving the uniform and
concurrent tradition of both Moors and Christians.
Forthe purposes ofpoetry, it is immaterial whether D
the story be true or false. I have represented the Count
as amanboth sinned against and sinning, and equal.
ly to be commiserated and condemned. The author
of the Tragedy of Count Julian has contemplated his
character in a grander point of view, and represent-
ed him as a man self-justified in bringing an army of
foreign auxiliaries to assist him in delivering his
country from a tyrant, and foreseeing, when it is too
late to recede, the evils which he is thus bringing
upon her.
Not victory that o'ershadows him, sees he!
No airy and light passion stirs abroad
To ruffle or to sooth him; all are quell'd
Beneath a mightier, sterner stress of mind:
Wakeful he sits, and lonely and unmoved,
Beyond the arrows, views, or shouts of men:
As oftentimes an eagle, when the sun
Throws o'er the varying earth his early ray,
& W. S. Landn
 206
Stands solitary, stands immovable
Upon some highest cliff, and rolls his eye,
Clear, constant, unobservant , unabased,
In the cold light, above the dews ofmorn.
Act 5. Scene 2.
Parts ofthis tragedy are as fine as any thing which
can be found in the whole compass of English
poetry.
Juan de Mena places Count Julian with Orpas, the
' renegado Archbishop of Seville, in the deepest pit
ofhell.
No buenamente tepuedo callar
Orpas maldito ni a ti Julian,
Pues soys en el valle mas hondo de afan,
Que no se redimejamas por llorar:
Qual ya crueza vos pudo indignar
A vender en un dia las tierras y leyes
De España, las quales pujanca de reyes
En años a tantos nopudo cobrar.
Copla 91.
A Portugueze poet, Audre da Sylva Mascarenhas,
is more indulgent to the Count, and seems to consi-
der it as a mark of degeneracy in his own times, that
the same crime would no longer provoke the same
vengeance. His catalogue of women who have be-
come famous by the evil of which they have been
the occasion, begins with Eve, and ends with Anne
Boleyn.
Louvar sepode ao Conde o sentimento
Da offensa da sua honestidade,
Se o nam vituperara co cruento
Disbarate da Hispana Christandade;
Se hoje ouvera stupros cento e cento
Nesta nossa infeliz lasciva idade, sex,bowel
Nam seperdera nam a forte Espanha,jkvega
Que o crimefrequentado nam se estranha,
 207
Por mulheres porem se temperdido
Muitos reynos da outra e desta vida;
Por Eva seperdeo o Ceo sobido,
Por Heleni a Asia esclarecida;
Por Cleopatra o Egyptofoi vencido,
Assiria por Semiramis perdida,
Por Cava seperdeo aforte Espanha
E por Anna Bolena a Gram Bretanha.
Destruicam de Espanha, p. 9.
Inhumanpriests with unoffending blood
Had stain'dtheir country.-I. p. 1.
Never has any country been so cursed bythe spirit
of persecution as Spain. Under the Heathen Empe-
rors it had its full share of suffering, and the first fa-
tal precedent of appealing to the secular power to
punish heresy with death, occurred in Spain. Then
came the Arian controversy. There was as much bi-
gotry, as much rancour, as little ofthe spirit of Christi-
anity, and probably as much intolerance, on one part
as on the other; but the successful party were better
politicians, and more expert in the management of
miracles.
Near to the city of Osen, or Ossel, there was a fa-
mous Athanasian church, and a more famous bap
tistery, which was in the form of a cross. On Holy
Thursday in every year, the bishop, the clergy,
and the people assembled there, saw that the bap-
tistery was empty, and enjoyed a marvellous frag-
rance which differed from that of any, or all, flowers
and spices, for it was an odour which came as the
vesper of the divine virtue that was about to mani-
fest itself: Then they fastened the doors of the church
and sealed them. On Easter Eve the doors were
opened, the baptistery was found full of water, and
all the children born within the preceding twelve
months were baptized. Theudisclo, an Arian King,
set his seal also upon the doors for two successive
years, and set a guard there. Still the miraculous
baptistery wasfilled.The thirdyear he suspected pipes
and ordered a trench to be dug round the building;
 208
but before the day of trial arrived, he was murdered,
as opportunely as Arius himself. The trench was dry,
but the workmen did not dig deep enough, and the
miracle was continued. When the victory of the ca
tholic partywas complete, it was no longer necessary
to keep it up. The same baptistery was employed to
convince the Spaniards of their error in keeping
Easter. In Brito's time, a few ruins called Oscla,
were shown near the river Cambria; the broken bap-
tistery was then called the Bath, and some wild su-
perstitions which the peasantry related bore traces of
the original legend. The trick was not uncommon;
it was practised in Sicily and in other places. The
story, however, is ofsome value, as showing that bap-
tism was administered only once a year, (except in
cases of danger) that immersion was the manner, and
that infants were baptized.
Arianism seems to have lingered in Spain, long af
ter its defeat. The name Pelayo, (Pelagius) and Arias,
certainly appear to indicate a cherished heresy, and
Britot must have felt this when he deduced the for-
mer name from Saint Pelayo of the tenth century;
for how came the saint by it, and how could Brito
have forgotten the founder ofthe Spanish monarchy?
In the later half ofthe eleventh century, the Count
ofBarcelona, Ramon Berenguer, Cap de estopa, as he
was called, for his bushy head, made war upon some

In the seventeenth, and last council ofToledo, it was

decreed that the baptistery should be shut up, and seal-
ed with the episcopal seal, during the whole year, till
Good Friday; on that day the bishop, in his pontificals,
was to open it with great solemnity, in token that
Christ, by his passion and resurrection, had opened
the way to heaven for mankind, as on that day the
hope was opened of obtaining redemption through the
holy sacrament of baptism.-Morales, 12. 62. 3.
† Monarchia Lusitana. 2. 7. 19.
ed: Diner gab ed of Honest a betalte bus
 209
Christians who are said to have turned Arians, and
took the castles into which they retired.* By the
number oftheir castles, which he gave to those clriefs
who assisted him in conquering them, they appear to
have been numerous. It is not improbable that those
people were really what they are called; for Arian
has never been, like Manichæan, a term ignorantly
andindiscriminately given to heretics of all descrip-
tions; and there is no heresy which would be so well
understood in Spain, and so likely to have revived
there.
The feelings of the triumphant party toward their
opponents, are well marked by the manner in which
St. Isidore speaks ofthe death of theEmperor Valens.
Thraciam ferro incendiisque depopulantur, deletoque
Romanorum exercitu ipsum Valentem jaculo vulnera
tum, in quadam villa fugientem succenderunt, ut met
rito ipse ab eis vivus temporali cremaretur incendio,
qui tam pulchras animas ignibus æternis† tradiderat.
Ifthe truth of this opinion should be doubted, there
is a good Athanasian miracle in the Chronicont ofS.
Isidoro and of Melitus, to prove it. A certain Arian,
by name Olympius, being in the bath, blasphemed
the Holy Trinity, and behold! being struck by an an-
gel with three fiery darts, he was visibly consumed.
With regard to the Arians, the catholics only did
to the others as the others would have done with
them; but the persecution of the Jews was equally
unprovoked and inhuman. They are said to have be-
trayed many towns to the Moors; and it would be
strange indeed if they had not, by every means in
their power, assisted in overthrowing a government

* Pere Tomich. c. 34.ff. 26.

Hist. Goth. apud Florez, Espana Sagrada, T. 6,
486.
‡ Espana Sagrada, T. 6. 474.
 210
under which they were miserably oppressed. St. Isi-
dore has a memorable passage relating to their cruel
persecution and compulsory conversion under Sise-
but. Qui initio regni Judæos ad Fidem Christianam
permovens æmulationem quidem habuit, sednonsecun-
dum scientiam:potestate enim compulit, quosprovocare
fidei ratione oportuit. Sed sicut est scriptum siveper oc
casionem sive per veritatam, Christus annuntiatur, in
hoc gaudeo et gaudebo.- S. Isidor. Christ. Goth. Es-
pana Sagrada, 6. 502.
The Moorish conquest procured for them an inter
val ofrepose, till the Inquisition was established, and
by its damnable acts put all former horrors out of re
membrance.
When Toledo was recovered from the Moors by
Alonso VI., the Jews of that city waited upon the
conqueror, and assured him that they were part ofthe
tentribes whom Nebuchadnezzar had transported into
Spain; not the descendants of the Jerusalem Jews who
had crucified Christ. Their ancestors, they said, were
entirely innocent ofthe crucifixion; for when Caiap-
phas the high-priest had written to the Toledan syna-
gogues to ask their advice respecting the person who
called himself the Messiah, and whether he should
be slain, the Toledan Jews returned for answer, that
in their judgment the prophecies seemed to be ful-
filled in this person, and therefore he ought not by
any means to be put to death. This reply they pro-
duced in the original Hebrew, and in Arabic, as it
had been translated by command of King Galifre.
Alonso gave ear to the story, had the letter rendered
into Latin and Castillian, and deposited it among the
archives of Toledo. The latter version is printed by
Sandoval:
Levi Archisinagogo, et Samuel, et Joseph, homes bonos
del Aljama de Toledo, a Eleazar Muyd gran Sacer
dote, e a Samuel Canud, y Anas, y Cayphas, homes
bonos de la Aljama de la Terra Santa, Salud en el
Dios de Israel.
 211
Azarias voso home, Maeso en ley nos aduxo cartus
que vos nos embiavades, por las quales nos faziades
saber cuemopassavalafacienda del Propheta Nazaret,
quedizquefacie muchassennas. Colo por esta vila non
ha mucho, un cierto Samuel, fil de Amacias, et fable
nusco, et reconto muchas bondades deste home, que ye,
que es home homildoso et manso, que fabla con los la-
çeriados, quefaz a todos bein, e quefaciendole a el mal,
el non faz mal a ninguem; et que es home fuerte con
superbos ethomes malos, et que vos malamente teniades
enemiga con ele, por quanto en faz el descubria vosos
pecados, capor quanto facia esto, le aviades mala vo-
luntad. Et perquirimos deste home, en que anno, o mes
o dia, avia nacido; et que nos lo dixesse: falamos que
el dia de la sua Natividadeforon vistos en estaspartes
tres soles muelle a muelle, se fizieron soldemente un sol;
et cuemo nosos padres cataron esta senna, asmados
dixeron que cedo el Messias naceria, et que por aven-
tura eraja nacido. Catad hermanos si por aventura ha
ja venido et non le ayades acatado. Relataba tambien el
susodicho home, que el suo pay le recontava, que ciertos
Magos, homes de mucha sapiencia, en la sua Nativi
dade legaron a tierra santa, perquiriendo logar donde
el ninno sancto era nacido; y que Herodes voso Rey se
asmo, et diposito junto a homes sabios de sua vila, e
perquirio donde naceria el Infante, por quien perqui-
rian Magos, et le respondieron, en Betlem de Juda, se
gun que Micheas depergino profeto. Et que dixeron
aqueles Magos, que una estrella de gran craredad, de
luenne aduxo a tierra santa; catad non sea esta quela
profezia, cataran Reyes, et andaran en craridad de la
sua Natividade. Otro si, catad non persigades al que
forades tenudos mucho honrar et recibir de bon talante.
Mais fazed lo que tuvieres por bien aguisada; nos vos
dezimos que nin por consejo, nin por noso alvedrio ve-
niremos en consentimiento de la sua morte. Ca, si nos
esto fizicssemos, logo seria nuesco, que la profezia que
diz, congregaronse de consuno contra el Sennor, et con-
tra el suo Messias. E damos vos este consejo, maguera
sodes homes de muyta supença, que tengades grande
 212
aficamento sobre tamana fazienda, porque el Dios de
Israel enojado con vusco, non destruyda casa segunda
de voso segundo templo. Ca sepades cierto, cedo ha de
ser destruyda; et por esta razon nosos antepassados,
que salieronde captiverio de Babylonia, siendo suoCap
itane Pyrro, que embio Rey Cyro, et aduxo nusco my-
tas riqueças que tollo de Babylonia el anno de sesenta
et nueve decaptividade, etforon recebidos en Toledo de
Gentiles que y moravan, et edificaron una grande Al-
jama, et non quesieron bolver a Jerusalem otra vegada
a edificar Temple, aviendo ser destruido otra vegada.
De Toledo catorze dias del mes Nisan, Era de Cesar
dies y ocho, y de Augusto Octaviano setenta y uno.—
Sandoval, 71.
Had Alonzo been as zealous as some of his Gothic
predecessors, or his Most Catholic successors, he
might have found a fair pretext in this letter for
ordering all the Jews of Toledo to the font, unless
they would show cause why they should adhere to
the opinion of Caiaphas and the Jerusalem Jews,
rather than to that oftheir own ancestors.
General Vallancy believes that the Spanish Jews
were brought into the Peninsula by Nebuchadnezzar,
and admits these Toledans as authority. He quotes
Count Gebelin, and refers to Strabo and Ezekiel.
The proof from Ezekiel rests upon the word Orb,
Earb, Warb, or Gharb; which is made into Algarve!
A Jew in Tirante el Blanco (p. 2. c. 74. f. 243.) ex-
plains the difference between the different races of
Jews. They are three, he says. One the progeny of
those who took counsel for the death of Christ; and
they were known by this, that they werein continual
motion, hands and feet, and never could rest; neither
could their spirit ever be still, and they had very little
shame. The second were the descendants of those
who put in execution and assisted at the various
parts of the sufferings and death of Christ, and they
never could look any man inthe face, nor could they,
without great difficulty, ever look up to heaven. The
 213
third were the children of David, who did all they
could to prevent the death of Christ, and shut them-
selves up in the Temple, that they might not witness
it. These are affable, good men, who love their neigh
bours; a quiet, peaceable race, who can look any
where.
Thomas Tomaio de Vargas, the editor ofthe spuri-
ous Luitprand, says, that not only many Hebrew
words are mixed with the old Spanish, but that, pró
dolor! the black and stinking Jewish blood had been
mingled with the most pure blood of the Spaniards.
(p. 96.) They were very anxious, he says, to inter-
marry, and spoil the pure blood. And he adds, that
the Spaniards call them putos, quia putant. " But,"
says Sir Thomas Brown, " that an unsavoury odour is
gentilitious, or national to the Jews, we cannot well
concede. And if, (according to good relations) where
they may freely speak it, they forbear not to boast
that there are at present many thousand Jews in
Spain, France, and England, and some dispensed
withal even to the degree of priesthood, it is a matter
very considerable, and could they be smelled out,
would much advantage not only the church ofChrist,
but also the coffers of princes.-The ground that
begat or propagated this assertion might be the dis-
tasteful averseness of the Christian from the Jew
upon the villainy of that fact, which made them abo-
minable, and "stink inthe nostrils ofallmen." Which
real practice and metaphorical expression did after
proceed into a literal construction; but was a fraudu-
lent illation; for such an evil savourtheir father Jacob
acknowledged in himself, when he said his sons had
made him stink in the land, that is, to be abominable
unto the inhabitants thereof.- Another cause is urged
by Campegius, and much received by Christians; that
this ill savour is a curse derived upon them by Christ,
and stands as a badge or brand of a generation that
crucified their Salvator. But this is a conceit without
all warrant, and an easy way to take off dispute in
whatpoint ofobscurity soever."-Vulgar Errors, Book
iv. ch. 10.
ose whatto.A tract by ho gayabout
& stringHelm elementing
 214
The Mahommedans also hold a like opinion ofthe
unsavouriness of the Jews, and account for it by this
legend, which is given by Sale. " Some ofthe children
of Israel abandoned their dwellings because of a
pestilence, or, as others say, to avoid serving in a re-
ligious war; but as they fled, God struck them all
dead in a certain valley. About eight days or more
after, when their bodies were corrupted, the Prophet
Ezekiel happening to pass that way, atthe sight wept;
whereupon God said to him, ' Call to them, O Ezekiel,
and I will restore them to life.' And accordingly, on
the prophet's call, they all arose, and lived several
years after; but they retained the colour and stench
ofdead corpses as long as they lived, and the clothes
they wore were changed as black as pitch, which
qualities they transmitted to their posterity."
One of our own travellers* tells us of a curious
practical application of this belief in Barbary. " The
Moors of Tangier," he says, " when they want rain,
and have prayed in vain for it, set the Jews to work,
saying, that though God would not grant it to the
prayers of the faithful, he would to the Jews, in order
to be rid of their stink." Ludicrous as this is, South
has a passage concerning the Jews, which is little
more reasonable, in one of his sermons. " The truth
is," he says, "they were all along a cross, odd, untow-
ard sort of people, and such as God seems to have
chosen, and (as the Prophets sometimes phrase it) to
have espoused to himself, upon the very same account
that Socrates espoused Xantippe, onlyforher extreme
ill conditions, above all that he could possibly find or
pick out of that sex; and so the fittest argument both
to exercise and declare his admirable patience to the
world." -Vol. i. 421.

Hist. ofthe Captivity ofThomas Pellow, p. 257.

 215
A yoke
Ofiron servitude oppress'd and gall'd
The children ofthe soil.-I. p. 1.
Ofthe condition of slaves under the Spanish Wisi-
goths, I have given an account in the Introduction to
the Chronicle of the Cid. This also, like the persecu⚫
tion of the Jews, must greatly have facilitated the
Moorish conquest. Another facilitating cause was,
that notwithstandingtheirfrequent civil disturbances,
they had in great measure ceased to be a warlike
people. The many laws in the Fuero Iuzgo, for com
pelling men to military service, prove this. These laws
are full ofcomplaints that the people would avoid the
service if they could. Habits of settled life seem
throughout Europe to have effeminated the northern
conquerors, till the Normans renovated the race, and
the institutions of chivalry and the crusades produc
ed a new era.
Thou, Calpe, saw'st their coming: ancient Rock
Renowned, no longer now shalt thou be called,
From Gods and Heroes ofthe years of yore,
Kronos, or hundred-handed Briareus,
Bacchus or Hercules; but doom'd to bear
The name ofthy new conqueror.-I. p. 2
Gibel-al-Tarif, the mountain of Tarif, is the re
• ceived etymology of Gibraltar: Ben Hazel, a Grana-2
dan Moor, says expressly, that the mountain derived
its name from this general. Its former appellations
may be seen in the Historia de Gibraltar, by Don
Ignacio Lopez de Ayala. The derivation of the word
Calpe is not known: Florian de Ocampo identifies it
with the English word galloping, in a passage which
will amuse the Spanish scholar. " La segunda nomb
radiafue llamarle Calpe, cuya razon, segun dicen algu-
nos, procedio de que los Andaluces ancianos en su len-
gua vieja solian llamar Calepas y Calpes a qualesquier
cosas enhiestas y levantadas, agora fuesen penascos, o
pizarras, omaderos, o piedras menores como lo signifi
camos en los diez y ocho capitulos precedentes: y dicen
 216
que con esta alli junto de Gibraltar sobre sus mariņas
el risco, que ya dixe muy encumbrado y enhiesto, qual
hoy diaparece, lo llamaban Calpes aquellos Andaluces
pasados: ypor surespecto la mesmapoblacion vinotam-
bien a tener despues aquel proprio nombre. No faltan
otraspersonas que siguiendo las Escrituras Griegas
pongan esta razon del nombre Calpes mucho diversa-
mente, diciendo, que quando los cosarios Argonautas
desembarcaron en Espana, serca del estrecho segun ya
lo declaramos, al tiempo que hacien sus exercicios ar-
riba dichos, de saltos y luchas, y musicas accordas, bien
asi como los pastores Espanoles comarcanos recibian
contentamientos grande, mirando las tales desenvoltu-
ras y ligerezas, no menos aquellos Griegos recien veni-
dos notaban algunosjuegos, dado que trabajosos y difi-
ciles, que los mesmos pastores obraban entre si para su
recreacion y deporte: particularmente consideraran un
regocijo de caballos, donde ciertos dias aplazados venian
todos a sejuntar como para cosa de granpundonor.
"El qual regocijo hacien desta manera. Tomabange
guas enpelo, quanto mas corredoras y ligeras podian
haber, ypuestos ellos encima desnudos sin alguna ropa,
ataban en las quixadas barbicachos de rama, torcidos
y majados a manera defreno, con que salian delpuesto
dos a dos a lapar corriendo lo mas que sus yeguas po-
dian, para llegar a cierta senal depizarras enhiestas o
de maderos hincados y levantados enfin de la carrera.
Venidos al medio trecho de su corrida saltaban de las
yeguas en tierra, no las parando ni deteniendo: y asi
trabadospor el barbicacho, corrian tambien ellos a pie,
sin las dexar,puesto que masfuria llevasen: porque si
las dexaban o se desprendian dellas, y no sustentaban
el freno continuamente, hasta ser pasada la carrera,
perdian la reputation y las apuestas, quedando tan
amenguados y vencidos, quanto quedaria triunfante
quien primero llegase con su yegua para tomar lapresa
que tenian en elfin de la carrera sobre las pizarras o
maderos hincados. Quando saltaban de sus yeguas,
dicen que les iban hablando porque no se detuviesen,
voceandoles y diciendoles a menudo palabras animosas
 217

ydulces: llamabanlespies hermosos,generosas en el cor-

rer, casta real, hembras preciosas, acrecentadoras de
sus honras, y mas otras razones muchas con que las
tenian vezadas, a no se parar ni perder el impetu co-
menzado: de manera que los tropeles en este punto, los
pundonores y regocijos de correr, y de no mostrarfloxe
dad era cosa mucho de notar, asi por la parte delos
hombres, como por parte de las yeguas. A los Griegos
Argonautas les parecio juego tan varonil que muchas
veces loprobaron tambien ellos a revuelta de los Espa
noles, como quiera que jamas pudieron tener aquella
vigilancia ni ligereza, ni reciura que tenian estos otros
para durar con sua yeguas. Y dano que las tales yegu-
ascorriesen hartofuriosas, y les ensenasen muchos dias
antes a seguir estas parejas, quanto mejor entendian a
la verdad, nilas de los unos, ni las de los otros corrian
tanto despues que saltaban dellas, como quando los
train encima: y asi las palabras que los Griegos en
aquella sazon puestos a pie hablaban eran tambien al
mesmo proposito conformes a las de los Andaluces
Espanoles en su lengua provincial, nombrandolas
Calopes, Calopes, Calopes a la continua, que fuepal-
abra Griega, compuesta de dos vocablos: uno Calos,
quesignificacosa hermosa, ligera y agraciada: otro Pus,
que quiere decir ple, como que las llamasen pies agra
ciados, opies desenvueltos y ligeros: ypor abreviar mas
el vocablo,para que sus yeguas lo pudiesen mas présta
sentir, acortabanlo con una letra menos en el medio, y
en lugar de nombrarlas Calopes, les deciam Calpes, que
significa lo mesmo Calopes: la qual palabra me parece
dura todavia hasta nuestro siglo presente, donde pocas
letras mudadas, por decir Calopes o Calpes, lo pronun-
ciamos Galopes, quando los caballos y yeguas, o qual-
esquier otros animales, no corren a todo poder sinotrote
largo seguido. Vino desto que las mesmas fiestas y
manera deljuego se nombraron Calpes: dado quepara
conmigo bastara saber la victoria destejuego consistir
en ligereza de pies, y por eso solo deberse llamar Calo-
pesoCalpe, sin anadir lo que hablaban a las yeguas,pues
aquello primero comprehende bastantemente la razon
K
 218
dest vocablo. Pero si todavia fue cierto que les decian
aquellas palabras quando corrian sus parejas, ninguna
cosa dana dexarlas aqui puestas."-Coronica General
de Espana, c. 38.
Famine andpestilence had wasted them.-I. p. 2.
In the reign of Egica, Witiza's father, plaga in-
guinalis immisericorditer illabitur. (1sid. Pacensis.)
And for two years before the Moorish invasion,-
habia habido continua hambre y pestilencia en Espana,
con que se habian debilitado mucho los cuerpos, sin le
que el ocio los habia emflaquecido.-Morales, 12. 69. 5.
St. Isidore, in his History of the Goths, distinctly
describes the Northern Lights among the signs that
announced the wars of Attila. " Multa eodem tempore
cali et terræ signapræcesserunt, quorumprodigiistam
crudele bellum significaretur. Nam, assiduis terræ mo-
tibus factis, a parte Orientis Luna fuscata est, a solis
occasu stella cometes apparuit, atque ingenti magnitu
dine aliquandiufulsit. 'Ab Aquilonis plaga cœlum ru-
bens, sicut ignis aut sanguis, effectus est, permistis
perigneum ruborem lineis clarioribus in speciem has
tarum rutilantium deformatis. Nec mirum, ut in tam
ingenti cœsorum strage, divinitus tam multa signorum
demonstraretur ostensio."- Espana Sagrada, T. vi. 491.
And worst ofenemies, their Sins were arm'd
Against them.-I. 2.
The following description ofthe state ofthe Chris-
tian world when the Saracens began their conquests,
is taken from a singular manuscript, " wherein the
history ofthe Cruisades and of all the Mahommedan
emperors from A. D. 568, to A. D. 1588, is gathered
out of the Chronikes of William Archbishop of
Tyreus, the protoscribe of Palestine, of Basilius Jho-
hannes Heraldus, and sundry others, and reduced into
a poem epike by Robert Barret, 1610." The author
was an old soldier, whose language is a compound of
Josuah Sylvester and King Cambyses, with a strong
relish of Ancient Pistol.
 219
Now in this sin-flood age not only in East
Did the impious imps the faithful persecute,
But like affliction them pursued in west,
And in all parts the good trod under foot,
For Faith in some was cold, from others fled;
And fear of God dislodged out human hearts;
Astrea flown to skies, and in her stead
Iniquity enthronized; in all parts
Violence had vogue, and on sathanized earth
Fraud, Mischief, Murder martialled the camp;
Sweet Virtue fled the field: Hope, out of breath;
And Vice, all-stainer, every soul did stamp;
So that it seem'd World drew to's evening tide,
Nought else expecting but Christ's second coming;
For Charity was cold on every side,
And Truth and Trust were gone from earth a-
mumming.
All things confused ran, so that it seemed
The World return would to his chaos old:
Princes the path ofjustice not esteemed,"
Headlong with prince ran people young and old.
All sainct confederations infringed,
And for light cause would prince with prince en-
quarrel;
Countries bestreamed with blood, with fire besinged,
All set to each, all murders sorts unbarrelled.
No wight his own could own; 'twas current coin
Each man to strip, provided he were rich.
The church sacriledged, choir made cot for swine,
And zealous ministers were made to scritche.
Robbing was made fair purchase, murder manhood,
And none secure by land ne sea could pass;
The humble heartless, irefull hearts ran wood,
Esteemed most who mischief most could dress.
All lubrick lusts shamelese without comptroll
Ran full career; each would a rider be;
And Heaven's friend, all-sainct Continency,
Was banished quite; Lasciviousness did roll,
Frugality, healthful Sobriety
No place could find: all parts enquartered were
 220
With Bacchus-brutes and Satyres-luxury.
All lawless games bore sway, with blasphemes
roare,
'Twixt Clerk and Laick difference was none,
Disguized all, phantastick out ofnorme;
But as the Prophet says, as Priests do run,
So run the people, peevish in disform.
The Bishops graded once, dumb dogs become,
Their heads sin-vyncting, flocks abandon soon;
Princes applauders, person-acceptors,
The good's debarrers and the bad's abettors;
Fleshly all, all filthy simonized,
Preferring profit 'fore the Eternal's praise.
The church enchismed, court all atheized,
The commons cankred, all all in distrayes,
The plotting politician's pate admired,
Their skill consisting in preventions scull,
Pathicks preferred, Cyprin ware desired,
Ocean ofmischiefs flowing moon-tide full:
So that it seem'd that all flesh desperately
Likewolf-scared sheep were plunged headlongdown
In pitt ofhell: puddled all pestfully
The court, church, commons, province, city, town;
All haggards; none reclaimed once could be,
Ne by the word, word 'bused by organs bad,
Ne yet by signs that spotted chrystal sky,
Ne other prodigies, presages sad,
Neither gust-shakings of this settled globe;
Neither sharp pencil ofwar, famine, pest,
Could once one ray engrave in steeled breast,
Or Christians cause their sin-jagg'd robe disrobe.
Thus stood the sad state of that sin stain'd time,
And Christians ofthis our all-zeal-cold time,
Let us now par'llel that time with our time.
Our parallel'd time will parallel that time,
Then triple-sainct, thou just geometer true,
Our time not parallel by thy justice line,
But with thy mercy's paralleling brow,
Reform our crimefull Angles by grace thine.
 221
He badethe river bearthe name ofjoy.-I. p. 3.
Guadalete had been thus interpreted to Florez
(Espana Sagrada, T. 9, p. 53.). Earlier writers had as-
serted, (but without proof) that the Ancients called
it Lethe, and the Moors added to these names their
word for river. Lope de Vega alludes to this opinion:
Siempre lamentable Guadalete
Que llevo tanta sangre al mar de Espana,
Sipor olvido se llamava el Lete
Trueque este nombre la vitoria estrana,
Y llamase memoria deste dia
En que Espanaperdis la que tenia.
Quepor donde à la mar entrava apenas
Diferenciando el agua, ya se via
Con roxo humor de las sangrientas venas
Por donde le cortava y dividia:
Gran tiempo conservaron sus arenas
(Ypienso que ha llegado a la edad mia)
Reliquias del estrago y piedras echas
Armas, hierros de lanzas y de flechas.
Jerusalen Conquistada, L. 6. ff. 136.
The date ofthe battle is given with grandiloquous
circumstantiality by Miguel de Barrios.
Salio latercer alva del tonante
Noviembre, con vestido nebuloso,
sobre el alado bruto que al brillante
carro, saca del pielago espumoso;
y en elfrio Escorpion casa rotante
delfiero Marte, el Astro luminoso
sal son que compasso sus plantas sueltas
dio setecientas y catorze bueltas.
Coro de las Musas, p. 100.
He states the chronology of Pelayo's accession in
the same taste.stulta ask
 222
Era el Pontificado del Segundo
Gregorio; Emperador Leon Tercere
del docto Griego; y del Persiano inmundo,
Zuleyman Miramamolinguerrero;
y de Daphne el amante rubicundo
surcava el mar delfulgido Carnero
sietecientas y diez Y ocho vezes,
dexando elpuerto de los aureos Pesces.
Ditto, p. 102.
Roderick's royal car.-I. p. 2.
"Roderike, the first day ofthe battayle, observing
the auncientguise ofhis countrey, came intothe fielde
apparailled in a gowne ofbeaten golde, having alsoon
his heada crown of gold, and golden shoes, and all his
other apparaile set with rich pearles, and precious
stones, ryding in a horse-litter of ivorie, drawne by
two goodly horses; which order the Gothes used al-
wayes in battailes for this consideration, that the
souldiours, well knowing their king could not es-
cape away by flight from them, shuld be assured that
there was none other way but either to die togither
in that place, or else to winne the victorie; for it had
bene a thing most shamefull and reproachfull to for-
sake their prince and anoynted soveraigne. Which
custome and maner many free confederate cities
of Italie folowing, trimmed and adorned for the
warres a certain chayre of estate, called Carosio,
wherein were set the penons and ensigns of all the
confederates; this chayre, in battaile, was drawn by
many oxen, wherby the whole hoast was given to un-
derstand that they could not with any honesty flie, by
reason of the slow pace and unweldinesse of those
heavie beasts."-A Notable Historie of the Saracens,
drawen out of Augustine Curio, and sundry othergood
Authours. By Thomas Newton, 1575.
En ruedas de marfil, envueltoen sedas,
De oro lafrente orlada, y mas dispuesto
Altriunfo y al festin que a la pelea,
 223
Elsucesor indigno de Alarico
Llevo tras si la maldicion eterna.
Ah! yo la vi: la lid por siete dias
Duro, más nofue lid,fue una sangrienta
Carniceria: huyeron los cobardes
Los traidores vendieron sus banderas,
Losfuertes, los lealesperecieron.
Quintana.
The author of the chivalrous Chronicle of King
Don Rodrigo gives a singular description of this car,
upon the authority ofhis pretended original Eleas
tras; for he, " seeing that calamities went on increas
ing, and thatthe destruction ofthe Goths was at hand,
thought thatifthings were to end as they had begun, it
would bea marvel ifthere should be in Spain any king
or lord ofthe lineage ofthe Gothsafterthe death ofthe
King Don Rodrigo; and therefore it imported much
that he should leave behind him a remembrance of
the customs of the Gothic kings, and of the manner
in which they were wont to enter into battle and how
they went to war. And he says, that the king usedto
go in a car made after a strange fashion. The wheels
of this car were made ofthe bones of elephants, and
the axle-tree was of fine silver, and the perch was of
fine gold. It was drawn by two horses, who were of
great size, and gentle; and upon the car there was
pitched a tent, so large that it covered the whole car,
and it was of fine cloth of gold, upon which were
wrought all the great feats in arms which had been
achieved until that time; and the pillar of the tent
was ofgold, and many stones ofgreat value were set
in it, which sent forth such splendour, that by night
there was no need of any otherlight therein. And the
car and the horses bore the same adornments as the
king, and these were full of pearls, the largest which
could be found. And in the middle of the car there
was a seat placed against the pillar ofthe tent; and
thisseat was of great price, insomuch that the value
of it cannot be summed up, so many and so great
 224
were the stones which were set in it; and it was
wrought so subtly, and of such rare workmanship,
that they who saw it marvelled thereat. And upon
this seat the king was seated, being lifted up so high
that all in the host, little or great, might behold him.
And in this manner it was appointed that the king
should go to war. And round about the car therewere
to go a thousand knights, who had all been knighted
by the hand of the king, all armed; and in the day of
battle they were to be on foot round about the car;
and all plighted homage to the king not to depart
from it in any manner whatsoever, and that they
would rather receive their death there, than go from
their place beside the car. And the king had his
crown upon his head. And in this guise all the kings
of the Goths, who had been lords of Spain, were to go
to battle; and this custom they had all observed till
the King Don Rodrigo; but he, because of the great
grief which he had in his heart, would never ascend
the car, neither did he go in it into the battle."-Part
i. c. 215.
Entrò Rodrigo en la batallafiera,
Armado en blanco de un arnes dorado,
El yelmo coronado de una esfera
Que en luzes vence al circulo estrellado:
En unas ricas andas, 6 litera
Que al hijo de Climene despenado
Enganaram mejor que el carro de oro
De ygualpeligro, y de mayor tesoro.
Lapurpura real las armas cubre,
Elgrave rostro en magestad le bana,
El ceptropor quien era le descubre
Rodrigo ultimo Godo Rey de Espana:
Mas de la suert que en lluvioso Otubre
Lo verde que le viste ya compana
Desnuda al olmo blanco, rompe y quita
Fulturno ayrado que al invierno ineitas
 225
Caen las hojas sobre el agua clara
Que le banava el pie, y el ornamento
Del tronco imita nuestra edad quepara
En su primero humildefundamento:
Desierta queda la frondosa vara,
Sigue la rama, en remolino, al viento,
Que la aparta del arbol, que saltea
Su blanca, verde, ypalida librea.
Assi Rodrigo el miserable dia
Ultimo de estaguerra desdichada
Quedo en el campo, donde ya tenia
La magestaddel ombro derribada:
Alli la rota pupura yazia
Tenida en sangre, y en sudor vanada,
Alli el verde laurel, y el ceptro deoro,
Siendo el arbol su cuerpo, el viento el Moro.
Lope de Vega. Jerusalen Conquistada, L. vi. f. 136.
That helm,
Whose horns amid the thickest ofthefray
Eminent, had mark'd his presence.-I. p. 2,
Morales describes this horned helmet from a coin.
" Tiene de la una parte su rostro, harto diferente de los
que enlas otras Monedas de estas Reyesparecen. Tiene
manera de estar armado, y salenlepor cima de la cela-
da unas puntas como cuernos pequenos y derechospor
amboslados, que lo hacen estrano y espantable." Florez
has given this coin in his Medallas de Espana, from
the only one which was known to be in existence,
and which was then in the collection of the Infante
D. Gabriel. It was struck at Egitania, the present
Idana, and, like allthe coins ofthe Wisigoth kings, is
ofthe rudest kind. The lines which Morales describes
are sufficiently apparent, and if they are not intend-
ed for horns, it is impossible to guess what else they
may have been meant to represent.
"These Gothic coins," says P. D. Jer: Contador de
Argote, " have a thousand barbarisms, as well in their
letters as inother circumstances. They mingle Greek
K2
 226

characters with Latin ones; and in what regards the

reliefor figure, nothing can be more dissimilar than
the representation to the thing which it is intended
to represent. I willrelate what happened to me with
one, however much D. Egidio de Albornos de Mace-
do may reprehend me for it in his Parecer Anatho-
mico. Valerio Pinto de Sa, an honourable citizen of
Braga, ofwhom, in various parts ofthese Memoirs, I
have made well-deserved mention, and of whose
friendship I have been proud ever since I have been
in that city, gave me, some six or seven years ago, a
gold coin ofKing Leovigildo, who was the first of the
Gothic Kings of Spain that coined money, for till
then both Goths and Sueves used the Roman. I ex-
amined it leisurely, and what I clearly saw was a
cross on the one side upon some steps, and some ill-
shaped letters around it; and on the reverse some-
thing,I knew not what: It seemed to me like a tree,
or a stake which shot out some branches: Bund
about were some letters, more distinct: I could not,
however, ascertain what they signified. It happened
about that time that I had the honour of a visit from
the most illustrious Sr. D. Francisco de Almeida, then
a most worthy academician of the Royal Academy,
and at present a most deserving and eminent Princi-
pal ofthe Holy Patriarchal Church. He saw this coin,
and he also was puzzled by the side which represent-
ed what I called a tree. He asked me to lend it him,
that he might examine it more at leisure. He took it
away, andafter some days returned it, saying, that he
had examined it with a microscope, and that what I
had taken for a stake was without question the por
trait of King Leovigildo. I confess that I was not yet
entirely satisfied: however I showed it afterwards
to divers persons, all of whom said that they knew
not what the said figure could be; but when I desired
themto see ifit could be this portrait,they all agreed
that it was. This undeceived me, and by looking at
the coin in every possible light, at last I came to see
it also, and acknowledge the truth withthe rest. And
 227
afterwards I found in the Dialogues of Antonio Ago
stinho, treating of these Gothic coins, that there are
some of such rude workmanship, that where a face
should be represented, some represent a pitcher, and
others an urn."-Memorias de Braga, T. iii. P. lix.
He found himself on Ana's banks,
Fast by the Caulian schools.- I. p. 5.
The site of this monastery, which was one of the
most flourishing seminaries of that age, is believed to
have been two leagues from Merida, upon the Gua
diana, where the Ermida, or Chapel of Cubillana,
stands at present, or was standing a few years ago.
The legend, from which I have taken such circum-
stances as might easily have happened, and as suited
my plan, was invented by a race of men who, in the
talent of inventing, have left all poets and romances
far behind them. Florez refers to Brito for it, and ex-
cuses himself from relating it, because it is not neces
sary to his subject;-in reality he neither believed
the story, nor chose to express his objections to it.
His disbelief was probably founded upon the suspici-
ous character of Brito, who was not at that time so
decidedly condemned by his countrymen as he is at
present. I give the legend from this veracious Cister-
cian. Most ofhis other fabrications have been explod-
ed, but this has given rise to a popular and fashiona
ble idolatry, which still maintains its ground.
"The monk did not venture to leave him alone in
that disconsolate state, and taking him apart, be-
sought him by the passion of Jesus Christ to consent
that they twain should go together, and save a vene-
rable image of the Virgin Mary our Lady, which in
that convent flourished with great miracles, and had
been brought from the city of Nazareth by a Greek
monk, called Cyriac, at such time as a heresy in the
parts of the East arose against the use and venera-

* Espanna Sagrada, T. xiii. p. 242.

 228
tion ofimages; and with it a relic of the Apostle St.
Bartholomew, and another of St. Bras, which were
kept in an ivory coffer, for it would be a great sacri-
lege to leave them exposed to the ill treatment of
barbarians,who,according to public fame, left neither
temple nor sacred place which they did not profane,
casting the images into the fire, and dragging them
at their horses tails for a greater opprobrium to the
baptized people. The king, seeing himself thus con-
jured by the passion of our Redeemer Jesus Christ,
in whom alone he had consolation and hope ofreme
dy, and considering the piety of the thing in which
he was chosen for companion, let himself be over
come by his entreaties; and taking in his arms the
little image of our Lady, and Romano the coffer with
the relics, with some provision for the journey, they
struck into the middle of Portugal, having their faces
alway toward the west, and seeking the coast of the
ocean sea, because in those times it was a land more
solitary, and less frequented by people, where they
thought the Moors would not reach so soon, because,
as there were no countries to conquer in those parts,
there was no occasion whichshould lead them thither.
Twenty-and-six days the two companions travelled
without touching at any inhabited place, and after
enduring many difficulties in crossing mountains and
fording rivers, they had sight ofthe ocean sea onthe
22d of November, being the day ofthe Virgin Martyr
St. Cecilia; and as if in that place they should have
an end of their labours, they took some comfort,
and gave thanks to God, for that he had saved them
from the hand of their enemies. The place which
they reached is in the Coutos of Alcobaça, near to
where we now see the town of Pederneira, on the
eastern side ofwhich there rises, in the midst of cer
tain sands, ahill of rock and firm land, somewhat pro-
longed from north to south, so lofty and well propor
tioned that it seemed miraculously placed inthat site,
beingsurrounded on all sides with plains covered with
sand, without height or rock to which it appears con-
 229
nected. And forasmuch as the manner thereof draws
to it the eyes of whosoever beholds this work of na-
ture, the king and the monk desired to ascend the
height of it, to see whether it would afford a place
forthem in which to pass their lives. They found there
a little hermitage with a holy crucifix, and no other
signs ofman, save only a plain tomb, without writing
or epitaph to declare whose it might be. The situation
of the place, which, ascending to a notable height,
gives a prospect by sea and by land as far as the eyes
can reach, and the sudden sight ofthe crucifix, caused
in the mind of the king such excitementand so g eat
consolation, that, embracing the foot ofthe cross, he
lay there melting away in rivers oftears, not now of
grief for the kingdoms and dominions which he had
lost, but of consolation at seeing that in exchange
the crucified Jesus himself had in this solitary moun-
tain offered himselfto him, in whose company he re-
solved to pass the remainder of his life; and this he
declared to the monk, who, to content him, and also
because he saw that the place was convenient for
contemplation, approved the king's resolve, and abode
there with him some days; during which perceiving
some inconvenience in living upon the summit ofthe
mountain, from whence it is necessary to descend
with much labour, whenever they would drink, or
seek for herbs and fruits for their food; and moreover
understanding that it was the king'sdesire to remain
there alone, that he might vent himself in tears and
exclamations, which he made oftentimes before the
image of Christ, he went with his consent to a place
little more than a mile from the mountain, which be
ing on the one side smooth and of easy approach,
hangs on the other over the sea with so huge a pre-
cipice that it is two hundred fathoms in perpendicu
lar height, from the top of the rock to the water.
There, between two great rocks, each of which pro-
jects over the sea, hanging suspended from the height
in such a form, that they seem to threaten destruc
tion to him who sees them from the beach, Romane
 230
found a little cave, made naturally in the cliff, which
he enlarged with some walls of loose stone, built up
with his own hands, and having thus made a sort of
hermitage, he placed therein the image of the Virgin
Mary of Nazareth, which he had brought from the
Caulinean convent, and which being small, and of a
dark colour, with the infant Jesus in its arms, hath
in the countenance a certain perfection, with a mo-
desty so remarkable that at first sight it presents
something miraculous; and having been known and
and venerated so great a number of years, during
many of which it was in a place which did not pro-
test it from the injuries of weather, it hath never
be painted, neither hath it been found necessary.
to renew it. The situation of this hermitage was, and
is now, within sight ofthe mountain where the king
dwelt; and though the memorials from whence I am
deriving the circumstances of these events do not
specify it,it is to be believed that they often saw each
other, and held such divine communion as their mode
of life and the holiness ofthe place required; especi
ally considering the great temptations of the devil
which the king suffered at the beginning of his peni
tence, for which the counsels and instructions ofthe
monk would be necessary, and the aid of his prayers,
and the presence of the relics of St. Bartholomew,
which miraculously saved him many times from vari-
ous illusions of the enemy. And in these our days
there are seen upon the top of the mountain, in the
living rock, certain human footsteps, and others ofa
different form, which the common people, without
knowing the person, affirm to be the footsteps of St.
Bartholomew and the Devil, who was there defeated
and his illusions confounded by the saint, coming in
aid of a devout man, who called upon him in the
force of his tribulation. This must have been theking,
(though the common people know it not) whom the
saint thus visibly aided, and he chose that for a me
morial of this aid, and of the power which God has
given him over the evilspirits, these marks should re
 231
main impressed upon the living rock. And the anci-
ent name ofthe mountain being Seano, it was changed
into that of the Apostle, and is called at present St.
Bartholomew's; and the hermitage which remains
upon the top of it is under the invocation ofthe same
saint and of St. Bras, which must have arisen from
the relics of these two saints that Romano brought
with him, and left with the king for his consolation,
when he withdrew with the image of Our Lady to the
place of which we have spoken, where he lived little
more than a year; and then knowing the time ofhis
death, he communicated it to the king, beseeching
him that, in requital for the love with which be had
accompanied him, he would remember to pray to dod
for his soul, and would give his body to the earth,
from which it had sprung; and that having to depart
from that land, he would leave there the image and
the relics, in such manner as he should dispose them
before he died. With that Romano departed to enjoy
the reward deserved by his labours, leaving the king
with fresh occasion of grief for want of so good a
companion. Of what more passed in this place, and
ofthe temptations and tribulations which he endured
till the end of his life, there is no authentic historian,
nor memorial which should certify them, more than
some relations mingled with fabulous tales in the an-
cient Chronicle of King Don Rodrigo, where, among
the truths which are taken from the Moor Rasis,
there are many things notoriously impossible; such
as the journey which the king took, being guided by
a white cloud till he came near Viseo; and the pe-
Inance in which he ended his life there, inclosing him-
selfalive in a certain tomb with a serpent which he
had bred for that purpose. But as these are things
difficult to believe, we pass them over in silence, leav
ing to the judgment of the curious the credit which
an ancient picture deserves, still existing near Viseo,
in the church of St. Michael, over the tomb of the
said King Don Roderick, in which is seen a serpent
painted with two heads; and in the tomb itself, which
 232
is ofwrought stone, a round hole, through which they
say thatthe snake entered. That which is certain of
all this is, as our historians relate, that the king came
to this place, and in the hermitage of St. Michael,
which we now see near Viseo, ended his days in great
penance, no man knowing the manner thereof; nei-
ther was there any other memorial clearer than that
in process oftime a writing was found upon a certain
tomb in this church, with these words; Hic reeviescit
Rudericus ultimus Rex Gothorum, Here rests Rode-
rick, the last King ofthe Goths. I remember to have
seen these very words written in black upon an arch
of the wall, which is over the tomb ofthe king, al-
though the Archbishop Don Rodrigo, and they who
follow him, give a longer inscription, not observing
that all which he has added are his own curses and
imprecations on Count Don Julian (as Ambrosio de
Morales has properly remarked, following the Bishop
of Salamanca and others,) and not parts of the same
inscription, as they make them. The church in which
is the tomb ofthe king, is at present very small, and
ofgreat antiquity, especially the first chapel, joined
to which on either side is a cell of the same length,
but narrow, and dark also, having no more light than
what enters through a little window opening tothe
east. In one ofthese cells (that which is on the south
side) it is said that a certain hermit dwelt, by whose
advice the king governed himselfin the course of his
penance; and at this time his grave is shown close to
the walls of the chapel, on the Epistle side. In the
other cell (which is on the north) the king past his
life, paying now, in the straitness of that place, for
the largeness of his palaces, and the liberties of his
former life, whereby he had offended his Creator.
And in the wall of the chapel which answers to the
Gospel side, there remains a sort of arch, in which
the tomb is seen, wherein are his bones; and it is de-
Foutlyvisited by the natives, who believe that through
his means the Lord does miracles there upon persons
afflicted with agues and other-like maladies. Under
 233
the said arch, in the part answering to it in the in-
side of the cell, I saw painted on the wall the hermit
and the king, with the serpent with two heads, and I
read the letters which are given above, all defaced by
time, and bearing marks of great antiquity, yet so
that they could distinctly be seen. The tomb is flat
and made of a single stone, in which a man's body
can scarcely find room. When I saw it it was open,
the stone which had served to cover it not being
there, neither the bones of the king, which they told
me had been earried into Castille some years before,
but in what manner they knew not, nor by whose or
der; neither could I discover, by all the enquiries
which I made among the old people of that city, who
had reason to be acquainted with a thing of so much
importance, if it were as certain as some ofthem af-
firmed it to be."-Brito, Monarchia Lusitania, P. ii. L
7. c. 3.
"The great venerableness of the Image of Our
Lady of Nazareth which the king left hidden in the
very place where Romano in his lifetime had placed it,
and the continual miracle which she showed formerly,
and still shows," induced F. Bernardo de Brito to
continue the history of this Image, which, no doubt,
he did the more willingly because he bears a part in
it himself. In the days of Affonso Henriquez, the first
king ofPortugal, this part ofthe country was govern-
ed by D. Fuas Roupinho, a knight famous in the
Portugueze chronicles, who resided in the castle at
Porto de Mos. This Dom Fuas, " when he saw the
land secure from enemies, used often to go out hunt
ing among the sands and thickets between the town
and the sea, where, in those days, there used to be
great store of game, and even now, though the land
is so populous, there is still some; and as he followed
his exercise, the proper pastime of noble and spirited
men, and came sometimes to the sea shore, he came
upon that remarkable rock, which being level on the
side ofthe north, and on a line with the flat country,
ends towards the south in a precipice over the waves
 234
ofthe sea, ofa prodigious height, causing the greater
admiration to him who, going over the plain country
without finding any irregularity, finds himself, when
least expecting it, suddenly on the summit of such a
height. And as he was curiously regarding this natural
wonder, he perceived between the two biggest cliffs
which stand out from the ground and project over
the sea, a sort of house built of loose stones, which,
from its form and antiquity, made him go himselfto
examine it; and descending by the chasm between
the two rocks, he entered into a low cavern, where,
upón a little altar, he saw the venerable Image of
the Virgin Mary of Nazareth, being of such perfec
tion and modesty as are found in very few images of
that size. The catholic knight venerated it with all
submission, and would have removed it to his castle
of Porto de Mos, to have it held in more veneration,
but that he feared to offend it if he should move it
from a habitation where it had abode for so many.
years. This consideration made him leave it for the
present in the same place and manner in which he
found it; and although he visited it afterwards when
in course of the chase he came to those parts, never-
theless he never took in hand to improve the poor
hermitage in which it was, nor would he have done
it, if the Virgin had not saved him from a notorious
danger of death, which, peradventure, God permit-
ted, as a punishment for his negligence, and in this
manner to make the virtue of the Holy Image
manifest to the world. It was thus, that going to his
ordinary exercise of the chase, in the month of Sep.
tember, in the year of Christ 1182, and on the 14th
of the month, being the day on which the church
celebrates the festival of the Exaltation of the Cross,
upon the which Christ redeemed the human race, as
the day rose thick with clouds, which ordinarily arise
from the sea, and the country round about could not
be seen by reason of the clouds, save for a little
space, it befell that the dogs put up a stag, (if indeed
it were one) and Dom Fuas pressing his horse in
Well to bespracticaland Ar
dating ,for frive such a en by
 235
pursuit, without fear of any danger, because he
thought it was all plain ground, and the mist hinder-
ed him from seeing where he was, found himself upon
the very edge of the rock on the precipice, two hun.
dred fathoms above the sea, at a moment when it was
no longer in his power to turn the reins, nor could
he do any thing more thaninvoke the succours ofthe
Virgin Mary, whose image was in that place; and she
succoured him in such a manner, that less than two
palms from the edge of the rock, on a long and
narrow point thereof, the horse stopt as if it had
been made ofstone, the marks of his hoofs remaining
in proof of the miracle imprinted in the living rock,
such as at this day they are seen by all strangers and
persons on pilgrimages, who go to visit the Image of
Our Lady; and it is a notable thing, and deserving of
serious consideration, to see that in the midst of this
rock, upon which the miracle happened, and on the
side towards the east, and in a part where, because
it is suspended in the air, it is not possible that any
human being could reach, Nature herself has impress-
ed a cross as if nailed to the hardness of the rock, as
though she had sanctified that cliff therewith, and
marked it with that holy sign, to be the theatre in
whichthe miraculous circumstance was tobe celebrat
ed; which, by reason that it took place on the day of
the Exaltation of the Cross, seemed as if it showed
the honour and glory which should from thence re-
dound to the Lord who redeemed us thereon. Dom
Fuas seeing himself delivered from so great danger,
and knowing from whence the grace had come to
him, went to the little hermitage, where, with the
great devotion which the presence of the miracle oc-
casioned, he gave infinite thanks to the Lady, accus-
ing himselfbefore her of having neglected to repair
the house, and promising all the amends which his
possibility permitted. His huntsmen afterwards arriv-
ed, following the track of the horse, and knowing the
marvel which had occurred, they prostrated them-
selves before the Image ofthe Lady, adding with their
 236
astonishment to the devotion of Dom Fuas, who hear
ing that the stag had not been seen, and that the dogs
had found no trackofhimin any part, though onehad
been represented before him to draw him on, under.
stood that it was an illusion of the devil, seeking by
that means to make him perish miserably. All these
considerations enhanced the greatness of the miracle,
and the obligations of Dom Fuas, who, tarrying there
some days, made workmen come from Leyria and
Porto de Mos, to make another hermitage, in which
The Lady should be more venerated; and as they
were demolishing the first, they found placed between
the stones ofthe altar, a little box ofivory, and within
it relics of St. Bras, St. Bartholomew, and other
saints, with a parchment, wherein a relation was
given of how, and at what time those relics and the
image were brought there, according as has been
aforesaid. A vaulted chapel was soon made, after a
good form for times so ancient, over the very place
where The Lady had been; and to the end that it
might be seen from all sides, they left it open with
four arches, which in process of time were closed, to
prevent the damage which the rains and storms did
within the chapel, and in this manner it remains in
our days. The Lady remained in her place, being soon
known and visited by the faithful, who flocked there
upon the fame of her appearance; the valiant and
holy King D. Affonso Henriquez, being one of the
first, whom Dom Fuas advised of what had happen
ed, and he, accompanied with the great persons of
his court, and with his son, D. Sancho, came to
visit the Image of The Lady, and see with his own
eyes the marks of so rare a miracle as that which had
taken place; and with his consent, D. Fuas made a
donation to The Lady of a certain quantity of land
round about, which was at that time a wild thicket,
and for the greater part is so still, being well nigh all
wild sands incapable of giving fruit, and would pro-
duce nothing more than heath and some wild pine
trees. And because it establishes the truth of all that
 237
I have said, and relates in its own manner the history
of the Image of The Lady, I will place it here in the
form in which I sawit in the Record-Room at Alco-
baça, preserving throughout the Latin, and the bar
barism ofits composition: which is as follows:
" Sub nomine Patris, nec non et ejus prolis, in unius
potentia Deitatis, incipit carta donationis, necnon et
devotionis, quam ego Fuas Ropinho tenens Porto de
Mos, et terram de Albardos usque Leirenam, et Turres
Veteres,facio Ecclesiae Santa Maria de Nazareth, quæ
de pauco tempore surgit fundata super mare, ubi de
sæculis antiquisjacebat, inter lapides et spinas multas,
de tota illa terra quæjacet inter flumina quæ venitper
Alcoubaz, et aquam nuncupatam de furaturio, et divi-
ditur de isto modo: de illafozde flumine Alcobaz, quo-
modo vadit per aquas bellas, deinde inter mare et mata
de Patayas usque; finir in ipso furaturio, quam ego
obtinui de rege Alfonso, et per suum consensum facio
præsentem seriem ad prædictam Ecclesiam Beato
Mariæ Virginis, quam feci supra mare, ut in sæculis
perpetuis memorentur mirabilia Dei, et sit notum om
nibus hominibus, quomodo a mortefuerim salvatusper
pietatem Dei et Beatae Mariae quam vocant de Nazaret,
tali sucesu. Cum manerem in castro Porto de Mos, et
inde veniebam ad ocidendos venatos, per Melvam et
matam de Patayas usque ad mare, supra quam inveni
furnam, et parvam domunculam inter arbustas et
vepres, in qua erat una Imago Virginis Marie, et
veneravimus illam, et abivimus inde; veni deinde xviii
kal. Octobris, circa dictum locum, cum magna obscura-
tione nebula sparsa super totam terram, et invenimus
venatum, tres quemfui in meo equo, usque venirem
ad esbarrondadeiro supra mare, quod cadit ajuso sine
mensura hominis, et pavet visus si cernit furnam
cadentam ad aquas: Pavi cgo miser peccator, et ventt
ad remembrancam de imagine ibi posita, et magna
voce dixi. SANCTA MARIA VAL. Benedicta sit illa
in mulieribus, quia meum equm sicut si esset lapis
fecit stare pedibusfixis in lapide, et eratjam vazatus
 238
extra terram in punta de saxo super mare. Descendi
de equo, et veni ad locum ubi erat imago, et ploravi et
gratiasfeci, et venerunt monteiros et viderunt, et lau-
daverunt Deum et Beatam Mariam; Mişi hominesper
Leirenam et Porto de Mos, et per loca vicina, ut veni-
rent Alvanires, etfacerent ecclesiam bono opere opera-
tam defornice et lapide, et jam laudatur Deus finita
est. Nos vero non sciebamus unde esset, et unde venisset
ista imago; sed ecce cum destruebatur altare per Alva
nires, inventa est arcula de ebore antiquo, et in illa uno
envoltorio, in quo erant ossa aliquorum sanctorum, et
cartul cum hac inscriptione: Hic sunt reliquiæ Sancto-
rum Blasii et Bartholomei Apostoli, quas detulit a
Monasterio Cauliniana Romanus monachus, simul cum
venerabili Imagine Virginis Maria de Nazareth, quæ
olim in Nazareth Civitate Gallileo multis miraculis
claruerat, et inde asportata per Græcum monachum
nomine Cyriacum , Gothorum, Regum tempore, inpræ-
dicto monasterio per multum temporis manserat, quo
usque Hispania à Mauris debelata, et Rex Rodericus
superatus in prælio solus, lacrymabilis, abjectus, et
pene difficiens pervenit ad præfatum monasterium
Cauliniana, ibique a predicto Romano pœnitentiæ et
Eucharistia Sacramentis susceptis, pariter cum illo,
cum imagine, et reliquiis ad Seanum montem pervene-
runt 10 kal. Decemb. in quo rex solusper annum inte-
grumpermansit, in Ecclesia ibi inventa cum Christi
crucifixi imagine, et ignoto sepulchro. Romanus vero
cum hac Sacra Virginis effigic inter duo ista saxa,
usque ad extremum vita permansit; et nefuturis tem-
poribus aliquem ignorantia teneat, hac cum reliquiis
sacris in hac extrema orbis parte recondimus. Deus
ista omnia a Maurorum manibus servet. Amen. De
his lectis et a Presbyteris apertis satis multum sumus
gavisi, quia nomen de sanctis reliquiis, et de Virgine
scivimus, et ut memorentur per semper in ista serie
testamenti scriberefecimus. Doigitur prædictam hære-
ditatempro reparatione prefatre Ecclesive cum pascuis,
et aquis, de monte infonte, ingressibus et regressibus,
quantum aprestitum hominis est, et illam in melhio
 239
rato foro aliquis potest habere per se. Ne igitur aliquis
homo de nostris vel de estraneis hoc factum nostrum
ad irrumpendum veniat, quod si tentaverit peche ad
dominum terræ trecentos marabitinos, et carta nihilo-
minus in suo robore permaneat, et insuper sedeat
excommunicatus et cum Juda proditore pœnas luat
damnatorum. Facta series testamenti vi Idus Decemb.
era M,CLXX. Alfonsus Portugalia Rex confirm.
Sancius Rex confirm. Regina Dona Tarasia confirm.
Petrus Fernandez, regis Sancii dapifer confirm. Me-
nendus Gunsalui, ejusdem signifer confirm. Donus
Joannes Fernandez curiæ regis maiordomus confirm.
Donus Julianus Cancellarius regis confirm. Martiniis
Gonsalui Pretor Colimbria onfirm. Petrus Omariz
Capellanus regis confirm. Menendus Abbas confirm.
Theotonius conf. Fernandus Nuniz, testes. Egeas Nu-
niz, testis. Dn Telo, testis. Petrus Nuniz, testis. Fer-
nandus Vermundi, testis. Lucianus Præsbyter, No-
tavit."
"This deed. which establishes all the principalfacts
that I have related, did not take effect, because the
Jands of which it disposed were already part of the
Coutos of Alcobaça, which King Dom Affonso had
given some years before to our father St. Bernard;
and Dom Fuas compensated for them with certain
properties near Pombal, as is proved by another writ-
ing annexed to the former, but which I forbear to
insert, as appertaining little to the thread of my his-
tory; and, resuming the course thereof, you must
know that the image ofthe Virgin Mary of Nazareth
remained in the chapel which Dom Fuas made for it,
till the year of Christ, 1377, in the which, King Dom
Fernando of Portugal founded for it the house in
which it now is, having been enlarged and beautified
by Queen Dona Lianor, wife of King Dom Joam II,
and surrounded with porticoes by King Dom Manoel.
And now in our times a chapel (Capela mor) of good
fabric has been built, with voluntary contributions,
and the rents of the brotherhood; and in the old her
In such days, such and invection
might have been valuable -
 240
initage founded by Dom Fuas, I, with the help of
some devout persons, had another chapel opened
under ground, in order to discover the very rock and
cavern in which the Holy Image had been hidden so
great a number of years; there is a descent to it by
eight or ten steps, and a notable consolation it is to
those who consider the great antiquity of that sanc-
tuary. And for that the memory of things so remarka-
ble ought not to be lost, I composed an inscription
briefly recounting the whole: and Dr. Ruy Lourenço,
who was then Provedor of the Comarca of Leyria,
and visitor of the said church for the king, ordered
it to be engraven in marble. It is as follows:
" Sacra Virginis Maria veneranda Imago, a Monas
terio Cauliniana prope Emeritam, quo Gothorum tem-
pore, a Nazareth translata, miraculis claruerat, in
generali Hispania clade, Ann. Dni. DCCXIIII, a Ro-
mano monacho, comite, ut fertur, Roderico Rege, ad
hanc extremam orbis partem adducitur, in qua dum
unus moritur, alter proficiscitur, per CCCCLXIX.
annos inter duo hæc prærupta saxa sub parvo delituit
tugurio: deinde a Fua Ropinio, Portus Molarum duce,
anno Domini MCLXXXII, (ut ipse in donatione testa-
tur)inventa, dum incaute agitato equofugacem, fictum
queforte, insequitur cervum, ad ultimumque immanis
hujus præcipitii cunéum, jam jam ruiturus accedit,
nomine Virginis invocato, a ruina, et mortis faucibus
ereptus, hoc eiprius dedicat sacellum; tandem a Ferdi-
nando Portugalia Rege, ad majus aliud templum, quod
ipse afundamentis erexerat transfertur, Ann. Domini
MCCCLXXVII. Virgini et perpetuitati D.D.F.B.D.B.
exvoto."
"From these things, taken as faithfully as I possi-
bly could from the deed of gift and from history, we
see clearly the greatantiquity ofthis sanctuary, since
it is 893 years since the Image of The Lady was
brought to the place where it now is; and although
we do not know the exact year in which it was

ingavel 1 Amonk who Ruur

And did w Kourytoe.
 241
brought from Nazareth, it is certain at least that it
was before King Recaredo, who began to reign in
the year of Christ 586; so that it is 1021 years, a little
more or less, since it came to Spain; and as it came
then, as one well known, and celebrated for miracles
in the parts of the East, it may well be understood
that this is one of the most famous and ancient
Images, and nearest to the times of the apostles, that
the world at present possesses.Brito. Monarchia
Lusitana, p. 2. L. 7. C. 4..
This legend cannot have been invented before
Emanuel's reign, for Duarte Galvam says nothing of
it in his Chronicle of Affonso Henriquez, though he
relates the exploits and death of D. Fuas Roupinho.
I believe there is no earlier authority for it than Ber-
nardo de Brito himself. It is one of many articles of
the same kind from the great manufactory at Alco-
baça, and is at this day as firmly believed by the peo-.
ple of Portugal, as any article of the Christian faith.
How indeed should they fail to believe it? I have a
print, it is one of the most popular devotional prints
in Portugal, which represents the miracle. The dia-
bolical stag is flying down the precipice, and looking
back with a wicked turn of the head, n hopes of
seeing Dom Fuas follow him ; the horse is rearing up
with his hind feet upon the brink of the precipice;
the knight has dropped his hunting-spear, his cocked
hat is falling behind him, and an exclamation to the
Virgin is coming out of his mouth. The Virgin with
a crown upon her head, and the babe with a crown
upon his, at her breast, appear in the sky amid
clouds of glory. N. S. de Nazaré, is written above
this precious print, and this more precious informa-
tion below it,-0 Emo. Snr. Cardeal Patriarcha con-
cede 50 dias de Indulga. a qm. rezar huma have ma.
diante desta Image. His Eminency the Cardinal Pa-
triarch grants fifty days indulgence to whomsoever
shall say an Ave-Maria before this Image. The print
is included, and plenty of Ave-Marias are said before
it in full faith, for this nossa senhora is in highvogue.
L
 242
Before the French invasion, this famous Image used
annually to be escorted by the court to Cape Espi-
chel. In 1796 I happened to be upon the Tagus atthe
time ofher embarkation at Belem. She was carried
in a sort of sedan-chair, of which the fashion resem
bled that of the Lord Mayor's coach; a processional
gun-boat preceded the Image and the Court, and I
was literally caught in a shower of rockets; if any of
which had fallen upon the heretical heads ofme and
my companion, it would not improbably have been
considered as a new miracle wrought by the wonder-
working Senhora.
InJuly 1808,the French, under General Thomieres,
robbed the church of this Lady of Nazareth; their
booty injewels and plate, was estimated at more than
200,000 cruzados. Jose Accursio das Neves, the Por
tugueze historian of those disastrous times, expresses
his surprise that no means should have been takenby
those who had the care of these treasures, for secur
ing them in time. Care, however, seems to havebeen
taken of the Great Diana ofthe Temple, for though
it is stated that they destroyed or injured several
images, no mention is made of any insult or damage
having been offered to this. They sacked the town
and set fire to it, but it escaped with the loss of only
thirteen or fourteen houses; the suburbor village, on
thebeach, was less fortunate: there only fourhousesof
more than 300 remain unconsumed, and all the boats
and nets were destroyed.-Historia da Invasam &c.
T. 4. p. 85.
Spreading his hands, and lifting up hisface, &c.
I. p. 7.
The vision of Don Roderick supplies a singular con-
trast to the picture which is represented in this pas
sage. I have great pleasure in quoting the stanzas;
if the contrast had been intentional, it could not
have been more complete.
 243
But, far within, Toledo's Prelate lent
An ear offearful wonder to the King;
The silver lamp a fitful lustre sent,
So long that sad confession witnessing:
For Roderick told of many a hidden thing,
Such as are lothly utter'd to the air,
When Fear, Remorse, and Shame, the bosom
wring,
And guilt his secret burthen cannot bear,
And Conscience seeks in speech a respite from
Despair.
Full on the Prelate's face, and silver hair,
The stream of failing light was feebly roll'd;
But Roderick's visage, though his head was bare,
Was shadow'd by his hand and mantle's fold.
While of his hidden soul the sins he told,
Proud Alaric's descendant could not brook,
That mortal man his bearing should behold,
Or boast that he had seen, when conscience
shook,
Fear tamea monarch's brow, remorse a warrior's
look.
This part of the story is thus nakedly stated by
Dr. Andre da Sylva Mascarenhas, in a long narrative
poem, with this title, A destruiçam de Espanha,
Restauraçam Summaria da mesma.
Achouse opobre Rey em Cauliniana
Mosteirojunto ao rio Guadiana.
Eram osfradesfugidos do Mosteiro
Com recess dos Barbaros malvados,
De brucos esteve el Rey hum dia inteiro
Na Igreja, chorando seus peccados;
Hum Monge veo alli por derradeiro
A conhecer quem era, ouvindo os brades
Que o disfarçado Rey aos ares dava,
Este Monge Romano se chamava.
 244
Perguntoulhe quem era, e donde vinha,
Por ver nopobre traje gram portento,
El Rey lhe respondeo como convinha
Sem declarar seu posto, ou seu intento;
Pediulhe confissam, e o Monge asinha
Lha concedeo e o Santo Sacramento,
Eraforça que el Rey na confissam
Lhe declarasse o posto e a tencam.
Como entendeo o bom Religioso
Que aquelle era seu Rey que por estranhas
Terras andava roto e lacrimoso,
Mil ays tirou das intimas entranhas:
Lançouselhe aos pes, e com piedoso
Affecto o induziu e varias manhas,
0 quizesse tambem levar consigo
b✪
Por socio no desterro e no perigo.- P. 278.
10 Thefourth week oftheirfearfulpilgrimage.-I. p. B.
Dias vinte e sete napassagem
Gastaram, desviandosse do humano
Trato, e maos encontros que este mundo
Tras sempre a quem busca o bem profundo.
Destruiçam de Espanha.
Some new austerity unheard ofyet
In Syrianfields ofglory, or the sands
Ofholiest Egypt.-II. p. 14.
Egypt has been, from the earliest ages, the theatre
ofthe most abject and absurd superstitions, and very
little benefit was produced by a conversion which ex-
changed crocodiles and monkies for monks and moun-
tebanks. The first monastery is said to have been es-
tablished in that country by St. Anthony the Great,
towards the close of the third century. He who rests
in solitude, said the saint,issaved from three conflicts,
-from the war ofhearing, and ofspeech, and ofsight;
and he has only to maintain the struggle against his
own heart. (Acta Sanctorum, T. ii. p. 143.) Indolence
was not the only virtue which he and his disciples in-
oth butread early "Hybalian
the monks are not an unwinded
 245
troduced into the catalogue of Christian perfections.
S. Eufraxia entered a convent consisting ofan hun-
dred and thirty nuns, not one ofwhom had ever wash.
ed her feet; the very mention of the bath was an abo-
mination to them- (Acta Sanctorum, March 13.) St.
Macarius had renounced most of the decencies of {\
life; but he returned one day to his convent, hum-
bled and mortified, exclaiming,-I amnot yet a monk,
but I have seen monks! for he had met two of these
wretches stark naked.- Acta Sanctorum, i. p. 107.
The principles which these madmen established
were, that every indulgence is sinful; that whatever
is gratifying to the body, must be injurious to the
soul; that in proportion as man inflicts torments upon
himself, he pleases his Creator; that the ties of natu
ral affection wean the heartfrom God; and that every
social duty must be abandoned by him who would be
perfect. The doctrine of two principles has never
produced such practical evils in any system as in the
catholic. Manes, indeed, attributes all evil to the
equal power ofthe evil principle, (that power being
only for a time) but some of the corrupted forms of
Christianity actually exclude a good one!
There is a curious passagein the Bibliotheca Ori
entalis of Assemanus, in which the desarts are sup
posed to have been originally intended for the use of
these saints, compensating for their sterility by the
abundant crop ofvirtues which they were to produce!
In illa vero soli vastitate, quæ procul a Nili ripis qua-
quaversus latissime protenditur, non urbes, non domi-
cilia, non agri, non arbores, sed desertum, arena,feræ;~
Non tamen hanc terræpartem(ut Eucherii verbis utar)
inutilem, et inhonoratam dimisit Deus, quum in pri-
mordiis rerum omnia in sapientiâ faceret, et singula
quæquefuturis usibus apta distingueret; sed cuncta non
magis præsentis magnificenti , quam futuri præscien
tia creans, venturis, ut arbitror, Sanctis Eremum pa-
ravit. Credo, his illam locupletem fructibus voluit, et
pro indulgentioris naturæ vice, hanc Sanctorum dare
fecundiam, ut siepinguescerentfinesdeserti: Et quum

Meander
 246
irrigaret de superioribus suis montes, abundaret quo-
que multiplicata fruge convaless locorumque damna
supplicet,quum habitationem sterilem habitatore ditaret.
"Ifthe ways of religion," says South, " are ways
of pleasantness, such as are not ways of pleasantness,
are not truly and properly ways of religion. Upon
which ground it is easy to see what judgment is to
be passed upon all those affected, uncommanded, ab
surd austerities, so much prized and exercised by
some ofthe Romish profession. Pilgrimages, going
barefoot, hair-shirts and whips , with other such gos-
pel-artillery, are their only helps to devotion: things
never enjoined, either by the prophets under the
Jewish, or by the apostles under the Christian econo-
my, who yet surely understood the proper and the
most efficacious instruments of piety, as well as any
confessor or friar ofall the order ofSt. Francis, orany
casuist whatsoever.
"It seems that with them a man sometimes cannot
be a penitent unless he also turns vagabond, and foots
it to Jerusalem, or wanders over this or that part of
the world, to visit the shrines of such or such a pre-
tended saint, though perhaps in his life ten times
more ridiculous than themselves. Thus, that which
was Cain's error, is become their religion. He that
thinks to expiate a sin by going barefoot, only makes
one folly the atonement for another. Paul, indeed,
was scourged and beaten by the Jews, but we never
read that he beat or scourged himself; and if they
think that his keeping under of his body imports so
much, they must first prove that the body cannot be
kept under by a virtuous mind, and that the mind
cannot be made virtuous but by a scourge, and conse
quently that thongs and whip-cord are means ofgrace,
and things necessary to salvation. The truth is, if
men's religion lies no deeper than their skin, it is pos
sible that they may scourge themselves into very great
improvements.
" But they will find that bodily exercise touches not
the soul, and that neither pride, nor lust, nor covet-
 247
ousness, was ever mortified by corporal discipline; 'tis
not the back, but the heart that must bleed for sin;
and, consequently, that in their whole course they
are like men out of their way; let them lash on never
so fast, they are not at all nearer to their journey's
end; and howsoever they deceive themselves and
others, they may as well expect to bring a cart as a
soul to heaven by such means." -Sermons, vol. i.
¿P. 34.
In those weeds,
Which neverfrom the hour when to thegrave
Shefollowed her dear Lord Theodofred,
Russilla laid aside.-II. p. 14.
Vide nuper ipse in Hispaniis constitutus, et admira-
tus sum antiquum hunc morem, ab Hispanis adhuc
omnibus observari; mortufi quippe uxore maritus, mor-
tuo maritoconjux, mortuis filiis patres, mortuis patri-
bus filii, defunctis quibuslibet cognatis cognati, extinc
tis quolibet casu amicis amici, statim arma deponunt,
servicas vestes, peregrinarum pellium tegmina abji-
ciunt, totumque penitus multi colorem, ac pretiosum ha-
bitum, abdicantes, nigris tantum vilibusque indumentis
se contegunt. Sic crinibus propriis sic jumentorum
suorum caudis decurtatis, seque et ipsa atro prorsus
colore denigrant. Talibus luctui dolorisve insignibus,
subtractos charissimos deflent, et integri adminus spa
tium anni, in tali mærore publica lege consumant.—
Petri Venerabilis Epist. quoted in Yepes, T. vii.
ff. 21.
13 Her eyeless husband.-II. p. 15.
Witiza put out the eyes of Theodofred, inhabilitan
dolepara la monarchia, says Ferreras. This was the
common mode of incapacitating a rival for the
throne.
Un Conde de Gallicia que fuera valiado,
Pelayo avie nombre, omefa desforzado,
Lady Malcol
telesa sad stor redhe talk with
on of athen that g
 248
Perdio la vision, andaba embargado,
Ca ome que non vede, debie seer nado.
Gonzalo de Berceo. S. Dom. 338.
The history of Europe during the dark ages
abounds with examples of exoculation, as it was called
by those writers who endeavoured, towards the mid-
dle of the 17th century, to introduce the style-ornate
into our prose after it had been banished from poetry.
In the East, the practice is still continued. When Al-
boquerque took possession of Ormuz, he sent to Por-
tugal fifteen of its former kings, whom he found
there, each of whom, in his turn, had been deposed
and blinded!
In the semi-barbarous stage of society, any kind of
personal blemish seems to have been considered as
disqualifying a prince from the succession, like the
law of the Nazarenes. Yorwerth, the son of Owen
Gwynedb, was set aside in Wales because of his bro-
ken nose; Count Oliba, in Barcelona, because he
could never speak till he had stamped with his foot
three times like a goat. Aquest Oliba frare del Conte
en Grifa no era a dret de sos membres. Car lo dit Oliba
james no podia parlar, siprimer no donas colps ab lo
peu en terra quart o sinc vegades, axi comsifos cabra;
eper aquesta raho lifou imposat lo nom, dient li Olibra
Cabreta, eper aquest accident lo dit Oliba perde la suc-
cessio delfrare en lo Comtat de Barcelona, e fou donat
lo dit Comtat a en Borrell, Comte de Urgell, qui era son
tosingerma.- Pere Tomich, c. cxviii. ff. 20.
In the treaty between our Henry V. and Charles
VI. of France, by which Henry was appointed King
of France after Charles's decease, it was decreed
that the French should " swear to become liege men
and vassals to our said son King Henry, and obey
him as the true king of France, and without any op-
position or dispute shall receive him as such, and
never pay obedience to any other as king or regent
of France, but to our said son King Henry, unless
our said son should lose life or limb, or be attacked by
 249
a mortal disease, or suffer diminution in person, state,
honour,* or goods."
Lope de Vega alludes to the blindness of Theodo-
fred in his Jerusalem Conquistada:-
Criavase con ostras bellas damas
Florinda bella,
Esta miro Rodrigo desdichado,
Ay si como supadre fuera ciego!
Saco sus ojos Witisa ayrado,
Fuera mejor los de Rodrigo luego;
Gozara Espana el timbre coronado
Desus castillos en mayor sossiego
Que le dio Leovigildo, y no se viera
Estampa de Africano en su ribera.
L. vi. ff. 131.
A remarkable instance of the inconvenient man-
ner in which the band the v are indiscriminately C
used bythe Spaniards, occurs here in the original edi
tion. The w not being used in that language, it would
naturally be represented byvv; and here, the printer,
using most unluckily his typographical license, has
made the word Vbitisa.
"The Spaniards, says that late worthy Jo. San
ford, some time fellow of Magdalane College, in Ox-
ford, (in his Spanish Grammar, 1633) do with a kind
of wantonness so confound the sound of b with v,
that itis hard to determine when and in what words
it should retain its own power of a labial letter,
which gave just cause of laughter at that Spaniard
who, being in conversation with a French lady, and
minding to commend her children for fair, said unto
her, using the Spanish liberty in pronouncing the
French, Madame, vous avez des veaux enfans, tell-
ing her that she had calves to her children, instead
ofsaying, beaux enfans, fair children. Neither can I
well justify him who wrote veneficio for beneficio.”
* Johnes's Monstrellet, vol. v.p. 190.
L2
Sarch 20€ influäule mk onSpanish
I gether Romanse languages.-
 250
Conimbrica, whose ruin'dtowers
14 Bear record ofthe fierce Alani's wrath.-III. 19.
The Roman Conimbrica stood about two leagues
from the present Coimbra, on the site Condeyxa
Velha. Ataces, king of the Alanes, won it from the
Sueves, and, in revenge for its obstinate resistance,
dispeopled it, making all its inhabitants, without dis-
tinction ofpersons, work at the foundation of Coim-
bra, where it now stands. Hermenerico, the king of
the Sueves, attacked him while thus employed, but was
defeated and pursued to the Douro; peace was then
made, and Cindasunda, daughter of the conquered,
given in marriage to the conqueror. In memory of
the pacification thus effected, Ataces bore upon his
banners a damsel in a tower, with a dragon vert on
one side, and a lion rouge on the other, the bearings
of himself and his marriage-father; and this device
being sculptured upon the towers of Coimbra, still re-
mains as the city arms. Two letters of Arisbert,
bishop of Porto, to Samerius, archdeacon of Braga,
which are preserved at Alcobaça, relate these events
as the news of the day, that is, if the authority of
Alcobaçan records, and of Bernardo de Brito can be
admited.-Mon. Lus. 26. 3.
Ataces was an Arian, and therefore made the
Catholic bishops and priests workat his new city, but
his queen converted him.
Mumadona.-III. p. 20.
Gasper Estaço has shown that this is the name of
the foundress of Guimaraens, and that it is not. as
some writers had supposed, erroneously thus written,
because the words Muma and Dona followed each
other in the deeds ofgift wherein it is preserved; the
name being frequently found with its title affixed
thus, Dma Mumadna.
 251
-the banks
OfLima, through whose groves in after years
Mournful, yet sweet, Diogo's amorous lute
Prolonged its tuneful echoes.- III. p. 22.
Diogo Bernardes, one of the best of the Portugueze
poets, was born on the banks of the Lima, and pas-
sionately fond of its scenery. Some of his sonnets will
bear comparison with the best poems of their kind.
There is a charge of plagiarism against him for hav-
ing printed several of Camoens's sonnets as his own;
to obtain any proofs upon this subject would be very
difficult; this, however, is certain, that his own undis-
puted productions resemble them so closely in unaf
fected tenderness, and in sweetness of diction , that
the whole appear like the works ofone author.
Auria itselfis now but one wide tomb
For all its habitants. - III. p. 23.
The present Orense. The Moors entirely destroyed
it; depopulavit usque ad solum, are the words of one
of the old brief chronicles. In 832, Alonso el Casto
found it too completely ruined to be restored.-
Espana Sagrada, xvii. p. 48.
That consecratedpile amid the wild
Which sainted Fructuoso in his zeal
Reared to St. Felix, on Visonia's banks.-IV. 31.
Ofthis saint, and the curious institutions which he
formed, and the beautiful track of country in which
they were placed, I have given an account in the
third edition of Letters from Spain and Portugal,
vol. i. p. 103.
Sacaru ...... indignantly
Did he toward the ocean bend his way,
And shakingfrom his feet the dust ofSpain,
Took ship and hoisted sail, throughseas unknown,
To seekforfreedom.-IV. p. 35.
This tale, which is repeated by Bleda, rests on no
better authority than that of* Abulcacim, which may,
* C. 13.
 252
however, be admitted, so far as to show that it was a
prevalent opinion in bis time.
Antonio Galvam, in his Tratado dos Descobrementos
Antigos e Modernos, relates a current, and manifestly
fabulous story, which has been supposed to refer to
Sacaru and the companions of his emigration. They
say, he says, that at this time, A.D. 1447, a Portugueze
ship sailing out ofthe Straits of Gibraltar, was carri
ed by a storm much farther to the west than she had
intended, and came to an island where there were
seven cities, and where our language was spoken; and
the people asked whether the Moors still occupied
Spain, from whence they had fled afterthe loss of King
Don Rodrigo. The contramaster ofthe ship said, that
he brought away a little sand from the island, and
sold it to a goldsmith in Lisbon, who extracted from
it a good quantity ofgold. It is said that the Infante
D. Pedro, who governed at that time, ordered these
things to be written in the Casa do Tombo. And
some will have it that these lands and islands at which
the Portugueze touched, where those which are now
called the Antilhas and New Spain. (p. 24.)
This Antilia, or Island of the Seven Cities, is laid
down in Martin Behaim's map; the story was soon
improved by giving seven bishops to the seven cities;
and Galvam has been accused by Hornius of having
invented it to give his countrymen the honour of
having discovered the West Indies! Nowit is evident
that Antonio Galvam relates the story as if he did
not believe it,-contam-they relate, and, diz, it is
said, never affirming the fact, nor making any infer
ence from it, but merely stating it as a report; and it
is certain, which perhaps Hornius did not know, that
there never lived a man of purer integrity than
Antonio Galvam; a man whose history is disgraceful,
not to his country, but to the government under
which he lived, and whose uniform and unsullied
virtue entitles him to rank among the best men that
have ever done honour to human nature.
The writers who repeat this story of the Seven
 253
Islands and their bishops, have also been pleased to
find traces of Sacaru in the new world, for which the
imaginary resemblances to Christianity which were
found in Yucatan and other places, serve them as
proofs.-Gregorio Garcia. Origen de los Indios, 1. iv.c.20.
The work of Abulcacim, in which the story first
appears, has been roundly asserted to be the forgery
ofthe translator, Miguel de Luna.
The Portugueze academician, Contador de Argote,
speaking of this romantic history, acquits him ofthe
fraud which has with little reflection been laid to his
charge. Pedraça, he says, in his Grandezas de Grana-
da, and Rodrigo Caro, in the Grandezas de Sevilla,
both affirm that the original Arabic exists in the
Escurial, and Escolano asserts the same, although
Nicolas Antonio says that the catalogues ofthat library
do not make mention of any such book. If Luna had
forged it, it would not have had many of those blun-
ders which are observed in it; nor is there any reason
for imputing such a fraud to Luna, a man will skill-
ed in Arabic, and ofgood reputation. What I suspect
is, that the book was composed bya Granadan Moor,
and the reason which induces me to formthis opinion
is, the minuteness with which he describes the con-
quest which Tarif made of those parts of the king-
dom of Granada, of the Alpuxarras and the Serra Ne-
vada, pointing out the etymologies of the names of
places, and other circumstances, which any one who
reads with attention will observe. As to the time in
which the composer of this amusing romance flou
• rished, it was certainly after the reign of Bedeci
Aben Habuz, who governed, and was Lord of Grana-
da, about the year 1013, as Marmol relates, after the
Arabian writers; and the reason which I have for this
assertion is, that in the romance of Abulcacim the
story is told which gave occasion to the said Bedeci
Aben Habuz to set up in Granada that famous vane,
which represents a knight upon horseback in bronze,'
with a spear in the right hand, and a club in the left,
and these wordsin Arabic,-Bedeci Aben Habuz says
 254
that in this manner Andalusia must be kept! the fi
gure moves with every wind, and veers about from one
end to another.- Memorias de Braga, T. iii. p. 120.
In the fabulous Chronicle of D. Rodrigo, Sacarus,
as he is there called, is a conspicuous personage; but
the tale of his emigration was not then current, and
the author kills him before the Moors appear upon
the stage. He seems to have designed him as a repre-
sentation ofperfect generosity.

20 All too long,

Here in their own inheritance, the sons
OfSpain havegroaned beneath a foreign yoke.
IV. p. 36.
There had been a law to prohibit intermarriages
between the Goths and Romans; this law Recesuin-
tho annulled,* observing in his edict, that the people
ought in no slight degree to rejoice at the repeal. It
is curious that the distinction should have existed so
long; but it is found also in a law of Wamba's, and
doubtless must have continued till both names were
lost together in the general wreck. The vile princi-
ple was laid down in the laws of the Wisigoths, that
such as the root is, such ought the branch to be,-
gran confusion es de linage, quando el fiyo non semeya
al padre, que aquelo ques de la raiz, deba ser en a cima,
and upon this prineiple a law was made to keep the
children of slaves, slaves also.
"Many men well versed in history," says Contador
de Argote, (Memorias de Braga, 3. 273.) " think, and
think rightly, that this was a civil war, and that the
monarchy was divided into two factions, of which the
least powerful availed itself of the Arabs as auxilia-
ries; and that these auxiliaries made themselves mas-
ters, and easily effected their intent by means of the
divisions of the country."
" The natives of Spain," says Joam de Barros,
"never bore much love to the Goths, who were
* Fuero Juzgo, L. 3. tit. 1. leg. 1.
 255
strangers and comelings, and when they came had
no right there, for the whole belonged to the Roman
empire. It is believed that the greater part of those
whom the Moors slew were Goths, and it is said that,
on the one side and on the other, in the course oftwo
years there were slain by the sword seven hundred
thousand men. The Christians who escaped chose that
the name of Goths should be lost; and though some
Castillians complain that the race should be extin-
guished, saying with Don Jorge Manrique,
Pues la sangre de los Godos
y ellinage y la nobleza
tan crecida,
por quantas vias y modos
se sume su grande alteza
en esta vida.
I must say that I see no good foundation for this; for
they were a proud nation and barbarous, and were a
long time heretics ofthe sects ofArius and Eutychius
and Pelagius, and can be praised as nothing except
as warriors, who were so greedy for dominion, that
wherever they reached they laid every thing bare
like locusts, and therefore the emperor ceded to them
this country. The people who dwelt in it before were
a better race, always praised and feared and respect-
ed by the Romans, loyal and faithful and true and
reasonable; and if the Goths afterwards were worthy
of any estimation they became so here; for as plants
lose their bitterness and improve by being planted
and translated into a good soil (as is said of peaches,)
so does a good land change its inhabitants, and of
rustic and barbarous make them polished and virtu
ous.
" The Moors did not say that they came against
the Christians, but against the Goths, who had usurp-
ed Spain; and it appears that to the people of the
land it mattered little whether they were under
Goths or Moors; or indeed it might not be too much
 256
to say that they preferred the Moors, not only be
cause all new things and changes would be pleasing,
but because they were exasperated against the Goths
for what they had done against the Christians, (i. e.
the Catholics,) and for the bad government of King
Witiza."
" You are not to think," says the chronicler, " that
Count Don Julian and the Bishop Don Orpas came
ofthe lineage of the Goths, but ofthe lineage ofthe
Cæsars, and therefore they were not grieved that the
good lineage should be destroyed.-Chr. del K. D. Ro-
drigo, P. i. c. 248.
21 Favila.-V. p. 40.
Barrios, taking a punster's license in orthography,
plays upon the name of Pelayo's father:-
del gran Favila (que centella
significa) Pelayo, marcial llama,
restauro el Leones reyno, con aquella
luz que alcanço la victoriosa rama.
Coro de las Musas, p. 102.
22 The Queen too, Egilona,―
Was she not married to the enemy,
The Moor, the Misbeliever? V. p. 41.
For this fact there is the unquestionable testimony
of Isidorus Pacensis. Per idem tempus in Era 753,
anno imperii ejus 9. Arabum 97. Abdallaziz omnem
Hispaniam per tres annos sub censuario jugo pacifi
cans, cum Hispali divitiis et honorum fascibus cum Re-
gina Hispani in conjugio copulata, filias Regum ac
Principum pellicatas, et imprudenter distractas œstua-
ret, seditione suorum facta, orationi instans, consilio
Ajub, occiditur; atque eo Hispaniam retinente, mense
impleto, Alahor in regno Hesperia per principaliajussa
succedit, cui de morte Abdallaziz ita edicitur, ut quasi
consilio Egilonis Regiæ conjugis quondam Ruderici re-
gis, quam sibi sociaberat, jugum Arabicum a sua cer-
 257
vice conaretur avertere, et regnum invasum Hiberiæ
sibimetretemptare.-Espana Sagrada, T. 8. p. 302. f
Florez relates the story in the words of the old
translation of an Arabic original imputed to Rasis.
" When Belazin, the son of Muza, remained for Lord
of Spain, and had ordered his affairs right well, they
told him tidings of Ulaca, who had been the wife of
King D. Rodrigo, that she was a right worthy dame,
and right beautiful, and of a great lineage, and that
she was a native of Africa; whereupon he sent for
her, and ordered that beasts should be given her, and
much property, and men-servants and maid-servants,
and allthings thatshe could require. till she could come
to him. And they brought her unto him, and when
he saw her, he was well pleased with her, and said,
Ulaca, tell me ofthy affairs, and conceal nothing from
me; for thou knowest that I may do with thee accord-
ing to my will, being my captive. And when she
heard this, it increased the grief which she had in her
heart, and her sorrow was such, that she had well nigh
fallen dead to the ground, and she replied weeping
and said, Baron, what wouldst thou know more ofmy
affairs? For doth not all the world know, that I, a
young damsel, being married with King D. Rodrigo,
was with him Lady of Spain, and dwelt in honour and
in all pleasure, more than I deserved; and therefore
it was God's will that they should endure no longer.
And now I am in dishonour greater than ever was
dame of such high state: For I am plundered, and
have not a single palm of inheritance; and I am a
captive, and brought into bondage. I also have been
mistress of all the land that I behold. Therefore, sir,
have pity upon my misfortunes; and in respect of the
great lineage which you know to be mine, suffer not
that wrong or violence be offered me by any one;
and, sir, if it be your grace you will sell me. There
are men I know who would take compassion on me,
and give you for me a great sum. And Belazin said
to her, be certain that so long as I live, you shall ne-
ver go from my house. And Ulaca said, what then,
 258
sir, would you do with me? and Belazin said, I will
that you should remain in my house, and there you
shall be free from all wretchedness, with my other
wives. And she said, in an evil day was I born, if it
is to be true that I have been wife of the honoured
King of Spain, and now have to live in a stranger's
house as the concubine and captive of another! And
I swear unto God, whose pleasure it is to dismay me
thus, that I will rather seek my own death as soon as
I can; for I will endure no more misery, seeing that
by death I can escape it. And when Belazin saw that
she thus lamented, he said to her, good dame, think
not that we have concubines, but by our law we may
have seven wives, if we can maintain them, and
therefore you shall be my wife, like each of the
others; and all things which your law requires that a
man should do for his wife, will I do for you; and
therefore you have no cause to lament; and be sure
that I will do you much honour, and will make all
who love me serve and honour you, and you shall be
the mistress ofall my wives. To this she made answer
and said, Sir, offer me no violence concerning mylaw,
but let me live as a Christian: And to this Belazin
was nothing loth; and he granted it, and his marriage
was performed with her according to the law of the
Moors; and every day he liked her more, and did her
such honour that greater could not be. And it befell
that Belazin being one day with Ulaca, she said to
him, Sir, do not think it ill if I tell you of a thing in
which you do not act as if you knew the custom. And
he said, wherein is it that I err? Sir, said she, because
you have no crown, for no one was ever confirmed
in Spain, except he had a crown upon his head. He
said, this which you say is nothing, for we have it not
ofour lineage, neither is it our custom to wearsa
crown. She said, many good reasons are there why a
crown is ofuse, and it would injure you nothing, but
be well for you, and when you should wear your
crown upon your head, God would know you and
others also by it: And she said, you would look full
trine of Lord's anviutadasur
was in pustiques to 7
 259
comely with it, and it would be great nobleness to
you, and be right fitting, and you should wear in it
certain stones, which will be good for you, and avail
you. And a short time afterwards Belazin went to
dwell at Seville, and he carried Ulaca with him, and
she took of her gold, and of her pearls, and of her
precious stones, which she had many and good, and
made him the noblest crown that ever was seen by
man, and gave it him, and bade him take it, and place
it where it should be well kept; and Ulaca, as she
was a woman of understanding and prudence, order-
ed her affairs as well as Belazin, so that he loved her
much, and did great honour to her, and did many of
those things which she desired; so that he was well
pleased with the Christians, and did them much good,
and showed favour unto them."-Memorias de las
Reynas Catholicas, 1. p. 28. od
The issue ofthis was fatal to Abdalaziz. In Abul-
cacim's history, it is said that he was converted by
this Christian wife, and for that reason put to death
by his father. Others have supposed that by means of
her influence he was endeavouring to make himself
King of Spain, independent ofthe Caliph. A charac-
teristic circumstance is added. Egilona was very de-
sirous to convert her husband, and that she might at
least obtain from him some mark of outward respect
for her images, made the door of the apartment in
which she kept them, so low, that he could not enter
without bowing.-Bleda, p. 214.
Deixam a Abdalaziz, que de bellona
Mamara o leite, por Rector da Hesperia;
Este caza co a inclyta Egilona,
Mulher de Dom Rodrigo, (o gram miseria!)
Tomou Coroa de ouro, e a Matrona
Lhe deu para a tomar larga materia,
Foi notado à misera raynha
Cazarse com hum Mouro tam asinha.
de Destruicam de Espanha, p. 237,
 260
The Character of this Queen is beautifully conceiv-
ed by the author of Count Julian:- dk larran
Beaming with virtue inaccessible
Stood Egilona; for her lord she lived, 3
And for the heavens that raised her sphere so high;
All thoughts were on her-all beside her own.*
Negligent as the blossoms of the field,
Arrayed in candour and simplicity,
Before her path she heard the streams of joy
Murmur her name in all their cadences, maar van
Saw them in every scene, in light, in shade, a pri
Reflect her image; but acknowledged theme
Hers most complete when flowing from her most.
All things in want of her, herselfofnone,
Pomp and dominion lay beneath her feet
Unfelt and unregarded: now behold
The earthly passions war against the heavenly!
Pride against love; ambition and revenge
Against devotion and compliancy-
Her glorious beams adversity hath blunted,
And coming nearer to our quiet view,
The original clay of coarse mortalityFlores
Hardens and flaws around her.
23 One day ofbitter and severe delight.- VI. p. 49.
I have ventured to borrow this expression from the
tragedy of Count Julian. Nothing can be finer than
the passage in which it occurs.
Abdalazis. Thou lovest still thy country.
Julian. Abdalazis,
All men with human feelings love their country.
Not the high-born or wealthy man alone,
Who looks upon his children, each one leds
By its gay handmaid, from the high alcove,
And hears them once a-day; not only he
Who hath forgotten, when his guest enquires
The name ofsome far village all his own;
Whose rivers bound the province, and whose hills
 $261
Touch the last cloud upon the level sky:
No; better men still better love their country,
'Tis the old mansion of their earliest friends,
The chapel of their first and best devotions; d
When violence, or perfidy, invades,
Or when unworthy lords hold wassail there,
And wiser heads are drooping round its moats,
At last they fix their steady and stiff eye
There, there alone-stand while the trumpet blows,
And view the hostile flames above its towers
Spire, with a bitter and severe delight.
Restoringin thy native line, O Prince, 24
The sceptre to the Spaniard.- VII. p. 57.
This was a favourite opinion of Garibays , himselfa
Biscayan, but he has little better proof for it than the
fact, that Gothic names disappeared with Roderick,
and that Pelayo and his successors drew their nomen-
clature from a different stock. He says, indeed, that
ancient writings are not wanting to support his opi-
nion. Some rude commentator has written against
this assertion in the margin of my copy, miente Gari-
bay; and I am afraid the commentator is the truer
man of the two.
There is a fabulous tale of Pelayo's birth, which,
like many other tales of no better authority, has le-
gends and relics to support it. The story, according
to Dr. D. Christoval Lozano, in his history of Los
Reys Nuevos de Toledo, is this. Luz, n ece to Egilo-
na, and sister of Roderick, dwelt at Toledo, in the
palace of King Egica. Duke Favila, her father's bro-
ther, fell in love with her, and came from his resi-
dence in Cantabria to ask her in marriage, expecting
to find no other obstacle than the dispensable one of
consanguinity. But it so happened, that the king was
wooing Luz to become his concubine; her refusal
made him jealous, as he could not conceive that it
proceeded from any other cause except love for ano-
ther, and as his temper was not to be provoked with-
out danger, Favila dared not openly make his suit.
 262
He and his mistress therefore met in private, and
plighted their vows before an image of the Virgin.
Theconsequences soon become apparent, the more
so, because, as Dr. Lozano assures us, there were at
that time no fashions to conceal such things,-Y mas
que en aquella era no se avian inventado los guarda-
infantes. The king observed the alteration in her
shape, and placed spies upon her, meaning to destroy
the child and punish the mother with the rigour of
the law, death by fire being the punishment for such
an offence. Luz was well aware of the danger. She
trusted her Camarera and one servant: They made
an ark: She herself, as soon as the infant was born,
threw water in his face, and baptized him by the
name of Pelayo: a writing was placed with him in
the ark, requesting that whoever should find it would
breed up the boy with care, for he was of good line-
age: Money enough was added to support him for
eight years, and the ark was then launched upon the
Tagus, where it floated down the stream all night,
all day, and all the following night. On the second
morning it grounded near Alcantara, and was found
by Grafeses, who happened to be Luz's uncle. The
king's suspicion being confirmed by the sudden alte-
ration in the lady's appearance, he used every means
to detect her, but without avail; he even ordered all
children to be examined who had been born in or a-
round Toledo within three months, and full enquiry
to be made into the circumstances oftheir births: To
the astonishment of later historians 35,000 of that age
were found, and not one among them of suspicious
extraction. The tale proceeds in the ordinary form
of romance. The lady is accused of incontinence,
and to be burnt, unless a champion defeats her accu-
ser. Favila of course undertakes her defence, and of
course is victorious. Asecond battle follows with the
same success, and fresh combats would have followed,
if a hermit had not brought the king to repentance.
Grafeses in due time discovers the secret, and re-
stores the child to his parents.stevat
 263
The fabulous chronicle seems to be the oldest writ-
ten source of this story, but some such tradition had
probably long been current. The ark was shown at
Alcantara, in the convent of St. Benito, and à de-
scription of it, with reasons why its authenticity
should be admitted, may be found in Francisco de
Pisa's Description de Toledo, L. iii. c. 1.
Andin thy name 25
Accept the crown ofthorns sheproffers me.-
VII. p. 58.
Godfrey was actually crowned with thorns in Jeru-
salem, a circumstance which has given rise to a cu-
rious question in heraldry, thus curiously stated and
commented by Robert Barrett, in that part of his
Jong poem which relates to this Prince:
A Prince religious, ifever any,
Considering the age wherein he lived,
Vice-hater great, endued with virtues many,
True humilized, void of mundane pride;
For though he now created were great king,
Yet would he not as royal pomp requires,
Encrowned be with crownet glistering
Of gold and gems to mundains vain desires;
But with a pricking, pricking crown ofthorm
Bearing thereto a Christian reverence,
Sith Heaven's-King, man's-Redeemer, did not
scorne ati
To wear such crown within that city's fence,
When as, cross-loden, humblely he went,
All cowring under burden ofthat wood,
Tofree Το pay the pain of man's due punishment,
manfrom And free from Plutos bands Prometheus
Hell. brood.
By reas'n of Godfrey's great humility
Refusing golden-crownets dignity,
Thefool Some blundering in world-witted heraldry,
ishness of Not knowing how t' distinguish vertues
Heralds. trye,
 264
Do question make this Christian king to set
Dad In catalogue of gold-diademed kings; r seba
Regarding glitter ofthe external jet eng
And not true garnish ofth' internal things;
Th' internal virtues, soul's sweet ornaments,
So pleasing to th' Eternal's sacred eyes, depe
In angels chore consorting sweet concents
Ofheavenly harmony 'bove christal skies.
But we, è contra, him not only deem
A Christian king, but perfect Christian king.
A christal fanal, lamping light divine
To after-comer kings, world-empʼrizing.
For he, religious prince, did not despise
The Heaven-sent gift to be anointed king,
But disesteem'd the mundane pompous guize
Tickling the hearts of princes monarching.
Anno Potentates regard this heaven-aspiring Prince,
tacion. Not priding, as up-proves his dignity;
High-throned kings aspect the starred fence
Ofthis true map of true kings royalty:
Not Nembrothizing in cloud-kissing towers,
Not Semiramizing in prides palaces,
Not Neronizing in all sanguine hours, big tru
Not Heliogabalizing in lusts lees; un varu sukkan
But Joshuadizing in his Christian camp,
And Judithizing in his Salems seat,
And Davidizing in his Sions stamp,
And Solomonizing in all sacred heat.

Ne Outwatching for her sake

The starry host, and readyfor the work
Of war before the sun begins his course.- VIII. P. 63.
Garci Fernandez Manrique surprized the Moors
te
so of dun ri ng th night , that he was called Garci
e
Madruga, an appellation of the same import as
Peep-of-day-boy. He founded the convent of St. Sal-
vador de Palacios de Benagel for Benedictine nuns ,
and when he called up his merry men, used to say,
Up, sirs, and fight, for my nuns are up and praying,
 265

Levantaos Senores àpelear, que mis monjas son levan

tadas a rezar.
Pruebas de la Hist. de la Casa de Lara, p. 42.
Hermesind.-X. p. 71. 27
Mariana derives the name of Hermesinda from
the reverence in which Hermenegild was held in
Spain, a prince who has been sainted for having re-
nounced the Homooisian creed, and raised a civil
war against his father in favour of the Homoousian
one. It is not a little curious, when the fate of D.
Carlos is remembered, that his name should have
been inserted in the Kalendar, at the solicitation of
Philip II. From the same source Mariana derives
the names Hermenesinda, Armengol, Ermengand,
Hermegildez, and Hermildez. But here, as Brito has
done with Pelayo, he seems to forget that the name
was current before it was borne by the saint, and the
derivations from it as numerous. Its root may be
found in Herman, whose German name will prevail
over the latinized Arminius.
The glen where Tagus rolls between his rocks.- 25
X. p. 77.
The story of the Enchanted Tower at Toledo is
well known to every English reader. It neither ac
corded with the character of my poem to introduce
the fiction, nor would it have been prudent to have
touched upon it after Walter Scott. The account of
the Archbishop Rodrego, and of Abulcacim, may be
found in his notes. What follows here is translated
from the fabulous chronicle of King Don Rodrego.
"And there came to him the keepers of the house
which was in Toledo, which they called Pleasure
with Pain, the Perfect Guard, the Secret of that
which is to come; and it was called also by another
name, the Honour of God. And these keepers came
before the king, and said unto him, Sire, since God
hath done thee such good, and such favour as that
thou shouldest be king of all Spain, we come to re-
M
 266
quire of thee that thou wouldest go to Toledo, and
put thy lock upon the house which we are appointed
to keep. And the king demanded ofthem what house
was that, and wherefore he should put upon it his
lock. And they said unto him, Sire, we will willing
ly tell thee that thou mayest know. Sire, true it is,
that when Hercules the Strong came into Spain he
made in it many marvellous things in those places
where he understood that they might best remain;
and thus when he was in Toledo he understood well
that that city would be one of the best in Spain; and
saw that the kings who should be Lords of Spain,
wouldhave more pleasure to continue dwelling there-
in than in any other part; and seeing that things
would come after many ways, some contrariwise to
ethers, it pleased himto leave many enchantments
made, to the end that after his death his power and
wisdom might by them be known. And he made in
Toledo a house, after the manner which we shall
now describe, with great mastership, so that we have
not heard tell of any other such: The which is made
afterthis guise. There are four lions ofmetal under
the foundation of this house; and so large are they
that a man sitting upon a great horse on the one
side, and another in like manner upon the other, can-
not see each other, so large are the lions. And the
house is upon them, and it is entirely round, and so
lofty that there is not a man in the world who can
throw a stone to the top: And many have attempted
this,but they never could. And there is not a man of
this age who can tell you by what manner this house
was made, neither whose understanding can reach to
sayin what manner it is worked within . But of that
which we have seen without, we have to tell thees
Certes in the whole house there is no stone bigger
than the hand of a man, and the most of them are of
jasper and marble, so clear and shining that they
seem to be crystal. They are of so many colours
that we do not think there are two stones in it ofthe
same colour; and so cunningly are they joined one
14
 267
with another, that if it were not for the many co
lours, you would not believe but that the whole house
was made of one entire stone. And the stones are
placed in such manner one by another, that seeing
them you may know all the things of the battles
aforepast, and of great feats. And this is not by pic-
tures, but the colour of the stones, and the great art
joining one with the other, make it appear thus. And
sans doubt he who should wish to knowthe truth ofthe
great deeds of arms which have been wrought in the
world, might bymeans of that house know it. See now
in what manner Hercules was wise and fortunate, and
right valiant, and acquainted with the things which
were to come. And when he was Lord of Spain he
made it after this guise, which we have related unto
you. And he commanded that neither King nor Lord
of Spain who might come after him, should seek to
know that which was within; but that every one in-
stead should put a lock upon the doors thereof, even
as he himself did, for he first put on a lock, and fasten-
ed it with his key. And after him there has been no
King nor Lord in Spain, who has thought it good to go
from his bidding; but every one as he came put on
each his lock, according to that which Hercules ap-
pointed. And now that we have told thee the manner
ofthe house, and that which we know concerning it,
we require ofthee that thou shouldest go thither, and
put onthy lock upon the gates thereof, even as all the
kings have done who have reigned in Spain until
this time. And the King Don Rodrigo hearing the
marvellous things of this house, and desiring to know
what there was within, and moreover being a man of
a great heart, wished to know of all things how they
were and for what guise. He made answer, that no
such lock would he put upon that house, and that by
all means he would know what there was within.
And they said unto him, Sire, you will not do that
which has never been done in Spain; be pleased
therefore to observe that which the other kings have
observed. And the king said unto them, Leave off
 268
now, and I will appoint the soonest that may be how
I may go to see this house, and then I will do that
which shall seem good. And he would give them no
other reply. And when they saw that he would give
them no other reply, they dared not persist farther,
and they dispeeded themselves ofhim, and went their
way.
" Now it came to pass that the King Don Rodrigo
called to mind how he had been required to put a
lock upon the doors ofthe house which was in Tole-
do, andhe resolved to carry into effect that unto which
his heart inclined him. And one day he gathered to-
gether all the greatest knights of Spain, who were
there with him, and went to see this house, and he
saw that it was more marvellous than those who were
its keepers had told him, and as he was thus behold-
ing it, he said, Friends, I will by all means see what
there is in this house which Hercules made. And
when the great Lords who were with him heard this,
they began to say unto him that he ought not to do
this; for there was no reason why he should do that
which never king nor Cæsar, that had been Lord of
Spain since Hercules, had done until that time. And
the king said unto them, Friends, in this house there
is nothing but what may be seen. I am well sure that
the enchantments cannot hinder me, and this being,
So, I have nothing to fear. And the knights said, Do.
that, sir, which you think good, but this is not done
by our counsel. And when he saw that they were all
of a different accord from that which he wished to
do, he said, Now gainsay me as you will, for let what
will happen I shall not forbear to do my pleasure.
And forthwith he went to the doors, and ordered all
the locks to be opened; and this was a great labour,
for so many were the keys and the locks, that if they
had not seen it, it would have been a great thing to
believe. And after they were unlocked the king
pushed the door with his hand, and he went in, and
the chief persons who were there with him, as many
as he pleased, and they found a hall made in a square,
 da
la
bi est
nd
ggs
269

Alise
being as wide on one part as on the other, and in it

las
there was a bed richly furnished, and there was laid
in that bed the statue of a man, exceeding great,
and armed at all points, and he had the one arm
stretched out, and a writing in his hand. And when
the king and those who were with him saw this bed,
and the man who was laid in it, they marvelled what
it might be, and they said, Certes that bed was one of
the wonders of Hercules and of his enchantments.
And when they saw the writing which he held in his
hand, they showed it to the king, and the king went
to him, and took it from his hand, and opened it and
read it, and it said thus, Audacious one, thou who shalt
read this writing, mark well what thou art, and
how great evil through thee sh I come to pass, for
even as Spain was peopled and conquered by me, so
by thee shall it be depopulated and lost. And I say
unto thee, that I was Hercules the Strong, he who
conquered the greater part of the world, and all
Spain; and I slew Geryon the Great, who was Lord
thereof; and I alone subdued all these lands of Spain,
and conquered many nations, and brave knights, and
never any one could conquer me, save only Death.
Look well to what thou doest, for from this world
thou wilt carry with thee nothing but the good which
thou hast done.
" And when the king had read the writing he was
troubled, and he wished then that he had not begun
this thing. Howbeit he made semblance asifit touched
him not, and said that no man was powerful enough
@ to know that which is to come, except the true God.
And all the knights who were present were much
fabulis

troubled because ofwhat the writing said; and having

seen this they went to behold another apartment,
which was so marvellous, that no man can relate how
marvellous it was. The colours which were therein
were four. The one part of the apartment was white
as snow; and the other which was over against it, was
more black than pitch; and another part was green
as a fine emerald, and that which was over-against it

70w did
otHeracler my - 70w
bath him The the 7 d
 270
was redder than fresh blood; and the whole apartment
was bright and more lucid than crystal, and it was so
beautiful, and the colour thereofso fine,that it seemed
as ifeach of the sides were made of a single stone,
and all who was there present said that there was not
more than a single stone in each, and that there was
no joining of one stone with another, for every side
of the whole four appeared to be one solid slab; and
they all said, that never in the world had such a work
as this elsewhere been made, and that it must be held
for a remarkable thing, and for one of the wonders
ofthe world. And in all the apartments there was no
beam, nor any work of wood, neither within nor
without; and as the floor thereof was flat, so also was
the ceiling. Above these were windows, and so many,
that they gave a great light, so that all which was
within might be seen as clearly as that which was
without. And when they had seentheapartment how
it was made, they found in it nothing but one pillar,
and that not very large, and round; and ofthe height
ofa man ofmean stature: and there was a door in it
right cunningly made, and upon it was a little writing
in Greek letters, which said, Hercules made this house
in the year ofAdam three hundred and six. And when
the king had read these letters, and understood that
which they said, he opened the door, and when it was
opened they found Hebrew letters which said, This
house is one of the wonders of Hercules; and when
they had read these letters they saw a nich made in
that pillar, in which was a coffer of silver, right subtly
wrought, and after a strange manner, and it was
gilded and covered with many precious stones, and
of great price, and it was fastened with a lock of
mother-of-pearl. And this was made in such a manner
that it was a strange thing, and there were eut upon .
it Greek letters which said, It cannot be, but that the
king in whose time this coffer shall be opened, shall
see wonders before his death; thus said Hercules the
lord of Greece and of Spain who knew some ofthose
things which are to come. And when the king under-
 271
stood this, he said, Within this coffer lies that which
I seek to know, and which Hercules has so strongly
forbidden to be known. And he took the lock and
broke it with his hands, for there was no other who
durst break it; and when the lock was broken, and
the coffer open, they found nothing within, except
a white cloth folded between two pieces of copper;
and he took it and opened it, and found Moors pour
trayed therein with turbans, and banners in their
hands, and with their swords round their necks, and
their bows behind them at the saddle-bow, and over
these figures were letters which said, When this cloth
shall be opened, and these figures seen, men apparel-
led like them shall conquer Spain and shall be Lords
thereof..
"When the King Don Rodrigo saw this he was
troubled at heart, and all the knights who were with
him. And they said unto him, Now, sir, you may see
what has befallen you, because you would not listen
to those who counselled you not to pry into so great
athing, and because you despised the kings who were
before you, who all observed the commands of Her
cules, and ordered them to be observed, but you
would not do this. And he had greater trouble in his
heart than he had ever before felt; howbeit he began
to comfort them all, and said to them, God forbid that
all this which we have seen should come to pass.
Nevertheless, I say, that if things must be according
as they are here declared, I could not set aside that
which hath been ordained, and therefore it appears
that I am he by whom this house was to be opened,
and that for me it was reserved. And seeing it is done,
there is no reason that we should grieve for that
which cannot be prevented, i it must needs come.
And let come what may, with all my power I will
strive against that which Hercules has foretold, even
till I take my death in resisting it; and if you will all
do in like manner, I doubt whether the whole world
can take from us our power. But ifby God it hathbeen
appointed, no strength and no art can avail against
 272
his Almighty power, but that all things must be ful
filled even as to him seemeth good. In this guise they
went out of the bouse, and he charged them all that
they should tell no man of what they had seen there,
and ordered the doors to be fastened in the same
manner as before. And they had hardly finished fast-
ening them, when they beheld an eagle fall right
down from the sky, as if it had descended from
Heaven, carrying a burning fire-brand, which it laid
upon the top of the house, and began to fan it with
its wings; and the fire-brand with the motion of the
air began to blaze, and the house was kindled and
burat as if it had been made of rosin, so strong and
mighty were the flames, and so high did they blaze
up, that it was a great marvel, and it burnt so long
that there did not remain the sign of a single stone,
and all was burnt into ashes. And after a while there
came a great flight of birds small and black, who ho-
vered over the ashes, and they were so many, that
with the fanning of their wings, all the ashes were
stirred up, and rose into the air, and were scattered
over the whole of Spain; and many of those persons
upon whom the ashes fell, appeared as if they had
been besmeared with blood. All this happened in a
day, and many said afterwards, that all those persons
upon whom those ashes fell, died in battle when
Spain was conquered and lost; and this was the first
sign of the destruction of Spain."-Cronica del Rey
D. Rodrigo, Part I. c. 28, 30,
"Y siendo verdad lo que escriven nuestros Chronistas,
y el Alcayde Tarif, las letras que en este Palacio fuer-
on halladas, no se ha de entender quefueronpuestaspor
Hercules en su fundacion, ni por algun nigromantico,
como algunospiensan, pues solo Dios sabe las cosaspor
venir, y aquellos aquien el es servido revelarlas: bien
puede ser quefuessenpuestaspor alguna santapersona
aquien nuestro Senor lo oviesse revelado y mandado;
como revelo el castigo que avia de suceder del deluvio
generalentiempo de Noe, quefuepregonero de lajusti
cia de Dios; y el de las ciudades de Sodoma y Gomorra
 273
•
a Abraham -Fran. de Pisa, Descr. de Toledo. L. 2.
c. 31.
The Spanish ballad upon the subject, fine as the
subject is, is flat as a flounder;-
De los nobilissimos Godos
que en Castilla avian reynado
Rodrigo regno elpostrero
de los reyes que hanpassado;
en cuyo tiempo los Moros
toda Espana avianganado,
sinofuera las Asturias
que defendio Don Pelayo.
En Toledo esta Rodrigo
al comienzo del 1 cynado,
vinolegran voluntad
de ver lo que esta cerrado
en la torre que esta alli,
antigua de muchos anos.
En esta torre los reyes
cada uno hecho un canado
porque lo ordenara ansi
Hercules el afamado
que gano primero a Espana
de Gerion gran tirano.
Creyo el rey que avia en la torre
gran thesoro alliguardado;
la torrefue luego abierta
y quitados los canados;
no ay en ella cosa alguna,
sola una caxa han hallado.
El rey la mandara abrir;
unpano dentro se ha hallado,"
con unas letras latinas
que dizen en Castellano,
Quando aquestas cerraduras
que cierran estos canados,
fueren abiertas y visto
lo en elpano debuxado,
Espana sera perdida,
M2
 274
y toda ella asolada;
ganaranla gente estrana
como aqui estan figurados,
los rostros muy denegridos,
los braços arremangados,
muchas colores vestidas,
en las cabeças tocados,
alçadas traeran sus senas
en cavallos cavalgando,
largas lanças en sus manos,
con espadas en su lado.
Alarabes se diran
y de aquesta tierra estranos;
perderase toda Espana,
que nada no aurafincado.
El rey con sus ricos hombres
todos se avian espantado
quando vieron lasfiguras
y letras que hemos contado,
buelven a cerrar la torre,
quedo el rey muy angustiado.
Juan Yague de Salas relates a singular part of this
miracle, which I have not seen recorded any where
but in his curious poem:-
Cantocomo rompidos los candados
De la lobrega cueva, y despedidas
De sus senos obscuros vozes tristes
No bien articuladas, si a remiendos,
Repetidas adentro por el ayre,
Yuna mas bronca se escucho que dize,
Desdichado Rey Ro y acaba digo,
Quedando la R submersa entre piçarras)
La Coroperderas, y el Man, y el Ce,
No dixo el na, ni el do, ni el tro, no dixo;
Almenos no se oyo, si bien oyose
Por lascivo tirano y por sobervio,
Que yapermite el cielo que el de Meca
Castiguepor tu causa el Reyno Godo.
Por solo que lo riges con mal modo.
Los Amantes de Teruel, p. 29.
 275
The Chronica General del Rey Don Alfonso gives
a singular account of the first inhabitant of this fatal
spot:-
" There was a king who had to name Rocas; he
was of the eastt country from m Edom, wherein was
Paradise, and for the love of wisdom he forsook his
kingdom, and went about the world seeking know-
ledge. And in a country between the east and the
north he found seventy pillars; thirty were of brass,
thirty of marble, and they lay upon the ground, and
upon them was written all knowledge and the nature
of things. These Rocas translated, and carried with
him the book in which he had translated them, by
which he did marvels. He came to Troy when the
people under Laomedon were building the city, and
seeing them he laughed. They asked him why, and he
replied, that if they knew what was to happen, they
would cease from their work. Then they took him
and led him before Laomedon, and Laomedon asked
him for why he had spoken those words, and Rocas
answered, that he had spoken truth, for the people
should be put to the sword, and the city be destroyed
byfire. Wherefore the Trojans would have slain him,
but Laomedon judging that he spake from folly, put
him in prison to see if he would repent. He, fearful
ofdeath, by his art sent a sleep upon the guards, and
filed off his irons, and went his way. And he came to
the seven hills by the Tyber, and there upon a stone
he wrote the letters ROMA, and Romulus found
them, and gave them as a name to his city, because
they bore a resemblance to his own.
"Then went King Rocas westward, and he enter-
ed Spain, and went round it and through it, till com
ing to the spot where Toledo stands, he discovered
that it was the central place of the country, and that
one day a city should there be built, and there he
found a cave into which he entered. There lay in it a
huge dragon, and Rocas in fear besought the dragon
not to hurt him, for they were both creatures of God.
And the dragon took such love towards him, that he
 276
always brought him part of his food from the chase,
and they dwelt together in the cave. One day an
honourable man of that land, by name Tartus, was
hunting in that mountain, and he found a bear, and
the bear fled into the cave, and Rocas in fear ad-
dressed him as he had done the dragon, and the bear
quietly lay down, and Rocas fondled his head, and
Tartus following, saw Rocas how his beard was long,
and his body covered with hair, and he thought it
was a wild man, and fitted an arrow to his bow, and
drew the string. Then Rocas besought him in the
1 name of God not to slay him, and obtained security
for himself and the bear under his protection. And
when Tartus heard how he was a king, he invited
him to leave that den and return with him, and he
would give him his only daughter in marriage, and
leave him all that he had. By this the dragon return-
ed. Tartus was alarmed, and would have fled, but
Rocas interfered, and the dragon threw down half
an ox, for he had devoured the rest, and asked the
stranger to stop and eat. Tartus declined the invita-
tion, for he must be gone. Then said Rocas to the
dragon, My friend, I must now leave you, for we
have sojourned together long enough. So he depart-
ed, and married, and had two sons, and for love ofthe
dragon he built a tower over the cave, and dwelt
there. After his death, one of his sons built another,
and King Pirros added more buildings, and this was
the beginning of Toledo."
29 Redeemed Magdalen.-X. p. 78.
Lardner published a letter to Jonas Hanway, show-
ing why houses for the reception of penitent harlots
ought not to be called Magdalen Houses: Mary Mag
dalen not being the sinner recorded in the 7th chap-
ter ofLuke, but a woman ofdistinction and excellent
character, who laboured under some bodily infirmity,
which our Lord miraculously healed.
In the Shebboleth of Jean Despagne, is an article
thus entitled: De Marie Magdelaine, laquelle fausse
 he Ame not which ofold boy
has fallen forestof

ment on dit avoir estefemme de mauvaise vie: Le tort

que luyfont les Theologians pour laplut part en leurs
sermons, en leurs livres; et specialement la Bible An-
gloise en l'Argument du 7e chap. de. S. Luc.
" The injury,” says this Hugonot divine, " which
the Romish church does to another Mary, the sister
of Lazarus, has been sufficiently confuted by the
orthodox. It has been ignorantly believed that this
Mary, and another who was of Magdala, and the sin-
ner who is spoken of in the 7th of Luke, are the same
person, confounding the three in one. We have justi-
fied one ofthe three, to wit, her of Bethany, the sister
ofLazarus; but her of Magdala we still defame, as if
that Magdalen were the sinner of whom St. Luke
speaks.
"Nothing is more common in the mouth of the
vulgar than the wicked life of the Magdalene. The
preachers who wish to confess souls that are afflicted
with horror at their sins, represent to them this wo-
man as one of the most immodest and dissolute that
ever existed, to whom, however, God has shown
mercy. And upon this same prejudice, which is al
together imaginary, has been founded a reason why
the Son of God having been raised from the dead ар-
peared to Mary Magdalene before any other person;
for, said they, it is because she had greater need of
consolation, having been a greater sinner than the
others. He who wrote the Practice of Piety places
her with the greatest offenders, even with Manasses,
one of the wickedest of men; and to authorise this
error the more, it has been inserted in the Bible
itself. For the argument to the 7th of Luke in the
English version says, that the woman whose sins were
in greater number than those of others,-the woman,
who till then had lived a wicked and infamous life,
was Mary Magdalen. But, 1st, The text gives no
name to this sinner: Where thenhas it been found?
Which of the Evangelists, or what other authentic
writing, has taught us the proper name or surname
ofthe woman? For she who poured an ointment upon
фой ker table of watents
as top ofchapter in A.V
 278
Christ (Matth. xxvi. John xii.) was not this sinner,
nor Mary Magdalene, but a sister of Lazarus. All
these circumstances show that they are two different
stories, two divers actions, performed at divers times,
in divers places, and by divers persons. 2dly, Where
do we find that Mary Magdalene ever anointed the
feet of our Saviour? 3dly, Where do we find that
Mary Magdalene had been a woman of evil life? The
gospel tells us that she had been tormented with seven
devils or evil spirits,-an affliction which might hap-
pen to the holiest person in the world: But we do not
see even the shadow ofa word there which marks her
with infamy. Why then do we still adhere to an in-
vention not only fabulous, but injurious to the me-
mory of a woman illustrious in piety? We ought in
all to beware of bearing false witness against the dead
as against the living.
It is remarkable that neither the sinner (Luke
vii.) nor the adulteress who is spoken of in the 8th of
John, are named in the sacred history, any more than
the thief who was converted on the cross. There are
particular reasons, beyond a doubt, and we mayin
part conjecture them, why the Holy Spirit has ab-
stained fromrelating the names ofthese great sinners,
although converted. It is not then for us to impose
them; still less to appropriate them to persons whom
the Scripture does not accuse of any enormous sins."
30 That Egyptian penitent.-X. p. 78.
St. Mary the Egyptian. This is one ofthose religi-
ous romances which may probably have been writ
ten to edify the people without any intention of
deceiving them. Some parts of the legend are beau
tifully conceived. An English catholic has versified
it in eight books, under the title of the Triumph of
the Cross, or Penitent of Egypt. Birmingham, 1776.
He had the advantage of believing his story,-which
ought to have acted like inspiration.
 279
31
The dreadful tale.-X. P. 78.
Amava el Rey la desigual Florinda
Enser gentil, y desdenosa dama,
Que quiere amor, que quando un Rey se rinda
Desdenes muedan resistir su llama:
Nofue de Grecia mas hermosa y linda
Laque le dio por su desdichafama,
Ni desde el Sagitario a Cynosura
Se vio entanto rigor tanta hermosura.
Creciò el amor como el desden crecia;
Enojose elpoder; la resistencia
Sefue aumentando, pero no podia
Sufrir un Rey sujeta competencia:
Estendiose àfuror la cortesia,
Los terminos passo de la paciencia,
Haziendo los mayores desenganos
Las horas meses, y los meses anos.
Cansado ya Rodrigo de quefuesse
Teorica el amor, y intentos vanos,
Sin que demostracion alguna huviesse,
Puso su gusto enpratica de manos:
Pues quien de tanto amor no le tuviesse,
Yo Con los medios masfaciles y humanos,
Comotendria entonces sufrimiento
De injustafuerça en el rigor violento?
Ansias, congojas , lagrimas y vozes,
Amenazas, amores, fuerça, injuria,
Pruevan, pelean, llegan, danferozes
Al que ama, rabia, al que aborrece,furia:
Discurren los pronosticos velozes,
Que ofrece el pensamiento aquien injuria;
Rodrigo teme, y ama, yfuerça, y ella,
Quanto mas se resiste, està mas bella.
Ya viste de jazmines el desmayo
Las eladas mexillas siempre hermosas,
Ya la verguença del clavel de Mayo,
Alexandrinas, y purpureas rosas:
 280
Rodrigo ya como encendido rayo,
Que no respeta las sagradas cosas,
Ni se ahoga en sus lagrimas, ni mueve
Porque se abrasse, o se convierta en nieve.
Rindiose alfin lafemenilflaqueza
Al varonil valor y atrevimiento;
Quedò sin lustre la mayor belleza
Que es de una casta Virgen ornamento:
Siguio à la injustafuria la tibieza,
Apareciose el arrepentimiento,
Que viene como sombra del pecado,
Principios del castigo del culpado.
Fuecon Rodrigo este mortal disgusto,
Y quedò con Florinda la vengança,
Que lepropuso el echo mas injusto
Que de muger nuestra memoria alcança;
Dizese que no ver en el Rey gusto,
Sino de tanto amor tanta mudança
Fue la ocasion, que la muger gozada
Mas siente aborrecida queforçada.
Jerusalem Conquistada. T. 6. ff. 132.
Lope de Vega quotes scripture in proof ofthe opi-
nion exprest in this last couplet. 2 Kings, ch. xiii.
Old Barrett tells the story as ancient Pistol would
have done.
In Ulit's time there regalized in Spain
One Roderick, king from the Gothians race't;
Into whose secret heart with silent strain
Instretcht the 'sturber of hart pudike chast,
Him enamourizing of a piece,
A piece by Nature quaintly symmetrized,
Enfayred with beauty as Helen fair of Greece;
Count Julian's daughter ofbed- wedlockized,
Ycleaped Caba; who in court surshined
The rest, as Hesperus the dimmed stars.
This piece the king in his Love's closet shrined,
Survicting her by wile, gold, gems, or forced jars.
 281
It is thus related in the fabulous Chronicle. " Des
pues que el Rey ovo descubierto su coraçon a la Cava,
no eradia quela no requiriesse una vez o dos, y ella se
defendia con buena razon: empero al cabo como el Rey
nopensava cosa como en esto, un dia en la fiesta embio
con un donzel suyo por la Cava; y ella vino a su man-
dado; y como en essa hora no avia en toda su camara
etroningunosino ellos todos tres, elcumplio con ella todo
lo quepuso. Empero tanto sabed que si ella quisiera dar
bozes que bienfuera oyda de la reyna, mas callose con
lo que el Rey ouisofazer."-P. 1 c. 172.
In this fabulous Chronicle Roderick's fall is repre-
sented as the work of his stars.-" Y aunque a las
vezespensava el gran yerro en que tocava, y en la mal-
dad que su coraçon avia cometido, tanto era el ardor
quetenia que lo olvidava todo, y esto acarreava la ma
landança que le avia de venir, y la destruycion de Espa-
na que avia de aver comienço para sefazer; y quiero
vos dezir que su constelacion no podia escusar queesto
nopassasse assi; y ya Dios lo avia dexado en su dis
crecion; y elpor cosa quefuesse no se podia arredrar
que no topasse en ello."-P. 1. c. 164.
Certes, says the fabulous Chronicler, he was a Lord
ofgreater bounty than ever had been seen before his
time. He used to say, that ifall the world were his,
be would rather lose it than one friend; forthe world
was a thing, which ifit were lost, might be recovered;
but a friend once lost could never be recovered for
all the treasure in the world. And because he was thus
bountiful, all those of Spain were likewise; and they
had the fame of being the most liberal men in the
world, especially those of the lineage of the Goths.
Never a thing was asked at his hands, whether great
or small, to which he could say no; and never king
nor other great Lord asked aid ofhim that he denied,
but gave them of his treasures and of his people as
much as they needed: And doubt not, but that iffor-
tune had not ordered that in his time, the lineage of
the Goths should be cut off, and Spain destroyed,
there was no king or emperor whom he would not
 282
have brought in subjection; and if the whole world
ought to be placed in the power of one man, (speak
ing ofworldly things) there never was, nor will be, a
man deserving to possess it, save he alone. But as
envyis the beginning ofall evil, and sawhowgreat was
the goodness of this king, she never rested till she
had brought about that things should be utterly re-
versed, even till she had destroyed him. Oh what
great damage to the world will it be when God shall
consent that so much bounty, and courage, and frank-
ness, and loyalty should be destroyed for ever! All
nations ought to clad themselves in wretched weeds
one day in the week to mourn for the flower ofthe
world, and especially ought the people of Spain to
make such mourning."-Chronica del Rey Don Rodri
go, p. 1. c. 55.
And again, when the last battle is approaching, he
praises the king.-" el Rey era el mas esforçado
hombre de coraçon que nunca se oyo dezir; y el más
franco de todo lo que podia aver; y preciava mas co-
brar amigos que no quanto tesoro pudiesse estar en su
reyno, hasta el dia que creyo el consejo del traydor del
conde Don Julian; y a maravilla era buen cavallero,
que al tiempo que el no era rey, no sefallava cavallero
que a la su bondad se ygualasse, y tanto sabed que sino
por estas malandanças que le vinieron, nunca cavalle-
ro al mundo de tales condiciones fue; que nunca a el
vino chico ni grand que del se partiesse despagado a
culpa suya."-P. 1. c. 213.
The manner in which Florinda calls upon her fa-
ther to revenge her is curiously expressed by Lope
de Vega.
424 Al escrivirle tiemblan pluma y mano, vr
Llega el agravio, la piedad retira,
Pues quantoescrive la vengança, tanto
Quiere borrar de la verguença el llanto.
No son menos las letras que soldados,
Los ringlones yleras y esquadrones,
 283

Quealson de los suspiros vanformados

Haciendo las distancias las diciones:
Los mayores caracteres, armados
Navios, tiendas, maquinas, pendones;
Lospuntos, los incisos, los acentos
Capitanes, Alferez y Sargentos.
Breveprocesso escrive, aunque el sucesso
Significar quexosa determina,
Pero en tan breve causa, en talprocesso
Laperdicion de Espana sefulmina. ,
Jerusalen Conquistada, L. 6. ff. 133.
I remember but one ofthe old poets who has spo-
ken with compassion of Florinda: It is the Portu-
gueze Bras Garcia Mascarenhas, a writer who, with
many odd things in his poem, has some fine ones.
Refresca em Covilham agente aflita,
Nam se sabe que nome entam a honrava;
Mayto depoisfoy Cava Julia dita,
Por nascer nella a desditada Cava.
Nam a deslustra, antes a acredita
Filha que a honra mais que hum Rey presava;
Hespanha culpe aforça sem desculpa,
Nam culpe a bella, que nam teve culpa.
个 Viriato Tragico, Canto II. St. 118.
Wamba's wars.- XII. p. 87. 32
In the valuable history of this king by a contem
porary writer, the following character of the French
is given:-
66 Hujus igitur gloriosis temporibus, Galliarum terra
altrix perfidiae infami denotatur elogio, quae utique
inaestimabili infidelitatisfebre vexata, genita a se infi-
delium depasceret membra. Quid enim non in illa cru-
dele vel lubricum? ubi conjuratorum conciliabulum,
perfidiae signum, obscoenitas operum,fraus negotiorum,
vaenalejudicium, et quod pejus his omnibus est, contra
 284
ipsum Salvetorem nostrum et Dominum, Judaeorum
blasphemantium prostibulum habebatur. Haec enim
terra suo, ut ita dixerim, partu, perditionis suae sibimet
praeparavit excidium, et ex ventris sui generatione vi-
perea eversionis suae nutrivit decipulam. Etenim dum
multojam tempore hisfebrium diversitatibus ageretur,
subitoin ea unius nefandi capitisprolapsione turbo infi-
delitatis adsurgit, et conscensio perfidiae per unum ad
plurimos transit."-S. Julian, Hist. Wamba, §. 5.-
Espana Sagrada, 6. 544.
The bath, the bed,
33 The vigil. XII. p. 88.
The Partidas have some curious matter upon this
subject.
"Cleanliness makes things appear well to those who
behold them, even as propriety makes them seemly,
each in its way. And therefore the ancients held it
good that knights should be made cleanlily. For even
as they ought to have cleanliness with in them in their
manners and customs, so ought they to have it with-
out in their garments, and in the arms which they
wear. For albeit theirbusiness is hard and cruel,being
to strike and to slay; yet notwithstanding they may
not so farforego their natural inclinations, as not tobe
pleased with fair and goodly things, especially when
they wear them. For on one part they give joy and
delight, and on the other make them fearlessly per
form feats of arms, because they are aware that by
them they are known, and that because ofthem men
take more heed to what they do. Therefore, for this
reason, cleanliness and propriety do not diminish the
hardihood and cruelty which they ought to have.
Moreover, as is aforesaid, that which appears with
out is the signification of what they have in their
inclinations within. And therefore the ancients or
dained that the squire, who is ofnoble lineage, should
keep vigil the day before he receives knighthood.
And after mid-day the squires shall bathe him, and
wash his head with their hands, and lay him in the
 285
goodliest bed that may be. And there the knights
shall draw on his hose, and clothe him with the best
garments that can be had. And when the cleansing
of the body has been performed, they shall do as
much to the soul, taking him to the church where he
is to labour in watching and beseeching mercy of
God, that he will forgive him his sins, and guide him
so that he may demean himself well in that order.
which he is about to receive; to the end that he may
defend his law, and do all other things according as
it behoveth him, and that he would be his defender
and keeper in alldanger and in all difficulties. And he
ought to bear in mind how God is powerful above all
things, and can show his power in them when he
listeth, and especially in affairs of arms. For in his
hand are life and death, to give and to take away, and
to make the weak strong, and the strong weak. And
when he is making this prayer, he must be with his
t knees bent, and all the rest of the time on foot, as long
as he can bear it. For the vigil of knights was not or
dained to be a sport, nor for any thing else, except
that they, and those who go there, should pray to God
to protect them, and direct them in the right way,
and support them, as men who are entering upon the
way ofdeath." Part. II. Tit. 21. Ley 13.
"When the vigil is over, as soon as it is day, he
ought first to hear mass, and pray God to direct all
his feats to his service. And afterwards he who is to
knight him shall come and ask him, if he would re-
ceive the order of knighthood; and if he answereth
yea, then shall it be asked him, ifhe will maintain it
as it ought to be maintained; and when he shall have
promised to do this, that knight shall fasten on his
spurs, or order some other knight to fasten them on,
according to what manner ofman he may be, andthe
rank which he holdeth. And this they do to signify,
that as a knight putteth spurs on the right and on
the left, to make bis horse gallop straight forward,
even so ought he to let his actions be straight forward;
swerving on neither side. And then shall his sword
be girt on over his brial.-Formerly it was ordained
 286
that when noble men were made knights, they should
be armed at all points, as if they were about to do
battle. But it was not held good that their heads
should be covered, for they who cover their heads do
so for two reasons: The one to hide something there
which hath an ill look, and for that reason they may
well cover them with any fair and becoming cover-
ing. The other reason is, when a man hath done some
unseemly thing ofwhich he is ashamed. And this in
no wise becometh noble knights. For when they are
about to receive so noble and so honourable a thing
as knighthood, it is not fitting that they should enter
into it with any evil shame, neither with fear. And
when they shall have girded on his sword, they shall
draw it from out the scabbard, and place it in his
right hand, and make him swear these three things:
first, That he shall not fear to die for his faith, ifneed
be; secondly, For his natural Lord; thirdly, For his
country; and when he hath sworn this, then shallthe
blow on the neck be given him, in order that these
things aforesaid may come intohis mind, saying, God
guard him to his service, and let him perform all that
he hath promised; and after this, he who hath con-
ferred the order upon him, shall kiss him in token
ofthe faith and peace and brotherhood which ought
to be observed among knights. And the same ought
all the knights to do who are in that place, not only
at that time, but whenever they shall meet with him
during that whole year."-Part II. Tit. 21. Ley 14.
" The gilt spurs which the knights put on have
many significations; for the gold, which is so greatly
esteemed, he puts upon his feet, denoting thereby,
that the knight shall not for gold commit any malig-
nity or treason, or like deed, that would detract from
the honour of knighthood. The spurs are sharp that
they may quicken the speed of the horse, and this
signifies that the knight ought to spur and prick on
the people, and make them virtuous; for one knight
with his virtues is sufficient to make many people
virtuous, and on the other hand, he ought to prick a
 287
perverse people to make them fearful."-Tirante il
Bianco, p. 1. C. 19. ff. 44.
The hermit reads to Tirante a chapter from the
Arbor di batteglie, explaining the origin of knight-
hood. The work , it is there said, was corrupted,
when God, to the intent that he might be loved, ho-
noured, served, and feared once more, chose out
from every thousand men one who was more amia-
ble, more affable, more wise, more loyal, more strong,
more noble-minded, more virtuous, and of better cus-
toms than all the others: And then he sought among
all beasts for that which was the goodliest, and the
swiftest, and which could bear the greatest fatigue,
and might be convenient for the service of man; and
he chose the horse, and gave him to this man who
was chosen from the thousand; and for this reason he
was called cavelleiro, because the best animal was
thus joined to the most noble man. And when Romu-
lusfounded Rome, he chose out a thousand young men
to be knights, andfurno nominati militi porche mille
furonofatti in un tempo cavalleri.- P. 1. C. 14. ff. 40.
The custom which some kings had of knighting
themselves is censured by the Partidas.-P. 2. T. 21.
L. 11. It is there said, that there must be one to give,
and another to receive the order. And a knight can
no more knight, than a priest ordain himself.
"When the Infante Hernando of Castille was cho-
sen king of Aragon, he knighted himselfon his coro-
nation-day; de que tots los Barons nobles ho tengeren
unagran maravella com ell matex se feu cavaller, qui
segons los dessus dits deyen nenguno pot esser cavaller
sino dones nosfa cavaller, de ma de cavaller, qui hage
lorde de cavalleria."-P. Tomich. C. 47. ff. 68.
" The qualification for a knight, cavallero, or horse-
soldier, in the barbarous stage of society, were three:
1st, That he should be able to endure fatigue, hard-
ship, and privations. 2dly, That he should have been
used to strike, thathis blows might bethe more deadly.
3dly, That he should be bloody-minded: and rob, hack,
and destroy the enemy without compunction. The
persons, therefore, who were preferred, were moun-
Oburishsly in aulas with what
Tennysmy says in
"
 288
taineers, accustomed to hunting, carpenters, black-
smiths, stone-cutters, and butchers. But it being
found that such persons would sometimes run away,
it was then discovered that they who were chosen for
Cavaliers ought to have a natural sense of shame.
And for this reason it was appointed that they should
be men offamily."-Partida, 2. T. 21. L. 2. Vegetius,
L. 1. c. 7.
The privileges of knighthood were at one time so
great, that if the goods of a knight were liable to
seizure, they could not be seized where he or his wife
were present, nor even where his cloak or shield was
to be found. Part. 2. Tit. 21. Ley 23.
34 The coated scales of mail
Which o'er the tunic tohis kneesdepend.-XII. p. 89.
Canciani (T. 3. p. 34.) gives a representation of
Roland from the porch of the Cathedral at Verona,
which is supposed to have been built about the be
ginning ofthe ninth century. The figure is identified
by the inscription on the sword, .. Durin-dar-da. The
lorica, which Canciani explains, Vestica bellica macu-
lis ferreis contexta, is illustrated by this figure. It is
a coat or frock of scale-mail, reaching to the knees,
and with half sleeves. The only hand which appears
is unarmed, as far as the elbow. The right leg also is
unarmed, the other leg and foot are in the same sort
of armour as the coat. The end of a loose garment
appears under the mail. The shield reaches from the
chin to the middle of the leg, it is broad enough at
the top to cover the breast and shoulder, and slopes
gradually off to the form of a long oval.
-
35 At every saddle-bow
Agory head was hung. -XIV. p. 101.
This picture frequently occurs in the Spanish
Chronicles. Sigurd theelder, Earl of Orkney, owed
his death to a like custom. Suddenly clapping spurs
to his horse, as he was returned home in triumph,
bearing, like each of his followers, one of these bloody
 289 -
spoils, a large front tooth in the mouth of the head
which hung dangling by his side, struck the calf of
his leg, the wound mortified, and he died.- The
Earl must have been bare-legged." Torfaeus, quoted in
Edmonston's View ofthe Zetland Islands, vol. I. p. 33.
In reverence to the priestly character.-XV. p. 108. 36
" At the synod of Mascou, laymen were enjoined
to do honour to the honourable clergy by humbly
bowing the head, and uncovering it, if they were
both on horseback, and by alighting also if the cler
gyman were a-foot."-Pierre de Marca. Hist. de Bearn,
1. 1. ch. 18. § 2.
Whom not the spoils of Atabalipa- 37
Could satisfy insatiate.-XVI. p. 114.
Hernando de Soto, the history of whose expedi-
tion to Florida by the Inca Garcilaso, is one ofthe
most delightful books in the Spanish language.
/Nor wicker store-house for the autumnal grain.”— 38
XVI. p. 115.
" Morales, (8. 23. 3.) speaking of the Asturians,
mentions with wonder their chairs, furniture, and
granaries ofbasket-work, .. las sillas y otras cosas de
servicio recias y firmas que hacen entretexidas de mim-
bres y varas de avellano. Y aun a mé no me espantaba
en aquella tierra tanto esto, como ver los graneros, que
ellos llaman los horreos, fabricados desta misma obra
de varas entretexidas, y tan tupidas y de tantafirme-
za, que sufren gran carga como buenasparedes.
Covadonga.- XVI. 39
The valley of Covadonga is thus described by the
Conde de Sakduena:-and the description is a fair spe-
cimen ofhis poem:-
Yace de Asturias, donde el Sol infante
Sus montes con primeras luces bana,
De Covadonga el sitio, que triunfante
Cunafue en que nacio la insigne Espana:
N
 290
Vierte en el Selaliquidos cristales
Con Buena y Deba, que de la montana
Deben la vida à lafragosacopa,
A quien antiguedad llamò de Europa.
Aqui lajuventud de un bello llano
Compite àflores, luces, de la esphera;
Tburlando el Invierno y el Verano
Eterna vive en el la Primavera:
Sobre sus glebas se derrama ufane
Elprodigioso cuerno de la Fiera
De Amaltea, y aromas, y colores
Confunden los matices con olores.
Robustos troncos, con pobladas ramas
Vuelven el sitio rustica Alameda,
Y del Sol nopermiten a las llamas
Lo espesopenetrar de la Arboleda:
Pierden sus rayos las ardientesfamas,
Pues lafrondosidad opuesta veda
La luz ul dia, y denso verde muro
Crepusculo le viste al ayrepuro.
Siguiendo la ribera de Peonia
Al Oriente Estival, y algo inclinado
Ala parte que mira al medio dia,
Otro valle se vè mas dilatado:
Ala derecha de esta selva umbria
Reynazo corre, queprecipitado
Va à dar à Buena en liquidos abrazos
Su pobre vena en cristalinos lazos.
Sinpassar de Reynazo el successivo
Curso, dexando presto su torrente,
Con el cristal se encuentrafugitivo
De Deba, a quien la Cueba dio lafuente:
La admiracion aqui raro motivo
Ve,formando la senda su corriente,
Pues lo estrecho del sitio penascoso
Hace camino del licor undoso.
 291
Hecho serpiente Deva del camino
En circulo se enrosca tortuoso,
Vomitando veneno cristalino
En elliquido aljofarproceloso:
En las orillas con vivaz destino,
En tosigo se vuelve, que espumoso
Inficiona lethal alpieligero,
Quando lepisa incanto el passagero.
Ya de este valle cierran las campanas,
Creciendo de sus riscos la estatura,
Desmesuradas tanto las montañas
Que opuscan ya del Sol la lumbrepura:
Son rusticos los lados, las entranas
Del valle visten siempre la hermosura
Fronsidad elayre, y de colores
El suelo texe alfombra de primores.
Aunque los montes con espesasbrenas
El lado al sitioforman horroroso,
Y contra su verdor desnudas penas
Compiten de lo llano lofrondoso;
Pintadospajarillos dulces senas
Al son del agua en trino sonoroso
De ignoradosidiomas en su canto
Dan con arpados picos dulce encanto.
Lo ultimo de este valle la alta sierra
De Covadonga ocupa, dondefuerte
Se expone el Heroe aljuego de la guerra,
Sin temor negro acaso de la suerte:
Los que animosos este sitio encierra
Elceno despreciando de la muerte,
Su pecho encienden en la altiva llama
Que nocabra en las trompas de la Fama.
De Diba en ella lapreciosafuente
Al llano brota arroyos de cristales,
Donde enpequena balsa su corriente
Se detiene en suspensos manatiales:
 292
Despues se precipita su torrente
Quanto sus ondas enfreno neutrales,
Con sonoroso ruido de la pena
El curso de sus aguas se despena.
Cierra todo este valle esta robusta
Pena, donde la Cueva està divina,
Que amenaza tajada a ser injusta
Delbreve llanoformidable ruina:
Parece quiere ser con sara adusta
Secopadron, yfiera se destina
A erigirse epitafiopenascoso,
Sepultando su horror el sitio hermoso.
Depiedra viva tan tremenda altura
Que la vista al mirarla se estremece;
Vastagrena se viste, y la hermosura
De la fertilidad seca aborrece:
Es tan desmesurada su estatura
Que estrecha el ayre, y barbara parece
Que quiere que la sirvan de Cimera
Lasfulminantes lucesde la Esphera.
Como adospicas en la pena dura
Construye en circo una abertura rara,
De unapica de alto, y dos de anchura,
Rica de sombras su mansion avara:
Ventana, ò boca de la cueva obscura,
Dande el Sol no dispensa su luz clara,
Tancorta, que su centro tenebroso
Aun no admite crepusculo dudoso.
En este sitio pues, donde compite
La rustiquez com las pintadas flores,
Pues lapelada sierra nopermite
A la vista, sino es yertos horrores:
Por el contrario el llano que en si admite
De los bellos matices los primores,
Efecto siendo de naturaleza
La union en lofealdad, y la belleza.
 293
A tiorbade cristal las dulces aves
Corresponden en trinos amorosos,
Vertiendo en blando son tonos suaves,
Ecos los ayres beben harmoniosos:
Enmudecen su canto quandograves
Bemoles gorgeando mas preciosos,
Es maestro à la barbara Capilla
El Ruysenor,plumada maravilla.
Elige este distrito la Divina
Providencia à lo grave de la hazana,
Pues aqui sujusticia determina
La monarquiafabricar de Espana:
A las cortas reliquias, que à la ruina
Reservò supiedad, enciende en sana
Religiosa, que à Imperio sin regundo
Abrafutura llave Nuevo mundo.
El Pelayo, Cant. ix.
Christoval de Mesa also describes the scene.
Acercandose mas, oye el sonido
Del agua, con un manso y sordo ruydo.
El qual era de quatro clarasfuentes
Que estavan de la ermita en las esquinas,
Cuyas puras deplata aguas corrientes
Mostro la blanca Luna cristalinas;
Ycorriendopor parats diferentes
Eran de grande maravilla dignas,
Yen qualquiera de todos por suparte
Naturaleza se esmero con arte.
La una mana de una viva pena,
Yqual si tambienfuera el agua vtva,
Parte labana, y parte se despena
Con rapida corrientefugitiva:
Despues distinto un largo arroyo ensena
Quepor diversas partes se derriba,
Con diferente curso en vario modo
Hasta que adonde nace buelve todo.
 294
Otra, que alta descubre ancho Orizonte,
Como agraviada del lugar segundo,
Sustenta un monstruo que parece un monte,
Qual Atlante que tiene en peso el mundo
Ycomo suele elcaudaloso Oronte
Dar el ancho tributo al mar profundo
Assi se arroja confuriosas ondas,
Por laspartes mas baxas y mas hondas.
Sale bramando la tercerafuente,
Como un mar, y despues por el arena
Va con tan mansa y placida corriente
Tangrata y sossegada, y tan serena,
Que a lasfieras, ganados, peces, gente,
Puede aplacar la sed, menguar la pena,
Ydadespues la buelta, y forma el cuerno
Dela Luna, imitando el curso eterno.
Nace la quarta de una gran caverna,
Ysiguiendo suprospera derrota
Parece quepor arte se govierna,
Segun va destilando gota a gota:
No vido antigua edad, edad moderna
En region muy propinqua, o muy remota,
Fuente tan peregrina, obra tan nueva
En gruta artificiosa, o tosca cueva.
Restauracion de Espana, Lib. 2. ff. 27.
Morales has given a minute description both of
the scenery and antiquities of this memorable place.
The Conde de Salduena evidently had it before him.
I also am greatly indebted to this faithful and excel-
lent author.
40 The timid hare soon learns that she may trust
The solitarypenitent, and birds
Willlight upon the hermit's harmless hand.-
XVII. p. 124.
Con mil mortificaciones
Sus passiones crucifican,
Porque ellas detodo mueran
Porque el alma solo viva.
 295
Hazenpor huyr al ocio
Cestos, y espuertas texidas
De las hojas de laspalmas
Que alli crecen sin medida.
Los arboles, y lasplantas
Porque a su gusto los sirvan
Para esto vergas offrecen,
De las mas tiernas quecrian.
Tambien de corcho hazen vasos
Cuentas,Cruzes, y basillas,
Cuyo modo artificioso.
El oro, y laplata embidian.
Este los cilicios texe,
Aquel haze disciplinas,
El otro las calaveras
En tosco palo esculpidas.
Uno a sombra del aliso,
Con la escritura divina
Misticos sentidos saca
De sus literales minas.
Otrojunto de lafuente
Que murmura en dulce risa,
Mira en los libros las obras
De los santos Eremitas.
Qualcerca del arroyuelo
Que saltando corre aprissa,
Discurre como a la muerte
Corre sinparar la vida.
Qual con un Christo abraçade
Besandole las heridas,
Herido de sus dolores,
A suspies llora, y suspira.
Qual en lasflores que al campo
Entre esmeraldas matizan,
Las grandezas soberanas
Del immenso autor medita.
Qual subida en laspiçarras
Queplata, y perlas distilan,
Con lagrimas acrecienta
Su corriente cristaline.
 296
Qual a las fieras convoca,
Las aves llama, y combida
A que al criador de todo
Alaben agradecidas.
Qual immoble todo el cuerpo,
Con las accionesperdidas,
Tiene arrebatada el alma
Alla donde amando anima.
Yde aquel extasi quando
Parece que resuscita,
Dize con razon que muere
Porque noperdio la vida.
Lafuerça de amor a vezes
Sueno, y reposo los quita,
Y saliendo de su estancia
Buscan del Cielo la vista.
Quando serena la noche.
Clara se descubre Cynthia,
Borlando de azul, yplata
Elpostrer mobil quepisa;
Quando el oro de su hermano
Nopuede tener embidia,
Que llena delque lepresta
Haze de la noche dia;
Del baculo acompanado
El amante Anachorita
Solo por las soledades
Solitarios pasos guia.
Yparando entre elsilencio
Las claras estrellas mira
Que le deleitan por obra
De la potencia divina.
En altas bozes alaba
Sin tenerquien se lo impida
Al amador soberano
Cuya gracia solicita.
Contempla sus perfeciones,
Susgrandezas soleniza,
Sus misericordias canta,
Sus eccelencias publica.
 297
La noche etenta entre tanto
Callandoporque el prosiga.
Cruxen los vezinos ramos,
rblando el viento respira.
Gimen las aves nocturnas
Por hazerle compania,
Suenan lasfuentes, y arroyos,
Retumban laspenasfrias.
Todo ayuda al solitario,
Mientras con el almafixa
En sus queridos amores
Contemplandolos se alivia.
Soledades de Busaco.
Fuller the Worthy has a beautiful passage in his
Church History concerning " Primitive Monks with
their Piety and Painfulness."-" When the furnace
of persecution in the infancy of Christianity was
grown so hot, that most cities, towns, and populous
places were visited with that epidemical disease,
many pious men fled into deserts, there to live with
more safety, and serve God with less disturbance. No
wild humour to make themselves miserable, and to
chuse and court their own calamity, put them on this
project, much less any superstitious opinion of trans-
cendent sanctity in a solitary life, made them will
ingly to leave their former habitations. For whereas
all men by their birth are indebted to their country,
there to stay and discharge all civil relations, it had
been dishonesty in them like bankrupts to run away
into the wilderness to defraud their country, their
creditor, except some violent occasion (such as perse-
cution was) forced them thereunto; and this was the
first original of monks in the world, so called from
Mixos, because living alone by themselves.
Here they in the desarts hoped to find rocks and
stocks, yea beasts themselves, more kind than men
had been to them. What would hide and heat, cover
and keep warm, served them for clothes, not placing
(as their successors in after ages) any holiness in
N2
 298
their habit, folded up in the affected fashion thereof
As fortheir food, the grass was their cloth, the ground
their table, herbs and roots their diet, wild fruits
and berries their dainties, hunger their sauce, their
nails their knives, their hands their cups, the next
well their wine-cellar; but what their bill of fare
wanted in cheer it had in grace, their life being con-
stantly spent in prayer, reading, musing, and such
like pious employments. They turned solitariness it-
self' into society; and cleaving themselves asunder by
the divine art of meditation, did make ofone, two, or
more, opposing, answering, moderating in their own
bosoms,andbusy in themselves with variety ofheaven-
ly recreations. It would do one good even but to
think of their goodness, and at the rebound and se-
cond hand to meditate upon their meditations. For
if ever poverty was to be envied it was here. And I
appeal to the moderate men of these times, whether
in the height of these woeful wars, they have not
sometimes wisht (not out ofpassionate distemper, but
serious recollection of themselves) some such private
place to retire unto, where, out of the noise of this
clamorous world, they might have reposed them-
selves, and served God with more quiet."

41 None but that heavenly Father, who alone

Beholds the struggles of the heart, alone
Knows andrewards the secret sacrifice.-
XVIII. p. 130.
Meu amorfaça em Deos seufundamento
Em Deos, que so conhece e so estima
A nobreza e o valor de hum pensamento.
Fernam Alvares do Oriente.

42 Sindered.-XVIII. p. 130.
"Per idem tempus divinæ memoria Sinderedus ur-
lis Regio Metropolitanus Episcopus sanctimonia stu
dio claret; atque longævos et merito honorabiles viros,
ques in suprafata sibi commissa Ecclesia repetit, non
 299
secundum scientiam zelo sanctitatis stimulat, atque in-
stinctujam dicti Witiza Principis eos sub ejus tempore
convexare non cessat; qui et post modicum incursus
Arabum expavescens, non ut pastor, sed ut mercenari.
us, Christi oves contra decreta majorum deserens, Ro-
manæ patriæ sese adventat.” —Isid. Pacensis, Espana
Sagrada, T. 8. p. 298.
"E assi como el Arzobispo fue cierto de la mala an-
dançapartio de Cordova; y nunca cesso de andar dia
ni nochefasta que llego a Toledo; y no embargante que
el erahombre de buema vida, no se quisso mostrarpor
tal como deviera ser, y sufrir antes martyrio por
amor deJesu Christo y esforçar los suyos, porque se
defendiessen, y que las gentes no desamparassen la
tierra; ca su intencion fue de ser confessor antes que
martyr."-Cor. del K. D. Rodrigo, p. 2. C. 48.
While the Church 43
Keeps in her annals the deserter's name;
Butfrom the service which with daily zeal
Devout her ancient prelacy recalls,
Blots it, unworthy topartake herprayers.—
XVIII. p. 130.
"Je ne serois pas en grande peine, says Pierre de
Marca, de rechercher les noms des Evesques de Bearn,
si la saincte et louable pratique des anciens Peres d'in-
serer dans les Diptyches, et cayers sacrés de chascune
Eglise, les nome des Evesques orthodoxes, et qui estoi-
ent decedés dans la communion de l'Eglise Catholique,
eust este continuée jusqu' aux derniers siecles. Et je
pourrois me servir en cette recontre du moyen que
l'Empereur Justinian et le cinquiesme Concile General
employerent, pour sçavoir si Theodore Evesque de
Mopsuestie estoit reconnu apres sa mort pour Evesque
de l'Eglise qu'il avoit possedée durant sa vie. Car ils
ordonnerent a l'Evesque et au Clergé de cette ville, de
revoir les Diptyches de leur Eglise, et de rapporter
fidellement ce qu'ils y trouveroient. Ce qu' ayant exe-
cuté diligemment, ils firent rapport qu' apres avoir
fueilletéquatredivers cayers enparchemin, qui estoient
 300
leurs Diptyches, ils y avoient trové le nom de tous les
Evesques de ce siege; horsmis qu' en la place de Theo-
dore, avoit este substitué le nom de Cyrille, qui estoit le
Petriarche d'Alexandrie; lequel presidant au Concile
d'Ephese avoit condamné l'heresie de Nestorius et de
Theodore de Mopsuestie. D'ou il apert que les noms de
tous les Evesques depuis l'origine et l'establissement de
chascune des Eglises estoient enregistrés dans les cay-
ers que l'on appelloit Diptyches, et que l'on les recitoit
nom par nom en leur lieu, pendant la celebration.dela
Liturgie, tant pour tesmoigner la continuation de la
communion avec les Evesques decedés, que l'on avoit
eue avec euxmesmes vivans, qu' afin de procurer par
les prieres publiques, et par l'efficace du sacrifice non
sanglant, en la celebration du quel ils estoient recom-
mandés a Dieu, suivant l'ordonnance des apostres, un
grand profit, soulagement, et refraichissement pour
leurs ames, comme enseignent Cyrille de Hierusalem,
Chrysostome, et Epiphane."-Histoire de Bearn, 1. 4.
c. 9.§ 1.
" Some time before they made oblation for the
dead, it was usual in some ages to recite the names of
such eminent bishops, or saints, or martyrs, as were
particularly to be mentioned in this part of the ser-
vice. To this purpose they had certain books, which
they called their Holy Books, and commonly their
Diptychs, from their being folded together, wherein
the names of such persons were written, that the dea-
con might rehearse themas occasion required, in the
time of divine service. Cardinal Bona and Schels-
trade make three sorts ofthese Diptychs; one where-
in the names ofbishops only were written, and more
particularly such bishops as had been governors of
that particular church: a second, wherein the names
of the living were written, who were eminent and
conspicuous either for any office and dignity, or some
benefaction and good work, whereby they had de-
served well of the church: in this rank were the pa-
triarchs and bishops of great sees, and the bishop
 301
and clergy of that particular church: together with
the emperors and magistrates, and others most con-
spicuous among the people: the third was, the book
containing the names of such as were deceased in ca-
tholic communion.-These therefore were of use,
partly to preserve the memory of such eminent men
as were dead in the communion of the church, and
partly to make honourable mention of such general
councils as had established the chief articles of the
faith; and to erase the names either of men or coun-
cils out of these Diptychs, was the same thing as to
declare that they were heterodox, and such as they
thought unworthy to hold communion with as cri
minals, or some ways deviating from the faith. Upon
this account St. Cyprian ordered the name of Gemi-
nius Victor to be left out among those that were
commemorated at the holy table, because he had bro-
ken the rules of the church. And Evagrius observes
of Theodorus bishop of Mopsuestia, that his name
was struck out of the Holy Books, that is, the Diptychs,
upon the account ofhis heretical opinions after death.
And St. Austin, speaking of Cæcilian, Bishop of
Carthage, whom the Donatists falsely accused of be-
ing ordained by Traditores, or men who had deliver-
ed up the Bible to be burned in the times of persecu
tion, tells them that if they could make good any
real charge against him, they would no longer name
him among the rest of the bishops, whom they be
lieved to be faithful and innocent at the altar."-
Bingham, b. 15. ch. 3. sect. 17.
Orary-XVIII. p. 131. 44
" The council of Laodicea has two canons concern-
ing the little habit called the Orarium, which was a
scarf or tippet to be worn upon the shoulders; and
might be used by bishops, presbyters, and deacons,
but not by subdeacons, singers, or readers, who are
expressly debarred the use of it in that council.-The
first council of Braga speaks of the tunica and the
orarium as both belonging to deacons. And the third
 302
council of Braga orders priests to wear the orarium
on both shoulders when they ministered at the altar.
By which we learn that the tunica or surplice was
common to all the clergy, the orarium on the left
shoulder proper to deacons, and on both shoulders
the distinguishing badge of priests. The fourth coun-
cil of Toledo is most particular in these distinctions.
For in one canon it says, that if a bishop, presbyter,
or deacon, be unjustly degraded, and be found in-
nocent by a synod, yet they shall not be what they
were before, unless they receive the degrees they had
lost from the hands of the bishops before the altar.
If he be a bishop, he must receive his orarium, his
ring, and his staff: if a presbyter, his orarium and
planeta: if a deacon, his orarium and alba. And in
another canon, that the deacon shall wear but one
orarium, and that upon his left shoulder, wherewith
he is to give the signal of prayers to the people.
Where we may observe also the reason of the name
erarium in the ecclesiastical sense ab orando, from
praying; though in common acceptation it signifies
no more than an handkerchief to wipe the face, and
so comes ab ore, in which signification it is sometimes
used by St. Ambrose and St. Austin, as well as by
the old Roman authors. But here we take it in the
ecclesiastical sense for a sacred habit appropriated to
bishops, priests, and deacons, in the solemnities of
divine service, in which sense it appears to have been
a habit distinct from that of civil and common use,
by all the authorities that have been mentioned.” —
Bingham, Book 13. c. 8. sect. 2.
45 Nor wore he mitre here,
Precious, or auriphrygiate.- XVIII. p. 132.
Mitra usus antiquissimus est, et ejus triplex est
species: una quæpretiosa dicitur, quia gemmis et lapi-
dibus pretiosis, vel laminis aureis, vel argenteis contex
ta esse solet; altera auriphrygiata sine gemmis, et siné
laminis aureis vel argenteis; sed vel aliquibus parvis
margaritis composita, vel ex serico albo auro intermis-
 303
tó, vel extela aurea simplici sine laminis et margaritis;
tertia, quae simplex vocatur, sine auro, ex simplici
sirico Damascens, vel alio, aut etiam linea, extela alba
confecta, rubeis lacinii, seu frangiis et vittis pendenti-
bus. Pretiosa utitur Episcopus in solemnioribusfestis,
et generaliter quandocumque in officio dicitur hymnus
Te Deum laudamus, &c. et in missa Gloria in excelsis
Deo. Nihilominus in eisdemfestis etiam auriphrygiata
utipoterit, sed potius ad commoditatem quam ex neces-
sitate; ne scilicet Episcopus nimis gravetur, si in toto
officiopretiosa utatur; propterea usu receptum est,tam
in Vesperis, quam in Missis, ut pretiosa utatur Episco-
pus in principio et infine Vesperarum et Missarum
solemnium, ac eundo ad Ecclesiam et redeundo ab ea;
et quando lavat manus et dat benedictionem solemnem.
Intermedio autem spatio loco pretiosae acipit auriphry-
giatam -Auriphrygiata mitra utitur Episcopus ab Ad-
ventu Domini usque ad festum Nativitatis, excepta
Dominica tertia Adventus, in qua dicitur Introitus
Gaudete, &e. ideoque in signum laetitiae utitur tunc
pretiosa. Item a Septuagesima usque ad feriam quar-
tam majoris hebdomadae inclusivé, excepta Dominica
quarta Quadragesimae, in qua dicitur Introitus Læta-
re, &c. Item in omnibus vigiliis, quaejejunantur, et in
omnibus quatuor temporibus; in Rogationibus, Litaniis
et processionibus, quae ex causa penitentiae fiunt; in
festo Innocentium, nisi veniat in Dominica; et in bene-
dictionibus, et consecrationibus, quae private aguntur.
Quibus quidem temporibus abstinet Episcopus a mitra
pretiosa. Poterit tamen Episcopus dum utitur auri-
phrygiata, uti etiam simplici eodem modo et forma,
prout de pretiosa et auriphrygiata dictum est. Simplici
vero mitra utitur Episcopus feria sexta in Paraseve,
et in officiis et Missis defunctorum."- Cæremonialè
Episcoporum, 1. 1. c. 17.
 304
46 The pall
Of wool undyed, which on the Apostle's tomb
Gregory had laid.-XVIII. p. 132.
" Bythe way, the pall is a pontificall vestment, con-
siderable for the matter, making, and mysteries
thereof. For the matter it is made oflamb's wooll, and
superstition. I say of lamb's wooll, as it comes from
the sheep's back, without any other artificial colour,
spun, say some, by a peculiar order of nunnes, first
cast into the tombe of St. Peter, taken from his body
say others, surely most sacred if from both; and su-
perstitiously adorned with little black crosses. For the
form thereof; the breadth exceeded not three fingers,
one ofour bachelours lamb-skin hoods in Cambridge
would make three of them, having two labells hang.
ing down before and behind, which the arch-bishops
onely, when going to the altar, put about their necks,
above their other pontificall ornaments. Three mys-
teries were couched therein. First, Humility, which
beautifies the clergy above all their costly copes. Se-
condly, Innocency, to imitate lamb-like simplicitie.
And, Thirdly, Industry, to follow him who fetched
his wandring sheep home on his shoulders. But to
speak plainly, the mystery of mysteries in the pall
was, that the arch-bishops receiving it shewed there-
in their dependence on Rome; and a mote in this man-
ner ceremoniously taken was a sufficient acknow-
ledgement of their subjection. And as it owned
Rome's power, so in after ages it increased their pro-
fit. For, though now such palls were freely given to
archbishops, whose places in Britain for the present
were rather cumbersome than commodious, having
little more than their paines for their labour; yet in
after ages the arch-bishop of Canterburie's pall was
sold for five thousand florenes, so that the pope might
well have the golden fleece if he could sell all his
lamb's-wooll at that rate. Onely let me add, that the
authour of Canterbury-book stiles this pall Tanquam
grande Christi Sacramentum. It is well tanquam came
in to help it, or else we should have had eight sa-
craments."-Fuller's Church History, page 71.
 305
The relics and the written works ofSaints
Toledo's choicest treasure, prized beyond
All wealth, their living and their dead remains;
These tothe mountainfastnesses he bore
Ofunsubdued Cantabria, there deposed
One day to bethe boast ofyet unbuilt
Oviedo, andthe dear idolatry
Ofmultitudes unborn.- XVIII. p 131.
"Amongthose, says Morales, who then passed from
Toledo to Asturias, was the archbishop of Toledo,
named Urban.- He with a holy foresight collected
the sacred relics which he could, and the most pre-
cious books of his own church and of others, deter-
mining to carry them all to the Asturias, in order
that the holy relics might not be profaned or treated
with little reverence by the infidels; and that the
books ofthe Holy Scriptures, and ofthe ecclesiastical
offices, and the works of our holy doctors, might not
be lost. And although many relics are mentioned
which the archbishop then carried from Toledo,
especial mention is made of a holy ark full of many
and most remarkable relics, which through divers
chances and dangers had been brought from Jerusa-
lem to Toledo, and of which all that is fitting shall be
related in its place, if it please God that this history
should proceed. It is also expressly said, that the
cope which our Lady gave to St. Ildefonso, was then
carried to the Asturias with the other relics; and
being so capital a relic, it was a worthy thing to write
of it thus particularly. Of the sacred books which
which were saved at that time, there are specified
the Holy Scriptures, the Councils, the works of St.
Isidore, of St. Ildefonso, and of St. Julian the arch-
bishop of Toledo. And as there is at this day in the
church of Oviedo that holy ark, together with many
others of the relics which were then removed, so do
I verily believe that there are in the library of that
church three or four books of those which were then
brought from Toledo. I am led to this belief by see-
ing that they are written in a form of Gothic letters,
 306
which being compared with writings six hundred
years old, are without doubt much older, and of
characters so different, that they may well be attri
buted to the times of the Goths. One is the volume
of the Councils, another is a Santoral, another con-
tains the books of St. Isidore de Naturis Rerum, with
other works of other authors. And there are also some
leaves of a Bible.-To put these sacred relics in
greater security, and avoid the danger of the Moors,
they hid them in a cave, and in a sort of deep pit
therein, two leagues from the city of Oviedo, (which
,was not at that time built) in a mountain, which was
for this reason called Montesacro. It is now by a slight
corruption called Monsagro; and the people of that
country hold the cave in great veneration, and a great
romery, or pilgrimage, is made to it on St. Magdalen's
day."-Morales, 1. 12. c. 71.
The place where the relics were deposited is curi-
ously described in the Romantic Chronicle. " He
found that in this land of Asturias there was a sierra,
full great, and high, the which had only two entrances
after this manner. On the one entrance there was
a great river, which was to be passed seven times,
and in none of those seven places was it fordable at
any time except in the month ofJuly. And after the
river had been crost seven times, there was an ascent
of a long league up a high mountain, which is full of
many great trees, and great thickets, wherein are
many wild beasts, such as bears and boars and wolves,
and there is a pass there between two rocks, which
ten men might defend against the whole world, and
this is the one entrance. The other is, that you must
ascend this great mountain, by a path of two full
leagues in length, on the one side having always the
river, and the way so narrow, that one man must go
before another, and one man can defend the path in
such manner that no arbalist, nor engine of other
kind, nor any other thing, can hurt him, not if the
whole world were to come against him. And if any
ene were to stumble upon this path, he would fall
 307
more than two thousand braças, down overrocks into
the river, which lies at such a depth that the water
appears blacker than pitch. And upon that mountain
there is a good spring, and a plain where there are
good meadows, and room enough to raise grain for
eightor ten persons for ayear: and the snow is always
there for company, enduring from one year to an-
other. And upon that mountain the archbishop made
two churches, one to the honour of St. Mary Magda-
lene, and the other to the honour of St. Michael, and
there he placed all these reliques, where he had no
fear that any should take them; and for the honour
of these relics the archbishop consecrated the whole
mountain, and appointed good guard over the sacred
relics, and left there three men ofgood life, who were
willing to remain there serving God and doing pen-
ance for their sins."-P. 2. c. 48.
Of the Camara Santa, Morales has given a curious
accountin his Journal, the substance, with some other
remarkable circumstances, he afterwards thus insert-
ed in his great history:-
"The other church (or chapel) which King Alonso
el Casto ordered to be built on the south side of the
Iglesia Mayor, (or cathedral) was with the advocation
ofthe Glorious Archangel St. Michael. And in order
that he might elevate it, he placed under it another
church ofthe Virgin and Martyr St. Leocadia, some-
what low, and vaulted with a strong arch, to support
the great weight which was to be laid upon it. The
king's motive for thus elevating this church of St.
Michael, I believe certainly to have been because of
the great humidity of that land. He had determined
to place in this church the famous relics ofwhich we
shall presently speak, and the humidity ofthe region
is so great, that even in summer the furniture ofthe
houses on high ground is covered with mold. This
religious prince therefore elevated the church with
becoming foresight for reverence and better preser
vation of the precious treasure which was therein to
be deposited. For this reason they call it Camara, (the
 308

chamber), and for the many and great relics which it

contains it has most deservedly the appellation of
Holy. You ascend to it by a flight of twenty-two steps,
which begin in the cross of the Iglesia Mayor (or
cathedral) and lead to a vaulted apartment twenty
feet square, where there is an altar upon which mass
is said; for within there is no altar, neither is mass
said there by reason of the reverence shewn to so
great a sanctuary; and it may be seen that K. D.
Alonso intended in his plan that there should be no
altar within. In this apartment or outer chapel is a
great arched door with a very strong fastening; it
leads to another smaller square chamber, vaulted also,
with a square door, which also is fastened with an-
other strong fastening, and these are the fastenings
and keys which the Bishop Sampyro admires for their
strength and security.
" This square door is the door ofthe Holy Chamber
which is in the form of a complete church, and you
descend to it by twelve steps. The body of this
church is twenty-four feet in length, and sixteen in
width. Its arched roof is of the same dimensions. The
roof is most richly wrought, and supported upon six
columns of divers kinds of marbles, all precious and
right beautiful, upon which the twelve apostles are
sculptured, two and two. The ground is laid with
Mosaic work, with variety of columns, representing
jasper ware. The Bishop Sampyro had good reason
to complain of the darkness of this church, which bas
only one small window in the upper part of the
chapel; and, therefore, in this which we call the body
of the church there are commonly three silver lamps
burning, the one in the middle larger than the other
two, and many other lights are kindled when the
relics are shown. These are kept within a grating,
which divides the chapel from the church. The chapel
has two rich marbles at the entrance, it is eighteen
feet in length, and its width somewhat less; the floor
and the roof are after the same fashion as those of
the church, but it is one estado lower, which in those
 309
times seems to have been customary in Asturias and
in Galicia, the Capillas Mayores, or principal chapels,
being much lower than the body of the church. The
roof ofthe chapel is plain, and has painted in the mid-
dle our Saviour in the midst of the four Evangelists,
and this performance is so ancient that it is manifestly
ofthe age ofthe founder. At this iron grating stran
gers are usually detained; there is a lower one within
of wood, to which persons are admitted who deserve
this privilege for their dignity; and few there be who
enter farther. This church the king built to remove
to it, as accordingly he forthwith removed the holy
ark, the holy bodies, and the other great relics,
which at the destruction of Spain were hidden in
the cave and well of Monsagro, and for this cause
he had it built with so much care, and so richly, and
with such security.
" I have described the Camara Santa thus particu-
larly, that what I may say ofthe most precious relics
which it contains may be the better enjoyed. I will
particularize the most principal of them, beginning
with the Holy Ark, which with great reason has de-
served this name. It is in the midst ofthe chapel, close
to the wooden grate, so that you can only go round it
on three sides, and it is placed upon a stone pedestal,
wrought with mouldings of a palm in height. It is a
vara and a half (about five feet) in length; little less
than a vara wide, and about as deep, that part which
is ofsilver, not including the height which the pedes-
tal gives it. The cover is flat, and it is covered in all
parts with silver plates of some thickness, and gilt in
some places. In the front, or that side which fronts the
body ofthe church, it has the twelve apostles in more
than halfrelief, and on the sides there are histories of
Our Lady in the same silver-work. On the flat part of
the coverthere is a large crucifix engraved with many
other images round about it. The sides are elaborately
wrought with foliage, and the whole displays great
antiquity. The cover has round about it four lines in
the silver, which, however, are imperfect, the silver
being wanting in some places. What they contain is
 310
this, as I have copied it faithfully, with its bad Latin
and other faults:-
" Omnis conventus populi Deo dignus catholici cog-
noscat, quorum inclytas veneratur reliquias, intrapre-
tiosissimapræsentis archælatera. Hoc est delignopuri-
mum, sive de cruce Domini. De vestimentis illius, quod
per sortem divisum est. De pane delectabili unde in ce-
na usus est. De sindone Dominico ejus adque sudario et
cruore sanctissimo. De terra sancta quam piis calcavit
tunc vestigiis. De vestimentis matris ejus Virginis Ma-
riæ. De lacte quoque ejus, quod multum est mirabile.
Hispariterconjunctæ sunt quædam sanctorum maxime
prestantes reliquiæ, quorum prout potuimus, hæc
nomina subscripsimus. Hoc est de Sancto Petro, de
Sancto Thoma, Sancti Bartolmei. De ossibus Propheta-
rum, de omnibus Apostolis, et de aliis quam plurimis
sanctis, quorum nomina sola Dei scientia colligit. His
omnibus egregius Rex Adefonsus humili devotione per-
ditusfecit hoc receptaculum, sanctorum pignoribus in-
signitum argento deauratum, exterius adornatum non
vilibus operibus: per quod post ejus vitam mereatur
consortium illorum in celestibus sanctorumjubaripre-
cibus. Hæc quidem saluti et re- Here a large piece
ofthe silver is gone.-Novitomnis provintia in terra
sine dubro. Here there is another great chasm.-
Manus etindustria clericorum et præsulum, qui prop
ter hoc convenimus cum dicto Adefonso Principe, et cum
germana lactissima Urraca nomina dicta; quibus
Redemptor omnium concedit indulgentiam et suorum
peccatorum véniam, per hoc sanctorum pignora Apos
tolorum et Sancti Justi et Pastoris, Cosme et Damiani,
Eulalia Virginis, et Maximi, Germani, Baudili, Pan-
taleonis, Cypriani et Justina, Sebastiani, Facundi et
Primitivi, Christophori, Cucufati, Felicis, Sulpicii.
" This inscription, with its bad Latin and other
defects, and by reason of the parts that are lost, can
ill be translated . Nevertheless I shall render it, in
order that it may be enjoyed by all. It says thus:
Knowall the congregation of Catholic people, worthy
ofGod, whose the famous relics are, which they vene.
 311
rate within the most precious sides ofthis ark. Know
then that herein is great part of the wood or cross
ofour Lord. Of his garment for which they cast lots.
Of the blessed bread whereof he ate at the Supper.
Of his linen, of the holy handkerchief (the Sudario,)
and ofhis most holy blood. Ofthe holy ground which
he then trode with his holy feet. Of the garments of
his mother the Virgin Mary, and also of her milk,
which is a great wonder. With these also there are
many capital relics of saints, whose names we shall
write here as we can. Saint Peter, St. Thomas, St.
Bartholomew. Bones of the Prophets, and of all the
Apostles, and of many other Saints whose names are
known only to the wisdom of God. The noble King
Don Alonso, being full of humble devotion for
all these holy relics, made this repository, adorned
and ennobled with pledges of the Saints, and on the
outside covered with silver, and gilded with no little
cunning. For the which may he deserve after this
life the company of these Saints in Heaven, being
aided by their intercession.-These holy relics were
placed here by the care and by the hands of many
Clergy and Prelates, who were here assembled with
the said King D. Alonso, and with his chosen sister
called Donna Urraca. To whom,may the Redeemer
ofall grant remission and pardon of their sins, forthe
reverence and rich reliquary which they made for
the said relics of the Apostles, and for those of the
Saints, St. Justus and Pastor, St. Cosme and St.
Damian, St. Eulalia the Virgin, and of the Saints
Maximus, Germanus, Baudilus, Pantaleon, Cyprianus
and Justina, Sebastian, Facundus and Primitivus,
Christopher, Cucufatus, Felix and Sulpicius.-----
" The sum of the manner in which this Holy Ark
came into Spain is this, conformably to what is writ-
ten by all our grave authors: When Cosroes the King
of Persia, in the time ofthe Emperor Heraclius, came
upon the Holy Land, and took the city of Jerusalem,
the bishop of that city, who was called Philip, and
his clergy, with pions forethought, secreted the Holy
 312
Ark which from the time of the apostles had been
kept there, and its stores augmented with new relics,
which were deposited therein. After the victory of
Cosroes, the Bishop Philip, with many of his clergy,
passed into Africa, carrying with themthe Holy Ark;
and there it remained some years, till the Saracens
entered into that province also, and then Fulgentius
the Bishop of Ruspina, with providence like that
which had made Philip bring it to Africa, removed it
into Spain. Thus it came to the Holy Church of
Toledo, and was from thence removed to Asturias,
and hidden in the cave of Monsagro; finally, King D.
Alonso el Casto removed it to the Camara Santa; and
afterwards K. D. Alonso the Great enriched it. Thus
our histories write, and the same is read inthe lessons
on the festival which the Church of Oviedo celebrates
ofthe coming there of this Holy Ark, with a sermon
proper for the day, and much solemnity, the service
being said on the 13th of March after vespers, above
in the church of the Camara Santa. This is a most
weighty testimony which the Holy Ark possesses of
its own authenticity, and of the genuineness of the
most great treasure which it contains.-There also
are strong testimonies, that K. D. Alonso the Great
should not only have made the Ark so rich, but that
this king should also have fortified the city of Oviedo,
surrounding it with walls, and making for it a castle,
and building also the castle of Gauzon upon the
shore, for the defence and security of this holy trea-
sure and for another end, as he left written upon the
stone of which we have elsewhere spoken. Another
testimony of great authority, is the great reverence
which has been shown to this Holy Ark from the
time which is spoken of by Alonso the Great in the
inscription, to these our days. This is so great that
no one has dared to open it, melancholy examples
being related of some daring attempts which have
been made. That which occurred in our days is not
mournful, but rather of much devotion and holy joy.
The most Illustrious Sr. D. Christoval de Rojas y
 313
Sandoval, whois now the most worthy Archbishop of
Seville, when he was Bishop of Oviedo determined
to open the Holy Ark. For this, as the singular devo-
tion and most holy zeal for the glory of God which
he has in all things admonished him, he made such
pious preparations as the fame of so celestial a trea-
sure showed to be necessary. He proclaimed solemnly
a fast of forty days in his church and through all his
diocese, commanding that prayers should be made to
our Lord, beseeching him that he would be pleased
with what was intended, his Most-Illustriousness
giving the example, which is very common and very
edifying in his church, in himself, and in the minis-
ters thereof. Three days before the Sunday on which
the Ark was to be opened, he ordered all persons to
fast, and to make greater prayers with processions.
When the day arrived, he said pontifical mass, and
preached, infusing with his holy exhortations, much
of his own devout desires, into the hearts of the
hearers. The mass being finished, clad as he was, he
ascended to the Camara Santa, with much outward
solemnity, and with much fervour of devotion inter-
nally in his heart: and having there again renewed
his humble prayers to our Lord, and quickened the
ardour of that sacred desire which had influenced
him; on his knees as he was before the Holy Ark, he
took the key to open it. At the moment when he
stretched out his hand to put the key in the lock, sud-
denly he felt such horror and dismay, and found him-
selfso bereft ofall power (tan imposibilitado) to move
it in any way, that it was impossible for him to pro-
ceed, or do any thing but remain in that holy con-
sternation, without having strength or ability for
more. And as if he had come there to oppose and
prevent that which purposely, and with so much de-
sire and preparation he had intended to do, he desist-
ed from his intent, and gave it up, his whole holy
desire being turned into a chill of humble shrieking
and fear. Among other things which his most Illust-
rious Lordship relates of what he then felt, he says,
 314
that his hair stood up in such a manner and with such
force, that it seemed to him, as ifit lifted the mitre a
considerable way from his head. Now, we all know
that this famous prelate has vigour and persevering
courage for all the great things which he undertakes
in the service of our Lord; but in this manner the
Holy Ark remained unopened then, and thus I be-
lieve it will always remain, fastened more surely with
veneration and reverence, and with the respect of
these examples, than with the strong bolt of its lock.
"In the inscription of this Holy Ark, mention is
made ofthe relics of St. Baudilus, and by reason that
he is a Saint very little known, it will be proper to
say something of him. This Saint is much reverenced
in Salamanca and in Zamora, and in both cities he
has a parochial church, and in Zamora theyhave a good
part of his relics. They have so much corrupted the
name, calling him St. Boal, that the Saint is now
scarcely known by his own.
" They of the church say, that the cope of St.
Ildefonso , which Our Lady gave him, is in the Ark.
This maywellbe believed , since our good authors par-
ticularly relate that it was carried to Oviedo with the
Holy Ark, and with the other relics, and it does not
now appear among it, and there is much more reason
to think that it has been very carefully put away,
than that it has been lost. Also they say that when
the celestial cope was put into the Holy Ark, they
tookout ofit the piece ofthe Holy Sudario, in which
the head of our Redeemer was wrapt up for his in-
terment, as is said in the inscription ofthe Ark. This
is one of the most famous relics in all Christendom ,
and therefore it is most richly adorned , and reverent-
ly preserved, being shown only three times in the
year with the greatest solemnity. The box in which
it is kept is wrought without ofgold and azure, with
beautiful mouldings and pictures, and other orna-
ments of much authority. Within this there is a
square piece of wood, covered entirely with black
velvet, with silver handles , and other decorations of
 315
silyer round about; in the hollow of this square, the
Holy Sudario is stretched and fastened upon the velvet;
it is a thin linen cloth, three quarters long and half
a vara wide, and in many places full of the divine
blood from the head of our Redeemer, in diverse
forms and stains of various sizes; wherein some per-
sons observe marks of the divine countenance and
other particularities. I did not perceive this; but the
feeling which came upon me when I looked at it is
sufficient to make me believe any thing of it; and if
a wretch like me was thus affected, what must it do
to those who deserve of our Lord greater regalements
on such an occasion? It is exhibited to the people
three times in the year; on Good Friday, and on the
two festivals of the Cross in May and in September,
and there is then a great concourse from all the
country, and from distant parts. This part of the
cross of the church where the Camara Santa is, is
richly hung, and in the first apartment ofthe Camara,
a corredor is erected for this exhibition; the which is
closed that day with curtains of black velvet, and a
canopy that extends over the varandas. The Bishop
in his pontificals, with his assistants and other grave
persons, places himself behind the curtains with the
Holy Sudario, holding it by the silver handles, cover-
ed with a veil. The curtains are undrawn, and the
quiristers below immediately begin the miserere. The
Bishop lifts the veil, and at the sight ofthe Holy Su-
dario, another music begins of the voices of the peo-
ple, deeply affected with devotion, which verily pene,
trates all hearts. The Bishop stands some time, turning
the Sacred Relic to all sides, and afterwards the veil
being replaced, and the curtains redrawn, he replaces
the Holy Sudario in its box. With all these solemni-
ties, the very Illustrious and most Reverend Senor,
M. D. Gonzalo de Solorzano, Bishop of Oviedo, ex-
hibited this Holy Relic on the day of Santiago, in the
year of our Redeemer 1572, in order that I might
bear a more complete relation of the whole to the
King our Lord; I having at that time undertaken the
sacred journey by his command.-
 316
"Another chest with a covering of crimson and
brocade contains a good quantity of bones, and
some pieces of a head; which although they are
very damp, have a most sweet odour, and this all
we who were present perceived, when they were
shown me, and we spoke of it as of a notable and
marvellous thing. The account which they of the
church give of this holy body is, that it is that of St.
Serrano, without knowing any thing more of it. I,
considering the great dampness of the sacred bones,
believe certainly that it was brought up to the Ca-
mara Santa from the church of Leocadia, which, as
has been seen, is underneath it. And there in the
altar, the great stone-chest is empty, in which King
Alonso el Casto enclosed many relics, as the Bishop
Sampyro writes . For myself I have always held for
certain, that the body of St. Leocadia is that which
is in this rich chest. And in this opinion I am the
more confirmed since the year 1580, when such ex-
quisite diligence has been used by our Spaniards in
the monastery of St Gisleno, near Mons de Henao
in Flanders, to verify whether the body ofSt. Leoca-
dia, which they have there, is that of our Saint. The
result has been, that it was ascertained beyond all
doubt to be the same; since an authentic writing
was found of the person who carried it thither by
favour of one of our earliest kings, and he carried it
from Oviedo without dispute; because, according to
my researches, it is certain that it was there. Now I
affirm, that the king who gave part left part also;
and neither is that which is there so much that what
we saw at Oviedo might not well have been left,'
neither is this so much but that which is at Mons
might well have been given.
"In the church below, in a hollow made for this
purpose, with grates, and a gate well ornamented, is
one of the vessels which our Redeemer Jesus Christ
filled with miraculous wine at the marriage in Gali-
lee. It is ofwhite marble, ofan ancient fashion, more
than three feet high, and two wide at the mouth, and
 317
contains more than six arrobas. And forasmuch as it
is in the wall of the church of K. Alonso el Casto,
and all the work about it very ancient , it may be be
lieved that the said king ordered it to be placed
there."-Cornica General de Espana, L. 13. C. 40.
Morales gives an outline of this vessel in his Jour
nal, and observes that ifthe Christians transported it
by land, particular strength and the aid of God
would have been necessary to carry it so many
leagues, and move it over the rugged mountains of
Europa; but, he adds, it might have come by water
from Andalusia or Portugal, and in that case this
would have been a land journey of only four or five
leagues. In his Journal, Morales mentions certain
other relics of which the church of Oviedo boasted,
but for which he required better evidence than
could be adduced for them. Such were a portion of
Tobit's fish, and of Samson's honey-comb, with other
such things, which, he says, would lessen the credit
of the Ark, where, according to the Bishop of Ovie-
do, D. Pelayo, and Sebastian, Bishop of Salamanca,
they were deposited. Of these precious relics he says
nothing in his history, neither does he mention a
piece of Moses's rod, a large piece of St. Bartholo
mew's skin, and the sole of St. Peter's shoe, all
which he enumerates in his Journal, implying rather
than expressing his doubts of their authenticity. As
a scrupulous and faithful antiquary, Morales was ac-
customed to require evidence, and to investigate it;
and for these he could find no other testimony than
tradition and antiquity, which, as presumptive
proofs, were strong corroborants offaith, but did not
suffice ofthemselves. The Holy Ark has all the evi-
dence which he required, and the reverence with
which he regarded it, is curiously expressed in his
Journal. " I have now," he says, " described the ma-
terial part of the Camara Santa. The spiritual and
devout character which it derives from the sacred
treasures which it contains, and the feeling which is
experienced upon entering it, cannot be described
 318
without giving infinite thanks to our Lord, that he
has been pleased to suffer a wretch like me to enjoy
it. I write this in the church before the grating, and
God knows I am as it were beside myselfwith fear
and reverence, and I can only beseech God to give
me strength to proceed with that for which I have
no power myself."-T. 10. Viage, p. 91.
Morales, like Origen, had given in his youth a de-
cisive proofofthe sincerity of his religious feelings,
and it sometimes seems as if he had emasculated his
mind as well as his body. But with all this abject
superstition, he was a thoroughly pious and good
man. His life is deeply interesting, and his writings,
besides their great historical and antiquarian value,
derive additional interest from the picture of the
author's mind which they so frequently display. The
portrait prefixed to the last edition of his works is
singularly characteristic.pelik t
45 The proud array, ata t
-Which Leuvigild for after kings also gut
Left, ostentatious ofhis power?-XVIII. p. 132.
"Postremum bellum Suevis intulit, regnumque
eorum in jura gentis suæ mira celeritate transmisit.
Hispania magna ex parte potitus, nam antea gens
Gothorum angustis finibus arctabatur.-Fiscum quo-
que primus iste locupletavit, primusque ærarium de
rapinis civium, hostiumque manubiis auxit. Primus
que etiam inter suos regali veste opertus in solio resedit.
Nam ante eum et habitus et consessus communis, ut
populo, ita et regibus erat."-S. Isidor. Hist. Goth.-
Espana Sagrada, 6. 498-9.
49 The Sueve.-XVIII. p. 133.
As lateas the age of the Philips, the Portugueze
were called Sevosos by the Castillians, as an oppro-
brious name. Brito says, it was the old word Suevos
continued and corrupted, and used contemptuously,
because its origin was forgotten.- Monarchia Lusita
na, 2.6. 4.
 319
When the Suevi and Alani over-ran Spain they
laid siege to Lisbon, and the Saints Maxima, Julia,
and Verissimus (a most undoubted personage) being
Lisbonians, were applied to by their town's people to
deliver them. Accordingly, a sickness broke out in
the besieger's camp, and they agreed to depart upon
payment of a sum of money. Bernardo de Brito
complains that Blondus and Sabellicus, in their
account of this transaction, have been so careless as
to mention the money, and omit the invocation of
the Saints.- M. Lus. 2. 5. 23.
Lord of Hosts, &c.-XVIII. p. 135. 50
The substance of these prayers will be found in
the forms of coronation observed by the Anglo-Sax-
ons, and in the early ages ofthe French monarchy. I
am indebted for them to Turner's most valuable His-
tory ofthe Anglo-Saxons, and to Mr. Linguard's An-
tiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church, a work not
more full oferudition than it is of Catholic sophistry
and misrepresentation.
Roderick brought 57
The buckler.- XVIII. p. 135.
Toman, diziendo aquesto, un ancho escudo
El Duque y Conde y hombres principales,
De pics encima el Principe membrudo
Lo levantan assi del suelo iguales:
Y alçarlo enpeso, quanto alçar sepudo
De alçarlopor su Reyfueron senales,
Real, Real, Real, diziendo todos,
Segun costumbre antigua de los Godos.
Ch. de Messa. Restauracion de Espana, L. 4. ff. 54.
Rejoice, 5 m
O Leon,for thy banner is displayed.-XVIII. p. 136.
"La primera ciudad que gano dizen fue Leon, y
desde alli se llamo Rey de Leon, y tomo por armas un
Leon roxo en campo blanco, dexando las antiguas ar-
 320
mas de los Godos, que eran un Leon bermejo rapante,
en campo azul, buelta la cara atras, sobre tres ondas
blancas y azules."-Fran. de Pisa. Desc. de Toledo,
L. 3. C. 2.
Fuela del quinto globo roxa estrella
rayo de su valor, voz de sufama,
y Leon de su escudo y luzimiento,
heredado blason, Signo sangriento.
Coro de las Musas, p. 102.
"Les anciennes armes estoient parlantes, comme
l'on void en celles des Comtes de Castille, et des Rois de
Leon, qui prindrent des Chasteaux et des Lions, pour
signifier les noms vulgaires des Provinces, par le bla
son de leurs armes; qui ne se rapportent pas à l'an-
cienne denomination de Castulo et de Legio, chés
Pline."-Pierre de Marca. Hist. de Bearn, L. 1. C.
12.§ 11.
" The Lion's grinders are, relevées de trois pointes
un peu creusées dans leur centre, dans lesquelles les
speculatifs croyent voir lafigure d'unefleur de lys. Je
n'aygarde de dire le contraire," says P. Labat, " il est
permis a bien desgens de voir dans les nues et dans les
charbons ardens tout ce qu'il plait à leur imagination
de s'y representer; pourquoy ne sera-t-il pas libre de
voir sur les dents du Lion la figure des fleurs de lys?
Je doute que les Espagnols en conviennent, eux qui
prennent le Lion pour les armes et le symbole de leur
marqueque car
monarchie; ar on pourroit leur dire que c'est une
sans le secours de la France, leur Lion ne
seroit pas fort a craindre." -Afrique Occidentale, T.
2. p. 14.
53 AndTagus bends his sickle round the scene
OfRoderick'sfall.- XVIII. p. 137.
There is a place at Toledo called la Alcurnia.
"El nombre de Alcurnia es Arabigo, que es dezir cosa
de cuerno, o enformade cuerno, lo que los Christianos
llamavanfoz, ohoz de Tajo. Llamase assi porquedesde
que este riopassa por debaxo de lapuente de Alcantara,
 321
va haziendo una buelta y torcedura, que en unaescri
tura antigua se llama hoz de Tajo. Lo mesmo acontecio
a Arlança cerca de Lara, de donde se llamo la hoz de
Lara, como lo nota Ambrosio de Morales; y en el Rey
node Toledo ay la hoz de Jucar. "-Franscisco de Pisa
Desc. de Toledo, L. 1. C. 14.
Amid our deserts we hunt down the birds 54
Ofheaven,.. wings do not save them!-XX. p. 150.
The Moors have a peculiar manner ofhunting the
partridge. In the plains of Akkermute and Jibbel
Hedded in Shedma, they take various kinds of dogs
with them, from the grey-hound to the shepherd's
dog, and followingthe birds on horseback, and allow.
ing them no time to rest, they soon fatigue them,
when they are taken by the dogs. But as the Moosel-
min eats nothing but what has had its throat cut,
he takes out his knife, and exclaiming Bismillah, in
the name of God, cuts the throat of the game.-
Jackson's Marocco, p. 121.

A hastygrave, scarce hidden therefrom dogs 53

Andravens, norfrom wintry rainssecure.—
XXII. P. 164.
In composing these lines I remembered a far more
beautiful passage in one of the Eclogues of the Je-
suit Bussieres :-

Artesius ruit ecce furens,finesquepropinquos

Insultans, stragem agricolisfugientibus infert.
Quid facerem? matrem, ut potui, tenerumque
puellum
Raptabam, et mediis abdebam corpora silvis.
Asperajamfrigebat hyems,frondosaque quercus
Pro tecto et latebris ramos præbebat opacos;
Algentemfovi matrem;fovet illa rigentem
Infantem gremio. Sub prima crepuscula lucis
Progredior, tectum miseris sifortepateret;
Silvam fusus eques telis infensus habebat;
Bonafugio, et capio compendia tuta viarum.
02
 322
Conditur atra dies; cælo nox horrida surgit.
Quam longis mihi nox miseroproducitur horis!
Quosgemitusfletusque dedi: quamproxima votum
Luxfuit! heu tristi lux infensissima clade!
Currebam ad notam quercum per devia tesqua,
Dux amor est. Annam video, puerumquejacentem
Affixum uberibus, duræ succumbere morti.
Ipsaparens, postquam ad vocem conversa vocantis
In me amplexantem morientia luminafixit,
Eluctantem animam glaciato e corpore mittit.
Obrigui,frigusque novum penetravit in ossa:
Felix, si simili potuissem occumbere letho;
Sors infesta vetat. Restabat cura sepulchri
Quofoderemferrum deerat; miserabile corpus
Frondibus obtexi, puerum nec ab ubere vulsi
Sicut erat foliis tegitur;funusqueparatur,
Heu nimis incertum, et primis violabile ventis.
56 The white signal f-lag.-XXIII. p. 171.
A white flag, called El Alem, the signal, is hoisted
everyday at twelve o'clock, to warn the people out
ofhearing, or at a great distance, to prepare, by the
necessary preliminary ablutions, to prostrate them-
selves before God at the service of prayer.-Jackson's
Marocco, p. 149.
The Humma's happy wings have shadowed him.-
57 XXIII. p. 172.
The humma is a fabulous bird: The head over
which its shadow once passes will assuredly be eneir.
cled with a crown.-Wilkes, S. ofIndia, v. i. p. 423.

58 Life hath not left his body.-XXIII. p. 175.

Among the Prerogatives et Propriétés singuliéres
lu Prophète, Gagnier states, that " Il est vivant dans
son Tombeau. Il fait la prière dans ce Tombeau a
chaquefois que le Crieur enfait la proclamation, et au
mêmetems qu'on la recite. Il y a un Ange posté surson
Tombeau qui a le soin de lui donner avis des Priéres
que les Fidélesfont pour lui."-Vie de Mahomet, L. 7.
C. 18.
 323
The common notion, that the Impostor's tomb is
suspended by means of a loadstone, is well known.
Labat, in his Afrique Occidentale (T. 3. p. 143.)
mentions the lie of a Marabout, who, on his return
from a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, affirmed,
"quele tombeau de Mahomet etoit porté en l'airpar le
moyen de certains Anges qui se relayent d'heure en
heures pour soutenir cefardeau." These fables, how-
ever, are modest in comparison with those which the
Franciscans have invented to magnify their founder.
Hast thou not heard
How when our clay is leaven'd first with life,
The ministeri ng Angel brings it from that spot
Whereon 'tis written in the eternal book,
That soul and body musttheir partingtake,
And earthto earth return?-XXIII. p. 175.
The Persians in their creed have a pleasant imagi-
nation concerning the death of men. They say, that
every one must come and die in the place where the
Angel took the earth of which he hath been made,
thinking that one of these spirits has the care of
forming the human creature, which he doth by min.
gling a little earth with the seed.-Thevenot.
They perish, all their thousands perish there.- 60
XXIII. p. 178.
The battle of Covadonga is one of the great mira-
cles of Spanish history. It was asserted for many cen-
turies without contradiction, and is still believed by
the people, that when the Moors attacked Pelayo in
the cave, their weapons were turned back upon
themselves; that the Virgin Mary appeared in the
clouds, and that part of a mountain fell upon the
Infidels, and crushed those who were flying from the
destruction. In what manner that destruction might
have been effected, was exemplified upon a smaller
scale in the Tyrol in the memorable war of 1809.
Barrett sums up the story briefly, and in the true
strain of Mine Ancient.
 324
The Sarr'cen hearing that th' Asturianites
Had king created, and stood on their guard,
Sends multitudes ofMahometized knights
To rouse them out their rocks, and force their
ward.
Pelagius, hearing of this enterprize,
Prepares his petty power on Auseve mount;
Alcameh comes with Zarzen multiplies,
Meaning Pelagius' forces to dismount.
To blows they come: but lo! a stroke divine.
The Iber, few, beats numbrous Sarracene,
Two myriads with Mahome went to dine
In Parca's park.
61 The Bread ofLife.-XXIV. p. 184.
It is now admitted by the best informed of the
Romish writers themselves, that, for a thousand years,
no other but common or leavened bread was used in
the Eucharist. The wafer was introduced about the
eleventh century. And as far down as the twelfth
century, the people were admitted to communicate
in both kinds.

62 Andlet no shame be offered his remains.-

XXV. p. 188.
According to the Comendador Fernan Nunez, in
his Commentary upon the Trezientas, the tomb of
Count Julian was shown in his days about four
leagues from Huesca at a castle called Loarri, on the
outside of a church which was in the castle.
63 His wonted leathern gipion.- XXV. P. 191.
The Musical Pilgrim in Purchas thus describes the
Leonese:-
Wymmen in that land use no vullen,
But alle in lether be the wounden:
And her hevedez wonderly ben trust,
Standing in her forhoved as a crest,
 325.
In rould clouthez lappet alle be forn
Like to the prikke ofa N'unicorn.
And men have doubelettez full schert,
Bare legget and light to stert.- P. 1231.
Purchas supposes this very curious poem to have
been written about 200 years before he published it,
i. e. about 1425. It is probably much older. In enter-
ing Castille from Elvas, the author says,
Now in to Castell schall we faire
Over the river, the land is bare.
Full ofheath and hunger also,
And Sarasynez Governouriz thereto.
Now Badajoz and that part of the country was
finally recovered from the Moors in the early part of
the thirteenth century. Purchas perhaps judged
from the age of the manuscript, which may have
been written about the time on which he fixes, and
the language modernised by the transcriber.
The light which o'er the fields of Bethlehem shone, by
Irradiated whole Spain.-XXX. p. 192.
"Fallamos en las estorias que aquella ora que nuestro
SenorJesu Christo nascio, seyendo media noche, apares-
çio una nuve sobre Espana que dio tan gran claridad,
e tan gran resplandor, e tan gran calor, como el sol en
medio del dia quando va mas apoderado sobre latierra.
E departen los sabios e dizen que se entiende por aquel-
la que despues de Jesu Christo vernie su mandadero a
Espana a predicar a los gentiles la çeguedad en que
estavan, e que los alumbrarie con la fee de Jesu Chrys-
to, e aquestefue San Pablo. Otros departen que en Es-
pana avie de nascer un principe chrystiano que serie
senor de todo el mundo, e valdarie mas por el todo el
linaje de los omes, bien como esclaresçio toda la tierra
por la claridad de aquella nuve en quanto ella duro."
-Coronica General. ff. 71.
A more extraodinary example of the divine favour
towards Spain is triumphantly brought forward by
 326
Francisco de Pisa. " Our Lord God," says he, "has
been pleased to preserve these kingdoms in the purity
of the Faith, like a terrestrial Paradise, by means of
the Cherubim ofthe Holy Office, which with its sword
offire has defended the entrance, through the merits
and patronage of the serenest Virgin Mary the
Mother of God." " Ha sido servido nuestro Senor Dios
conservar estos reynos de Espana en la entereza de la
Fe, como a un Parayso terrenal, mediante el Cherubin
del Santo Officio, que con su espada de fuego les ha de-
fendido la entrada por los meritos y patrocinio dela
serenissima Virgen Maria Madre de Dios."-Desc. de
Toledo, L. 1. C, 25,
This passage is truly and lamentably characteristic.
65
The Oaken Cross.-XXV. p. 194.
The oaken cross, which Pelayo bore in battle, is
said to have been preserved at Oviedo in the Camara
Santa, in company with that which the Angels made
for Alfonso the Great, concerning which Morales de-
livers a careful opinion, how much ofit was made by
the Angels, and how much has been human work-
manship. The people of Cangas, not willing that
Pelayo's cross should be in any thing inferior to his
successor's, insist that it fell from Heaven. Morales,
however, says, it is more certain that the king had it
made to go out with it to battle at Covadonga. It was
covered with gold and enamel in the year 908; when
Morales wrote, it was in fine preservation, and doubt-
less so continued till the present generation. Upon
the top branch of the cross there was this inscription:
"Susceptum placide maneat hoc in honore , Dei, quod
offeruntfamuli Christi Adefonsus Princeps et Scemena.
Regina. On the right arm, Quisquis auferre hæc don-
aria nostra presumpserit, fulmine divino intereat ipse.
On the left, Hoc opus perfectum est, concessum est
Sancto Salvatori Ovetensis Sedis. Hoc signo tueturpius,
hoc signo vincitur inimicus. On the foot, Et operatum
est in Castello Gauzon anno Regni nostri XVII discur
rente Era DCCCCXLVI.
 327
" There is no other testimony," says Morales, " that
this is the cross of King Don Pelayo, than tradition
handed down from one age to another. I wish the
king had stated that it was so in his inscription, and I
even think he would not have been silent upon this
point, unless he had wished to imitate Alonso el Cas-
to, who, in like manner, says nothing concerning the
Angels upon his cross." This passage is very charac-
teristic ofgood old Ambrosio.
Like a mirror sparkling to the sun.- XXV. p. 199. 66
The Damascus blades are so highly polished, that
when any one wants to arrange his turban, he uses
his scymetar for a looking-glass.-Le Brocquiere;
p. 138.
Whofrom their thirsty sands, 67
Pray that the locusts on the peopledplain
May settle andprepare their way.- XXV. p. 201.
The Sharawans, or Arabs of the Desert, rejoice to
seethe clouds of locusts proceeding towards the north,
anticipating therefrom a general mortality, which
they call el-khere, the good, or the benediction ; for,
after depopulating the rich plains of, Barbary, it af
fords to them an opportunity of emanating from
theirarid recesses in the desert, to pitch their tents in
the desolated plains, or along the banks of some river.
-Jackson's Marocco, p. 106.
Oh who could tell what deeds were wrought that day, 68
Or who endure to hear.-XXV. p. 200.
I have nowhere seen a more curious description of
a battle between Christians and Saracens than in
Barrett's manuscript:-
The forlorn Christian troops Moon'd troops encharge,
The Mooned troops requite them with the ike;
Whilst Grecian lance cracks (thundering) Parthian
targe,
Parth's flame-flash arrow Grecian thro' doth prick:
 328
And whilst that Median seymetar unlimbs
The Christian knight, doth Christian curtle-axe
Unhead the Median horseman; whilst here dims
The Pagan's goggling-eyes by Greekish axe,
The Greek unhorsed lies by Persian push,
And both all rageful grapple on the ground.
And whilst the Saracen with furious rush
The Syrian shocks, the Syrian as round
Down shouldreth Saracen: whilst Babel blade
Sends soul Byzantine to the starred cell,
Byzantine pike with like-employed trade,
Packs Babel's spirit posting down to hell.
69 But where was he whose hand
Had wielded it so well that glorious day?—
XXV. p. 202.
The account which the Fabulous Chronicle gives
of Roderick after his disappearance, is in so singular
a strain offiction, that I have been tempted to trans
late it. It strikingly exemplifies the doctrine of pen-
ance, of which monastic history supplies many in-
stances almost as extraordinary as this fable.

Chapter 238.- How the King Don Rodrigo left the bat-
tle and arrived at a hermitage, and of that which be-
fell him.
"Now when the King Don Rodrigo had escaped
from the battle, he began to go as fast as he could
upon his horse along the banks ofthe Guadalete, and
night came on, and the horse began to fail by reason
of the many wounds which he had received; and as
he went thus by the river side deploring the great
ruin which had come upon him, he knew not where
he was, and the horse got into a quagmire, and when
he was in he could not get out. And when the king
saw this he alighted, and stript off all his rich arms
and the furniture thereof, and took off his crown
from his head, and threw them all into the quag-
nire, saying, of earth was I made, and even so are
 329
all my deeds like unto mud and mire. Therefore my
pomp and vanity shall be buried in this mud, till it
has all returned again to earth, as I myself must do.
And the vile end which I have deserved will beseem
me well, seeing that I have been the principal cause
of this great cruelty. And as he thus stript off all bis
rich apparel, he cast the shoes from his feet, and
went his way, and wandered on towards Portugal;
and he travelled so far that night and the day follow-
ing, that he came to a hermitage near the sea, where
there was a good man who had dwelt there serving
Godforfull forty years; and now he was ofgreat age,
for he was well nigh a hundred years old. And he
entered into the hermitage, and found a crucifix
therein, being the image of our Lord Jesus Christ,
even as he was crucified, and for the remembrance
of Him, he bent both his knees to the ground, and
claspt his hands, weeping and confessing his sins be-
fore God, for he weened not that any man in the
world saw or heard him. And he said thus, O true
Lord, who by thy word hast made all the world from
nothing which it was, and hast created all things,
those which are visible to men, and those which are
invisible, the heavenly as well as the earthly, and
who didst incarnate thyself that thou mightest un-
dergo thy passion and death, to save those who
firmly put their trust in thee, giving up thy holy
ghost from thy glorified body upon the tree of the
true cross, and who didst descend into Hell, and
deliveredst thy friends from thence, and didst regale
them with the glory of Heaven: And afterward thy
holy spirit came again into that most holy body,
which thou wast pleased to take upon thee in this
world; and, manifesting thyself for the true God
which thou wert, thou didst deign to abide in this
dark world forty days with their nights, and then
thou didst ascend into the heavenly glory, and didst
enlighten with the grace of the Holy Ghost thy be
loved disciples. I beseech thee, O Lord, that thou
wouldst enlighten me a king in tribulation, wretched,
 330

and full of many sins, and deserving all evils; let not
the soul which is thine, and which cost thee so dear,
receive the evil and the desert of this abominable
flesh; and may it please thee, O Lord, after the down-
fall, destruction, perdition, and desolation, which I, a
miserable king, have suffered in this world, that my
disconsolate soul may not be forgotten by thee, and
that all this misery may be in satisfaction for my er-
rors. And I earnestly beseech thee, O Lord, that thy
grace may breathe upon me, that in this world I may
make satisfaction for my sins, so that at the Great
Day of Judgment I may not be condemned to the
torments of hell.
' Having said these words, weeping as though he
would burst, he remained there a long hour. And
when the Hermit heard him say all this, he was
greatly astonished, and he went unto him. And when
the king saw him he was little pleased; howbeit after
he had talked with him, he would rather have found
him there than have been restored again to the
great honour which he had lost; for the Hermit com-
forted him in such wise in this his tribulation, that he
was right well contented; and he confessed unto him,
and told him all that concerned him. And the Her-
mit said to him, King, thou shalt remain in this her
mitage, which is a remote place, and where thou
mayest lead thy life, as long as it shall please God.
And for me, on the third day from hence I shall pass
away out of this world; and thou shalt bury me, and
thou shalt take my garments, and fulfil the time of
a year in this hermitage. Take no thought as to
provision for thy support, for every Friday thou
shalt have it after the same manner as I, and thou
shalt so husband it, that it may suffice thee for the
whole week: That flesh which hath been fostered in
great delight shall suffer abstinence, lest it should
grow proud, and thou shalt endure hunger and cold
and thirst in the love of our Lord, that he may have
compassion upon thee. Thy station till the hour of
sleep must always be upon that rock, where there is
 331
an oratory facing the east; and thou shalt continue
the service of God in such manner as God will direct
thee to do. And take heed that thy soul fall not into
temptation. And since thou hast spoken this day of
penitence, to-morrow thou shalt communicate and
receive the true body of our Lord Jesus Christ, who
will be thy protection and support against the ene-
my and the persecutor. And put thou thy firm trust
in the sign of the Cross; and thou shalt please thy
Saviour.
"Many other things the holy Hermit said, which
made the King right joyful to hear them; and there
they continued till it was the hour for sleep. And
the holy Hermit showed him his bed, and said, When
I shall have left thy company, thou wilt follow the
ways which I have followed, for which our Lord will
have mercy upon thee, and will extend his hand
over thee, that thou mayest persevere in good, and
in his holy service. And then they laid down and
slept till it was the hour ofmatins, when they should
both arise. And the Hermit awoke him, for as the
King had not slept for a long time, and was more
over full weary, he would not have awaked so soon,
ifthe Hermit had not roused him; and they said their
hours. And when it was time the Hermit said mass,
and the King heard it with great devotion, and com-
municated with great contrition, and remained in
prayer forthe space of two hours. And the hour for
taking food came, and the Hermit took a loaf which
was made of pannick and of rye, and gave half
thereof to the King, and took for himself the other
half: And they ate little of it, as men who could not
eat more, the one by reason of age, and the other
because he was not used to such fare. And thus they
continued till the third day, when the holy Hermit
departed this life."

wly oneda
 332

Ch. 239.-How the Hermit died, andthe Kingfound

a writing in hishand.
"On the third day, the pious Hermit expired at the
same hour which he had said to the King, whereat
the king was full sorrowful, as one who took great
consolation in the lessons which he gave. And when
he had thus deceased, the King by himself with his
hands, and with an oaken stick which was there,
made his grave. And when he was about to bury
him, he found a writing in his hand; and he took it
and opened it, and found that it contained these
words.

Ch. 240.- Ofthe rule of life which the Hermit left

writtenfor King Don Rodrigo.
"O King, who through thy sins hast lost the great
honour in which thou wert placed, take heed that
thy soul also come not into the same judgment which
hath fallen upon thy flesh. And receive into thy
heart the instructions that I shall give thee now,
and see that thou swerve not from them, nor abatest
them a jot; for ifthou observest them not, or depart
est in aught from them, thou wilt bring damnation
upon thy soul; for all that thou shalt find in this
writing is given thee for penance, and thou must
learn with great contrition of repentance, and with
humbleness of patience, to be content with that
which God hath given thee to suffer in this world.
And that thou mayest not be deceived in case any
company should come unto thee, mark and observe
this and pass in it thy life. Thou shalt arise two
hours after midnight, and say thy matins within the
hermitage. When the day breaks thou shalt go tothe
oratory, and kneeling upon the ground, say the whole
hours by the breviary, and when thou hast finished
them thou shalt say certain prayers of our Lord,
which thou wilt find there. And whenthouhast done
 333

this, contemplate then upon the great power of our

Lord, and upon his mercy; and also upon the most
holy passion whichhe suffered for mankind upon the
cross, being himself very God, and maker of al
things; and how with great humility he chose to be
incarnate in a poor virgin, and not to come as a king,
but as a mediator among the nations. And contem-
plate also upon the poor life which he always led in
this world, to give us an example; and that he will
come at the day of judgment to judge the quick and
the dead, and give to every one the meed which he
hath deserved. Then shalt thou give sustenance to
thy flesh of that bread of pannick and rye, which
shall be brought to thee every Friday in the manner
that I have said; and of other food thou shalt not eat,
although it should be given or sent thee; neither
shalt thou change thy bread. And when thou hast
eaten give thanks to God, because he has let thee
come to repentance; and then thou shalt go to the
oratory, and there give praise to the Virgin our Lady
holy Mary, mother of God, in such manner as shall
come to thee in devotion. Ifwhen thou hast finished,
heaviness should come upon thee, thou mayest sleep,
and when thou shalt have rested as long as is reason-
able, return thou to thy oratory, and remain there,
making thy prayers always upon thy knees, and for
nothing which may befall thee depart thou from -
thence, till thou hast made an end of thy prayers,
whether it rain or snow, or if a tempest should blow.
And forasmuch as the flesh could sustain so many
mundane pleasures, so must it suffer also celestial
abstinences; two masses thou hast heard in this her-
mitage, and in it it is God's will that thou shalt hear
no more, for more would not be to his service. And
ifthou observest these things, God will have compas
sion upon thy deserts. And when the King had read
this, he laid it upon the altar in a place where it
would be well preserved."
 334

Ch. 241.- How the Devil came in theform ofa Hermit

todeceivethe King Don Rodrigo.
"Now when the king had made a grave in which
to bury the Hermit, the Devil was troubled at the
good course which the King had taken, and he cast
about for means how he might deceive him; and he
found none so certain as to come to him in the
figure of a hermit, and keep company with him to
turn him aside from those doctrines which the Her-
mit had given him, that he might not fulfil his peni
tence. And the King being in great haste to burythe
body, the Devil came to him witha long white beard ,
and a great hood over the eyes, and some paternos-
ters hanging from his girdle, and supporting himself
upon a staff as though he were lame, and could not
go. And when he came where the King was he hum-
bled himself and said unto him, Peace be with thee!
And the King turned toward that side from whichhe
came, and when he saw him of so great age, he
thought that it was some holy man who knew ofthe
death ofthe Hermit, and was come to bury him; and
he humbled himself, and went toward him to kiss his
hand, and the Devil would not, saying, It is not fit
ting that a King should kiss the hand of a poor ser
vant of God. And the King was astonished at hearing
himselfnamed, and believed that this must needs be
a man of holy life, and that he spake by some reve-
lation; nevertheless he said, I am not a king, but a
miserable sinner, for whom it had been better never
to have been born, than that so much evil should
have happened through me. And the false Hermit
said to him, Think not that thou hast so much fault
as thou imaginest in what has now been done, for
even if thou hadst had no part in it, this destruction.
would have fallen at this time. And since it was or
dained that it should be so, the fault is not thine;
some fault thou hadst, but it was very little. And
think not that I speak this of myself; for my words
 335

are those of a spirit made and created by the will of

God, who speaks through me this and many other
things, which hereafter thou shalt know, that thou
mayest see how God has given me power that I
should know all thy concerns, and counsel thee in
what manner thou shouldst live. And albeit I have
more need of rest than of labour by reason of my
age, which is far greater than my countenance shows;
yet I have disposed myself to labour for the love of
thee, to console thee in this thy persecution, know-
ing that this good man was about to die. Of a truth
you may believe that on this day month I was in
Rome, being there in the church of St. John de La-
teran, out of which I had never gone for thirty
years, till I came now to keep thee company accord-
ing as I am eommanded. Marvel not that a man of
so great age and crippled as I am, should have been
able to traverse so much land in so short a time,for
certes I tell thee that he who speaks in this form
which thou seest, has given me strength to go through
so great a journey; and sans doubt I feel myself as
strong now as on the day when I set forth. And the
King said to him, Friend of God, I rejoice muchin
thy coming, for that in my misfortunes I shall be by
thee consoled and instructed in that which must be
done to fulfil my penitence; I rejoice also that this
holy Hermit here shall receive burial from the hands
of a man much more righteous than I. And the false
Hermit said, Think not, King, that it is for the ser-
vice of God to give to any person a name not apper-
taining to him. And this I say because I well know
the life of this person, what it was; and as thou
knowest nothing of celestials, thou thinkest that as
the tongue speaketh, even such is the heart. But I
tell thee the habit doth not make the monk, and it is
from such persons as these that the saying arose
which is common in the world , I would have jus
tice, but not for my own house. This I say to thee,
because he commanded thee to perform a penance
such as never man did, the which is, that thou
 336

shouldst eat only once a day, and that of such bread

that even the shepherds' dogs would not eat it; and
of this that thou shouldst not eat as much as thou
couldst; and appointed thee the term of a year that
thou shouldst continue in thisdiet. Also he command-
ed thee that thou shouldst not hear mass during the
time that thou abidest here; for that the two masses
which thou hast heard should suffice; look now if that
doctrine be good, which bids a man forget the holy
sacrament! Certes I tell that only for that which he
commanded thee to observe, his soul is consigned to
a place, where I would not that thine should go for
all the world, if it were in my power, with all its
riches. Nevertheless to be rid of the ill smell which
he would give, it is fit that you should bury him, and
while you do this I will go for food. And the King
said, Friend of God, do not take this trouble, but re-
main still, and before noon there will come food
which will suffice for you and for me; help me now
to give burial to this good man, which will be much
for the service of God, although he may have been a
sinner. And the false Hermit answered, King, it
would be less evil to roll him over these rocks into
the sea; but if not, let him lie thus upon the earth
till the birds and the beasts devour his flesh. And the
King marvelled at this; nevertheless though he be
lieved that this false Hermit was a servant of God,
he left not for that to bury the good Hermit who
there lay without life, and he began by himself to
carry him to the grave which he had made. And as
he was employed in burying him, he saw that the
false Hermit went away over the mountains at a
great rate, not as one who was a cripple, but like a
stout man and a young; and he marvelled- what this
might mean.
 337

Ch. 242.-How King Don Rodrigo informed himself

concerning the penance which he was to perform,
from the writing which the holy Hermit left him.
"When the King had finished burying the good
servant of God, he went to the altar, and took the
writing in his hand, and read it to inform himself
well ofit. And when he had read it, he saw that ofa
certainty all that was said therein was for the service
of God, and was of good doctrine for his soul; and
he said, that, according to the greatness of his sins, it
behoved that his penitence must be severe, if he
wished to save his soul. And then he called to mind
the life which St. Mary Magdalene endured, for
which God had mercy on her. And forthwith he went
to his oratory, and began his prayers; and he remain.
ed there till it was near noon; and he knew that he
had nothing to eat, and awaited till it should be
brought him.
Ch. 243.- How the Devil brought meat to King Don
Rodrigo that he should eat it; and he would only eat
ofthe Hermit's bread.
"After it was mid-day the false Hermit came with
a basket upon his shoulders, and went straight to
where the King was, and he came sweating and
weary. And the King had compassion on him, how-
beit he said nothing, neither did he leave his prayers.
And the false Hermit said to him, King, make an end
to thy prayers, for it is time to eat; and here I bring
food. And the King lifted up his eyes and looked
toward him, and he saw that there came into the
hermitage a shepherd with a wallet upon his back,
and he thought this must be he who brought him
that which he was to eat. And so in truth it was, that
that shepherd brought every Friday four loaves of
pannick and rye for the holy Hermit, upon which he
lived during the week. And as this shepherd knew
P
 338
not that the good man was dead, he did no more than
put his bread upon the altar and go his way. And
the King when he had ceased praying, rose up from
the oratory, and went to the false Hermit. And he
found the four loaves, and he took one, and brake it
in the middle, and laid by the rest carefully, and he
went out of the hermitage into the portal, where
there was a table full small, and he laid a cloth upon
it, and the bread which he was to eat, and the water;
and he began to bless the table, and then seated
himself. And the false Hermit noted well how he
blest the table, and arose from where he was, and
went to the King, and said, King, take of this poor
fare which I have brought, and which has been given
me in alms. And he took out two loaves which were
full white, and a roasted partridge, and a fowl, of
which the legs were wanting; and he placed it upon
the table. And when the King saw it, his eyes were
filled with tears, for he could not but call to mind
his great honour in former times, and howit was now
fallen, and that his table had never before been
served like this. And he said, addressing himself to
the Lord, Praised be thy name, thouwho canst make
the high low, and the low nothing. And he turned to
his bread and did eat thereof. And though he had
great hunger, yet could he scarcely eat thereof, for
he had never used it till in that hermitage, and now
it seemed worse by reason of the white bread which
that false Hermit had brought. And the false Hermit,
who saw that he gave no regard neither to the bread,
nor the meat which he had brought, said to the
King, Why eatest thou not of this which God has
m itae And the King said, I came not to this her
sent
to serve God, but to do penance for my sins,
that my soul may not be lost. And the penance which
is given me in this life, I must observe for a year,
and not depart from it, lest it should prove to my
great hurt. And the false Hermit said, How, King,
hath it been given thee for penance, that thou
shouldst let thyselfdie for despair? The Gospel com-
 339
mands not so; contrariwise, it forbids man to do any
such penance through which the body might be
brought to death; for if in killing another, he who
causes the death is held for a murderer, much more is
he who killeth himself; and such thou wouldst be.
And nowthrough despair thou wouldest let thyselfdie
of hunger, that thou mightest no longer live in this
world, wherefore I say eat of this food that I have
brought thee some little, that thou mayest not die. And
with that he began to eat right heartily. And the King,
when he beheld him, was seized with affection to do
the like, howbeit he was withheld, and would eat
nothing thereof. And as it was time when he would
drink of the water, the false Hermit said to him, that
he should drink of the wine; and the King would
only taste ofthat water; and as he went to take ofit,
the false Hermit struggled with him,but he could not
prevail, and the King did according to his rule, and
departed not from it. And when he had eaten, he
began to give thanks to God. And the false Hermit
who saw that he would have to cross himself at aris-
ing from the table, rose up before him, as one who
was about to do something; and the King heeded it
not. And when he had thus eaten, he went to the
oratory, and began to give praises to the Virgin Ma
ry, according as the good man had commanded him;
when that traitor went to him and said, Certes this
doctrine which thou holdest is no way to serve God,
for sans doubt when the stomach is heated with food
the will shall have no power to pray asit oughts and
although the tongue may say the prayers, the heart
confirms them not, being hindered by the force
which nature derives from the food. Therefore I say
to thee that thou oughtest to sleep first; for whilst
thou art sleeping the food will settle, and the will
will then be more able for contemplation. Moreover,
God is not pleased with prayers without contrition,
as with one who speaketh of one thing, and hath his
heart placed on another, so that he can give no faith
to the words which he beginneth. If thou wouldest
 340
be saved, O King, it behoves thee to listen to me;
and if thou wilt not believe me I will depart and
leave thee, as one who will take no counsel, except
from himself. And the King replied, If I should see
that thou confirmedst the good manner of life where-
of my soul hath need, according asit was appointed
bythe good man whom I have buried, then would
I follow thy way. But I see that thy life is not that
of a man of abstinence, nor of one who forsakes
worldly enjoyments for the love of God; rather it
seémeth by what I see in thee that thy life is a
strengthening of worldly glory; for thou satisfiest thy
flesh with good viands as I was wont to do, when I
was puffed up with the vanities ofthe world. Where-
fore I will in no wise follow thy way, for I see that
thou art a worldly man, who deceivest God and the
world; and when it comes to the end, thou thyself
wilt be deceived.

Ch. 244.- Of- what the Devil said to King Don Red
rigo to dispart himfrom hispenance,
"The false Hermit said to him, For what reason
art thou certainin that the rule which this deceiver
whom thou hast buried appointed for thee, will be
salvation for thy soul, and that what I say to thee is.
not of a truth? Thou understandest me not well: I
never forbade thee that thou shouldst hear mass, as
he has done; for this is one of the good things that
man may every day see his Saviour and adore him.
And seeing that he forbade thee to do this, thou
mayest be certain that as he deceived his own soul,
he would deceive thine also. For at the hour when
man passeth away out of the world, he would fain
that that same hour should be the end of all the
world; and thus that enemy did, for where he went,
thither he would draw thee also. Now since God
hath given thee sense and reason, thou mayst clearly
understand that his counsel and doctrine are deceit.
ful, and what thou oughtest to do..
 341

Ch. 245.-Ofthe Reply which the King madetothe

Devil.
"Sans doubt, said the King, he forbade me not that
I should hear mass; but because he commanded me
that I should fulfil my penance here for the term of
a year, as he knew the hour of his own death, so also
he knew that no other person who could say mass
would come to this hermitage within the year; and
therefore he said to me, that in this hermitage I
should not hear mass, but he never forbade me from
hearing it.
Ch. 246.-Ofthe Reasoning which the false Hermit
made to King Don Rodrigo.
"The false Hermit said, Now thou thyself mani-
festest that he was not so worthy as a man ought to
be who knows that which is to come. For accordingto
thy words, he knew not that I should come here,
who can say mass if I please; and if there be good
judgment in thee, thou wilt understand that I must
needs be nearer to God, because I know all which
he had commanded thee to do, and also how he was
to die. And I can know better in what place he is,
than he who has commanded thee to observe this
rule, knew concerning himself while he was here.
But this I tell thee, that as I came to teach thee the
way in which thou shouldst live, and thou wilt not
follow my directions, I shall return as I came. And
now I marvel not at any thing which has befallen
thee, for thou hast a right stubborn heart; hard and
painful wilt thou find the way of thy salvation, and
in vain wilt thou do all this, for it is a thing which
profiteth nothing.
Ch. 247. Ofthe Reply which King Don Rodrigo
路 made to thefalse Hermit.
"Good man, said the King, all that thou shalt com-
mand me to do beyond the rule which the holy Her-
 342
mit appointed me, that will I do; that in which my
penance may be more severe, willingly will I do it.
But in other manner I will not take thy counsel; and
as thou hast talked enough of this, leave me there.
fore to my prayers. And then the King bent his
knees, and began to go on with his rule. And the
false Hermit when he saw this departed, and returned
not again for a month; and all that time the King
maintained his penance, in the manner which had
been appointed him. And by reason that he ate only
of that black bread, and drank only water, his flesh
fell away, and he became such that there was not a
man in the world who would have known him. Thus
he remained in the hermitage, thinking of no other
thing than to implore the mercy of God that he
would pardon him.

Ch. 248.- Of what the false Hermit saidto King Don

Rodrigo to dispart himfrom his Rule.
" King Don Rodrigo living thus, one day, between
midnight and dawn, the false hermit came to the her-
mitage; and not in the same figure as before, but
appearing more youthful, so that he would not be
known. And he called at the door, and the King
looked who it might be, and saw that he was habited
like a servant of God, and he opened the door forth.
with. And they saluted each other. And when they
saw each other, the false Hermit greeted the King,
and demanded of him where the father was; and the
King answered, that for more than a month there
had been no person dwelling there save himself.
And the false Hermit, when he heardthis, made sem
blance as if he were afflicted with exceeding grief,
and said, How came this to be, for it is not yet six
weeks since I came here and confessed my sins to
the father who abode here, and then departed from
this hermitage to my own, which is a league from
hence? And King Don Rodrigo said, Friend, know
that this hermit is now in Paradise, as I believe, and
 343
1buried him with my own hands: and he shewed him
the place where he lay. And when he went there he
began to kiss the earth of the grave, and to make
great dole and lamentation over him. And when
some half hour had past he withdrew, making sem-
blance as if he wished to say his hours. And before
the king had finished to say his, he came to him, and
said, Good man, will you say mass? And the King
answered, that he never said it. Then, said the false
Hermit, hear me then in penitence, for I would con-
fess. And the King seeing that it was for the service
of Godto hear him in penitence, they seated them-
selves both at the foot of the altar. And when the
false Hermit spake, it appeared that he had no sin
to confess: for he began to relate many great ser
vices which he had done to God, as well in the life
which he led as in other things. And before the king
could absolve him he rose up, and asked if things
were ready for the mass. And the King said that he
knew not, and bade him look. It was now time that
he should go to his oratory. And the false Hermit
asked himthat he should assist him in saying mass,
and then he should hear it. And the King said, that
fornothing in the world would he leave to fulfil his
penance, according as it had been appointed him:
and he went to his oratory. And the false Hermit
made as ifhe put on the vestments and all the orna-
ments, and began to say mass, to the end that he
might deceive the king, and make him cease to eb-
serve his penance, and come to adore the mass. And
he made a watery cloud arise, so that it rained heavily
where the King was. And when he saw that he could
in no ways entice him, then he went to him, and
said, Good man, for that you may be placed out of
danger in cases which at all times will happen, see
ing that you are alone, I have consecrated the body
of Jesus Christ, that you may adore it every day,
since you may not hear mass; and thus may you ful
fil your penance as a faithful Christian. And with
that he dispeeded himself, saying, In the coffer upon
 344
the altar you will find the Corpus Christi: when you
rise from hence go and adore it. When he had said
this, he went his way. And the King believed that
what he said was true, and held that he was a good
man, and ofholy life."

Ch. 249.-How the Holy Ghost visited King Don

Rodrigo.
"Nowwhen the King had ended his prayers, which
he used to say every day before he took food, he saw a
good man come towards him, clad in white garments,
and with a fresh countenance and a cheerful; and a
cross upon his breast. And as he arrived where the
King was, he blest him; and when the King saw him,
he perceived that it was a revelation of God; and he
joinedhis hands, and placed himselfon his knees upon
the ground, weeping plentifully. And the holy man
said, King, who art desirous of heavenly glory, con-
tinue the service which thou art performing for the
love of my holy name; and take heed lest the enemy
overcome thee, as he who many times hath overcome
thee, whereby thou hast come to what thou now art.
And believe none of all those who may come to thee
here, for they come for no other cause but only to de-
ceive thee, and withdraw thee from the service which
thou dost me. And alway observe the rule given thee
by the holy man whom thou buriedst; for I am con-
tent with it, and thy soul shall receive refreshment
ifthou observest it. Come here, and I will show thee
how the Devil thought to deceive thee, that thou
mightest adore him. Then the King arose and went,
alway upon his knees, following the Holy Spirit of
God: and when he was within the hermitage, our
Lord spake and said, Depart from hence thou cursed
one, and go thy way, for thou hast no power to deceive
him who continues in my service. Get thee to the in-
fernal pains which are suffered by those who are in
the ninth torment! And at that hour the King plainly
saw how from the ark, which was upon the altar,
 345
there went out a foul and filthy devil, with more than
fifty tails and as many eyes, who, uttering great yells,
departed from the place. And the King was greatly
dismayed at the manner in which the false Hermit
had deceived him. And the Holy Spirit of God said
to him, King, let thy hope be in my name, and I will
alway be with thee, so thou wilt not let thyselfbe van-
quished by the enemy. Then the Holy Spirit of God
departed, and the King remained full joyful and
greatly comforted, as if he had been in celestial
glory. And thus he continued his life for nearly two
months."

Ch. 250.-How the Devil would have deceived King

Don Rodrigo in the Figure ofCount DonJulian.
"The king was in his oratory one Sunday toward
night-fall, just as the sun was setting, when he saw a
man coming toward him, clad in such guise as is fit-
ting for one who follows arms. And as he looked at
him, he saw that it was the Count Don Julian who
approached; and he saw that behind him there came
a great power of armed people. And the false Count,
when he drew nigh, made obeisance to him; and the
King was amazed at seeing him, for he knew him
well: nevertheless he remained still. And the false
Count came to him, and would have kissed his hand,
but the King would not give it, neither would he rise
up from the oratory: and the false Count knelt upon
the ground before him, and said, Sir, forasmuch as I
am he who sinned against thee like a man who is a
traitor to his Lord, and as I did it with great wrath
and fury, which possessed my heart through the
strength of the Devil, our Lord God hath had com-
passion on me, and would not that I should be utterly
lost, northat Spain should be destroyed, nor that thou,
sir, shouldest be put down from thy great honour and
state, and the great Lordship which thou hadst in
Spain. And he has shewn me, in a revelation, how
thou wert here in this hermitage doing this great
P2
 346
penance for thy sins. Wherefore I say to thee, that
thou shouldst do justice upon me, and take vengeance
according to thy will, as upon one who deserves it,
for I acknowledge that thou wert my lord, and also
the great treason into which I have fallen. Where-
fore, sir, I pray and beseech thee by the one only
God, that thou wilt take the power of Spain, which
is there awaiting thee, and that thou wilt go forth to
defend the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, and suffer
not that poor Spain should be utterly destroyed, see-
ing that thou canst defend it and protect it. And then
Count Don Julian drew his sword, and gave it to the
King, saying, Sir, take this my sword, and with thine
own hand do justice upon me, and take such ven-
geance as thou pleasest; for I will suffer it with much
patience, seeing I have sinned against thee. And the
King was greatly troubled at his sight, and at his
words also, and knew not what he should do, neither
what he should say. Howbeit, presently he called to
mind what the Holy Spirit of God had said to him,
how he should take heed lest the Devil should subdue
him; and so he said nothing, but continued in his
prayer. And the false Count Don Julian said to him,
Sir, wilt thou not turn for the Holy Faith of Jesus
Christ, which is utterly going to destruction? rise up
and defend it, for I bring thee a full great power; and
thus thou wilt serve God and recover the honour
which thou hadst lost. Rise then and go forth, and
have pity upon miserable spain, which is about to be
lost: and have compassion also upon so many people
as are perishing for want of a Lord who should de-
fend them. Now all these words were only meant to
deceive him, for it was the Devil who had taken the
form of Count Don Julian, and not the Count him-
self. But the King could no longer restrain himself
from replying, and he said, Go you, Count, and de-
fend the land with this force which you have assem
bled, even as you went to destroy it bythe great trea
son which you committed against me and against
God. And even as you brought the men, whoare ene
 347
mies of God and ofhis Holy Faith, and led them into
Spain, so now thrust them out and defend it; for I
will neither slay you, nor assist you in it. Leave me
to myself; I am no longer for the world, for here I
will do penance for my sins. Urge me, therefore, no
more with these reasons. And the false Count Don
Julian rose, and went to the great company which he
had brought there, and brought them all before the
King. And the King, whenhe beheld that great com.
pany of knights, saw some among them whom he
surely thought had been slain in battle. And they all
said to him with loud voices, Sir, whom wilt thou
send us that we may take him for our king and lord
to protect and defend us, seeing that thou wilt not
defend the land, neither go with us? Wouldst thou
give us thy nephew the Infant Don Sancho? He is
dead. What then wouldst thou command us that we
should do? Look to it well, sir; it is no service of God
that thou shouldst let perish so great a Christianity
as is everyday perishing, because thou art here dwell-
ing in this solitude. Look to it, for God will require
an account at thy hands: thou hadst the charge of de-
fending them, and thou lettest them die. And tell us
what course shall we take. And when the King beard
these words he was moved to compassion: and the
tears came into his eyes, so that he could not restrain
them; and he was in such state that his thoughts
failed him, and he was silent, and made no replyto
any thing that they could say. And all these compa-
nies who saw him complained so much the more, and
sent forth great cries, and made a great tumult and
uproar, and said, O miserable King, why wilt thou
not rouse thyself for thy own sake, and for that of
all thy people whom thou seest without a Lord; and
thou wilt not even speaka word to comfort them, and
tell them what they shall do. And all this while the
Kingdid nothing but weep, and answered them never
a word. And when this vile race saw that they could
not take him from thence, and that he answered them
nothing, and that they could not overcome him by
 348
whatever they might do, they went forthwith from
the mountain down into a plain, which was then
made to appear before the King, and there they drew
up their battles in such guise as the King Don Ro-
drigo was used to darrain them. And eftsoon he saw
great multitudes of strange people, who came from
the other side, and they began a battle so fierce and
so cruel, that the King thought he had never seen one
like it. And the one party put the other to the worst,
and followed after them in pursuit. And then there
eame messengers to the King, telling him his people
had conquered, and had slain many of the enemy,
but the King was confounded, and as it were beside
himself, and heeded not, neither did he know what
they said, and he answered nothing. And then they
all went away, and it seemed to the King that the
one were pursuing the others, and this continued till
the first crowing of the cock. And the King recover-
ed his senses: howbeit he knew not whether it was a
vision, or if it had indeed happened; but he called to
mind that he had not completed the prayers which
he made every day; and he began them again and
finished them. And when he had finished, great part
ofthe night was past, and he laid himself down to
sleep. And then for three months he had no other
temptation."

Ch. 251.- Howw the

the Devil, in the Figure ofLa Cava, the
Daughter of Count Don Julian, sought to deceive
King Don Rodrigo.
" The King was saying his prayers at the hour of
vespers on a Tuesday, when he saw people on horse-
back coming toward him: and as they were about the
reach of a cross-bow from him, he saw that they
alighted, and that there came toward him a woman,
who was full nobly clad; and when she came near, he
knew her that she was La Cava, the daughter of
Count Don Julian, and she seemed to him more beau-
tiful than he had ever before seenher in his life. And
 349
when she drew nigh she humbled herself, and said,
Sir, what fortune has brought you to this wretched
life in which you have so long continued? And the
King held his peace and said nothing. And that false
Cava said, Sir, it is a month since a holy man, clad
in white garments, and having a red cross upon his
breast, appeared to me when I was with my father
Count Don Julian in Toledo; where he now holds
the seat of the lordship of Spain, as he who, by force
of arms, has subdued the Moors, and killed or made
captives ofthem all. At the hour when this holy man
appeared to me I was alone in my chamber, having
great sorrow in my heart, because I had no certain
news where you was, and whether your soul continu-
ed to live in this world, or in another. And, more-
over, I was full sorrowful, because ofthe death ofmy
Lady the Queen Eliaca, your wife, who is now de-
ceased. And for these things my heart was full sor
rowful, and in great trouble with griefs and thoughts,
which came to me I know not from whence, and I
was like one bereft of his judgment. And while I
was contemplating in this state, the holy man ap-
peared to me in such wise as I have said, and said to
me, of what art thou taking thought? Cease to la-
ment, for without me thou canst do nothing certain
of that which thou desirest. But that the dominion
of Spain may not pass away from the power of the
Goths, and that he who shall have it may descend
from thy seed, and be ofthe generation of King Don
Rodrigo, it is my will that thou shouldst know where
he is, and that thou shouldst go to him, and that he
should go in unto thee, and that thou shouldst con
ceive of him a son, and shall call his name Felber
san, the which shall be such a one that he shall re
duce under his forces all the earth which is below
the firmament. Depart, therefore, from hence, and go
to the place where he is, and make no tarriance; for
thus it behoveth for the service of God, and for the
weal and protection and defence of the land. And I
said to him, Sir, how can this be which you tell me,
 350
seeing that King Don Rodrigo is dead; for his ene-
mies slew him when they won the battle in which
the great chivalry of Spain perished. And he said to
me, Cava, think not that he is dead, for he liveth,
and passeth his life alone in a hermitage; of the
which thy father Count Don Julian will certify
thee, for he went to seek him there, and found him
there when he overcame the Moors. He will tell thee
that he is alive, and in what place is the hermitage
wherein he abideth. And I said to him, But if King
Don Rodrigo passeth his life after this manner in the
service of God, he will not approach me that I may
conceive of him this son who should prove so good.
And since it thus pleases you, give me a sign by
which I may show him that this is pleasing to God,
and that he may do this which you say, seeing so
great good is to follow from it. And, moreover, he
will be brought to such weakness that he will not be
able to obey, by reason of the great abstinence to
which his body has been subjected during his con-
notfor this,
tinuance forGode
there. And holy man said to me, Care
willgive him strength; and thon
shalt say to him for a sign that he may believe thee,
how I told him that he should take heed lest the ene-
my deceive him, and how I bade the Devil depart
from the altar where he was in the ark instead of
the Corpus Christi, for that he should adore him.
When thou tellest him this he will believe thee, and
will understand that it is by the command of God.
And when he had said these words he disappeared,
so that I saw him no more; and I remained for a full
hour, being greatly comforted, because I knew of
your life, so that it seemed to me there were no other
glory in this world. And when I came to myself, I
went incontinently to my father Count Don Julian,
and told him all that had befallen me with the holy
man who came in that holy vision; and I asked him
if he knew aught concerning you. And he told me
how he had gone to you with all his chivalry to bid
you come out from thence to defend your country,
 351
which the enemies had taken from you, and that you
would not; but rather commended it to him that he
should undertake it, and defend the land and govern
it; and that it grieved him to think that you would
not be alive, because of the great abstinence which
you imposed every day upon your flesh: neverthe
less, since it pleases our Lord that I should have a son
by you, who should be so good a man that he should
recover all Spain, he would have me go to this place,
where I should find you if you were alive; and right
content would he be that there should remain ofyou
so great good. And I, sir King, seeing how it pleased
God that this should be accomplished, according as
I have said, am come here in secret, for neither man
nor woman knoweth of this, save my father Count
Don Julian; for I have told my people who came
with me to remain yonder, because I would go and
confess to a holy man who had made his abode here
more than fifty years. Now, since God is the author
of this, recover yourself, and remember the time when
you told me that there was nothing in the world
which you loved so much as me, nor which you de
sired so greatly as to obtain a promise of me; the
which I could not give at that hour, by reason that
the Queen was living, and I knew it to be a great
sin. And if I come to you now, it is by command of
God, for it pleases him to send me here; and, also,
because the Queen is no longer in this present life.
And because you are so fallen away ofyour strength,
let us go into the hermitage, or I will order a tent
to be placed here, and let us sup together, that your
heart may revive and you may fulfil the command of
God."

Ch. 252.-How the Devil would have deceived King

Don Rodrigo, if the Holy Spirit had not visited and
protected him.
"As the King heard all this his whole body began
to tremble, and his soul within him also; and all
 352
sense and power past away from him, so that he was
in a trance, and then it was revealed to him that he
should take heed against that temptation. And the
false Cava, who saw him thus entranced, made many
burning torches of wax come there, by reason that
it was cold, and because that the King should derive
heat; also there was a pavilion pitched there, and a
table set within it with many viands thereon, and all
the people who came with her were seen to lodge
themselves far away upon the mountain. And when
he had recovered himself, he saw that the false Cava
was drest in a close-fitting kirtle, which came half
waybelow the knee, and she seemed to him the fair
est woman that he had ever seen in his life, and it
appeared to the King that she said to him, Here, sir,
come and take your supper. And the King began
again to tremble and lose his judgment, and fell into
such a state that he knew not where he was, and it
was revealed to him in that hour that he should guard
against the temptation. And when he came to him-
self he saw that the pavilion was spread over his
head; and seeing himselfin that place, he looked for
the oratory, and perceived that it was where it used
to be; and within the pavilion he saw the false Cava,
who was there with him, and that she was standing
beside a bed, which was a full rich one, and that she
began to take off her kirtle, and remained in her
shift only, and with her long hair, which reached to
her feet; and she said to him, See, sir, here in your
power, that which you most desired, and which is
now awaiting you. Rejoice, then, and take heart, and
do that which God has appointed, which will recò-
ver Spain, and recompense the losses and sorrows
and wrongs which you have endured. And then she
turned toward the King, for the Devil thought thus
to tempt him, and make him break the penance
which he had begun; and certes I ween there was no
living man who would not right gladly have ap-
proached her. And then before him, in his sight, she
began to comb and to plait her golden locks. And
 353
the King, seeing how beautiful she was, began to
tremble all over, as if he had been struck with palsy;
and he lost his judgment again, and became en-
tranced, and remained thus a long while before he
came again to himself. And it was revealed to him
again that he should take heed how the Devil tempt.
ed him, and that he should have firm hope in God,
and not break the penance which the holy Hermit
had appointed him. But ever when he recovered
from these trances, he forgot all which had been re-
vealed to him while he was entranced; and now he
found that there was a large estrado placed by him,
and that La Cava was lying there beside him onl
some pillows, which were richly wrought in gold,
undrest, as he had seen her, and that she said to him,
Come, sir, for you tarry long, and it will soon be day-
break. And the King seeing her so near him, then
he was greatly troubled, yet could he not withdraw
his eyes from her: but he called to mind how the
Holy Spirit of God had bade him that he should al
ways confide in his name, and place his true hope in
the sign of the Cross. And he claspt his hands, and
lifted them towards Heaven, and weeping bitterly,
in great contrition, he said, O Lord, and very God
Jesus Christ, deliver me from all temptation, and
preserve my soul, that it fall not into perdition. And
while he was praying thus, he saw how there came
from the hermitage a great brightness, and he said,
Deliver me, Lord, from the power of the Devil, that
I may not be deceived, nor withdrawn from thy holy
service. And at that hour he made the sign of the
cross upon his forehead, and blest himself; and at that
hour the false Cava fell down the rock into the sea,
with such a sound as if the whole world were falling
to pieces, and with the plunge which she made the
sea dashed up so high, that where the oratory was
the king was wetted with the spray. And he remain-
ed in such astonishment that he could not for an
hour recover himself. And when he came to himself
he began to pray with great repentance, as ifhe had
 354
been on the point of falling into temptation. And 2
the Holy Spirit of God came to him in that same A
manner in which he had seen it the former time. D
And he fell on his face upon the ground, and began S
to lament full bitterly, and to say, Lord, have mercy
upon my soul, and forsake me not among mine ene- th
mies, who would withdraw me from thee. And the d
Holy Spirit said to him, O King, of little faith, how
hast thou been on the point of perishing! And the
King made no reply, for he did nothing but weep.
And the Holy Spirit of God said to him, Take heed, C
King, lest the Devil deceive thee, and have power
over thee, that thou shouldst not fulfil the penance
which thou hast commenced, neither save thy soul.
And the King lifted up his countenance, and had
great shame to behold him. Howbeit he took courage,
and said, Lord, have mercy upon me, and let me not
be tempted bythe enemy, for my heart is weak, and
hath no power to defend itself against the false one: t
for my judgment is clean confounded, as one who it
hath no virtue ifhe be not aided by thy grace. Deli- t
ver me, Lord, for thy holy mercy and compassion: 2
my salvation cannot come through the strength of 2
myheart, for it is wholly full of fear, like a thing
which is overcome. And the Holy Spirit of God said
to him, Take courage and fear not, for thou shalt t
depart from this place sooner than thou thinkest. &
And when it is time I will guide thee to the place C
where thou shalt do thy penance, that thy soul may
receive salvation. When thou shalt see a little white
cloud appear above thee, and that there is no other
in the sky, follow after it: and in the place where it
shall stop shalt thou fulfil thy penance, according as
the chief priest in that place shall appoint it thee.
And take heart, and alway call to mind my holy
name, and have true faith and constant hope in thy
Saviour. And when he had said this he departed.
And the King was greatly comforted and full of
grace, as one with whom God was present in his
mercy. And he abode in the hermitage a whole year,
 355
according to his reckoning, and twelve days more.
And one day, when it was full clear, the King looked
up and saw above him the cloud of which the Holy
Spirit of God had told him; and when he saw it he
wasfull joyful, and gave many thanks to God. Never-
theless the King did not rise from his prayers, neither
did the cloud move from above him. And when he
had finished his prayers he looked at the cloud, and
saw that it moved forward.

Ch. 253.-How King Don Rodrigo departed from the

Hermitage, and arrived where he wasto do Penance.
"The king arose from the oratory and followed
the cloud; and so great was the pleasure he had, that
he cared not for food, neither remembered it, but
went after that his holy guide. And at night he saw
how the cloud, when the sun was about to set, turned
tothe right of the road toward the mountains; and
it went on so far, that before night had closed it came
to a hermitage, in which there was a good man for
a Hermit, who was more than ninety years of age,
and there it stopt. And the King perceived that he
was to rest there, and the good man welcomed the
King, and they spake together of many things. And
the King was well contented with his speech, and
saw that certes he was a servant of God. And all that
day the King had not eaten, and he was barefoot,
and his raiment tattered: and as he had not been used
to travel a-foot, and with his feet bare, his feet were
swoln with blisters. And when it was an hour after
night, the Hermit gave him a loaf, full small, which
was made of rye, and there were ashes kneaded with
it, and the king ate it; and when he had eaten they
said prayers. And when they had said their hours,
they laid down to sleep. And when it was midnight
they arose and said their hours; and when they had
said them, the King went out of the hermitage, and
saw that the cloud did not move: and then the King
understood that he had to tarry there, or that he was
 356
to hear mass before he departed, and he asked the a
Hermit to hear his confession, and the Hermit con- t
fessed him. And when he had confessed, he said that t
he would communicate, and the good Hermit saw
that it was good, and he put on his vestments and
said mass; and the King heard the mass, and received
the very body of our Lord Jesus Christ. And when
the King had done this he went out to look at the
cloud. And as he went out of the hermitage he saw
that the cloud began to move, and then he dispeeded
himself from the Hermit, and they embraced each
other weeping, and each entreated the other that he
would bear him in mind, and remember him in his
prayers. And when the King had dispeeded himself,
he followed after his holy guide, and the holy Her
mit returned to his hermitage. And the King Don
Rodrigo, notwithstanding his feet were swoln and
full of blisters, and that in many places they were
broken and bleeding, such and so great was the joy
which he felt at going on in the course which he now
held, that he endured it all as though he had felt
nothing. And he went, according as it seemed to him,
full six leagues, and arrived at a Convent of Black
Monks, and there the cloud stopt, and would pro-
ceed no farther. And at that convent there was an
Abbot who led an extraordinarily good and holy life;
and they were not there like other monks; and he
was a great friend of God and of our Lady the Vir-
gin Saint Mary: and this Abbot took the King to his
cell, and asked him ifhe would eat ashe was wontto
do, or like the other monks; and the King said that
he would do as he should direct him. And the Abbot
ordered that a loaf should be brought ofpannick and
maize mixed together, and a jar of water, and on
the other side he had food placed such as the monks
used; and the King would eat only of the pannick
bread, as he had been wont to do, and he drank ofthe
water. And when he had eaten, the Abbot asked of
him if he would remain that night or not, and the
King said that he knewnot, but that he would go out
 357
and see whether he were to go or to remain. And
the Abbot said that it was the hour of vespers, and
that he ought to remain; and the King went out and
saw that the cloud moved, and that it behoved him
to go, and he dispeeded himself fromthe Abbot, and
they commended themselves each to the other in his
prayers. And the Abbot saw plainly how that cloud
guided him, and how there was no other in the sky,
and he marvelled greatly and said, Certes this is some
holy man, and he gave thanks to God. And the King
went on that evening till he came to a church which
was solitary and remote from peopled places; and
there the cloud stopt, and he abode there that night.
And the King went into the church, and found in it
a lamp burning, and it rejoiced him much, for by the
light of it he said his hours as well before he should
sleep as after. And on the morrow when he had made
his prayer, he went out ofthe church and beheld the
cloud, and saw that it moved; and he went after it,
and after two days' journey he came to a place which
where it is, or what it is called, is not said, save that
it is the place of his burial, for such it is. And there
the cloud stopt and proceeded no farther; and it
rested without the town over an ancient hermitage.
And the elder of that place incontinently knew by
the Holy Spirit how King Don Rodrigo was come.
there; but he knew not his name, neither who he
was; and he asked him if he meant to lead his life
"there, and he answered that it was to be as God
should please. And the elder said to him, Friend, I
am the Elder of this place, for all the others when
they knew that King Don Rodrigo and his chivalry
were slain and vanquished, fled from hence for fear
ofthe Moors, and of the traitor Count Don Julian,
and they all went to the mountains to escape. And I
remained, putting my trust in our Lord God, and in
his holy hands: for that I would rather abide that
which may befall and take myadventure here, than
utterly forsake our mother holy church; while I am
able I will remain here and not forsake it, but rather
 358
receive my death. And therefore I say, that if you
are to abide here you must provide yourself of that
whereof you have need. And the King said, Friend
of God, concerning my tarriance I cannot certify
you; though surely I think that I shall abide; and if
for the service of God you will be pleased to send me
every day that I remain a loaf of pannick and wa.
ter, I shall be contented therewith. And the Elder
promised this, and departed forthwith and went to
his home, and sent him a loaf of pannick and water.
And the cloud remained there three days over that
hermitage, and when the three days were at an end,
it was seen no more. And the King, when he could
no longer see it, understood that there he must per
form his penance, and gave many thanks to God,
and was full joyful thereat. And on the morrow the
Elder came to see him, and they communed with
each other in such manner, that the King confessed
to him all the sins which he had committed during
his life to that time, all which he called to mind with
great contrition, weeping full bitterly and groaning
for his errors and sins. And the Elder was greatly
astonished, and said, that on the third day from
thence he would appoint him his penance. And he
went to his church and confessed, and addressed
himself to prayer in such guise that he neither ate
nor drank, nor raised himself from one place, weep-
ing bitterly, and beseeching God that he would show
him what penance he should appoint the King; for
after no other manner did he think to appoint it,
than such as his holy merey and compassion should
direct. And on the third day he heard a voice which
said thus, Command King Don Rodrigo that he go to
a fountain which is below his hermitage, and he shall
find there a smooth stone; and bid him lift it up, and
and under it he shall find three little serpents, the
one having two heads. And bid him take that which
hath two heads, and carry it away, and place it in a
jar, and nurse it secretly, so that no person in the
world shall know thereof, save onlyhe and thou; and
 359
let him keep it till it is so great that it hath made
three turns within the jar, and put its head out; and
when it is of that greatness, then let him take it out,
and lay it in a tomb which is there, and lie down
himself with it, naked; and close the tomb well that
the serpent may not be able to go out; and in this
manner is God pleased that King Don Rodrigo
should do penance.

Ch. 254. Ofthe Penance which was appointed King

Don Rodrigo.
"The Elder when he heard the voice was greatly
amazed at so rigorous a penance as this, and gave
many thanks to God, and he went to King Don Rod-
rigo, and told him the manner howhe had heard the
voice, and the King was full joyful and content and
pleased therewith, and gave many thanks to our
Lord, for that he should now complete his penance
and save his soul. And therewith in great joy, and
shedding many tears for pleasure, he went to the
fountain as he had been directed, and found the
smooth stone. And when he had lifted it up, he
found the three serpents according as the Elder had
said, and he took that which had two heads, and he
took it and put it in a great jar, such as would be a
large wine-vessel, and nurst it there till it was ofsuch
bigness as the voice had said. And when King Don
Rodrigo saw that it was of this bigness he confessed
to the Elder, weeping full bitterly,demanding favour
of God that he would give him grace and strength
with patience to fulfil that penance without any
temptation or trouble of soul; to the end that the
penance being completed, it might please our Lord
God to receive his soul into his glory. And before the
fifth day after the serpent was thus big, the King
and the Elder went to the tomb, and they cleansed
it well within; and the King placed himself in it
naked as he was born, and the serpent with him, and
the Elder with a great lever laid the stone upon the
 360
top. And the King besought the elder that he would
pray to our Lord to give him grace that he might
patiently endure that penance, and the elder pro-
mised him, and thus the King remained in his tomb,
and the serpent with him. And the Elder consoled
him, saying to him many things to the end that he
might not be dismayed, neither fall into despair,
whereby he should lose the service of God. And all
this was so secret that no man knew it, save only the
King and the Elder. And when it was day-break the
Elder went to the church and said mass, with many
tears and with great devotion beseeching God that
he would have mercy and compassion upon King
Don Rodrigo, that with true devotion and repent-
ance he might complete his penance in this manner,
which was for his service. And when he had said
mass, he went to the place where King Don Rodrigo
lay, and asked him how he fared, and the King an
swered, Well, thanks to God, and better than he de-
served, but that as yet he was just as when he went
in. And the Elder strengthened him as much as he
could, telling him that he should call to mind how
he had been a sinner, and that he should give thanks
to our Lord God, for that he had visited him in this
world, and delivered him from many temptations,
and had himself appointed for him this penance; the
which he should suffer and take with patience, for
soon he would be in heavenly glory. And the King
said to him, that he well knew how according to his
great sins he merited a stronger penance; but that
he gave many thanks to our Lord Jesus, for that he
himself had given him this penance, which he did
receive and take with great patience; and he be
sought the Elder that he would continue to pray our
Lord God that he would let him fulfil it. And the
Elder said to him many good things concerning our
Lord God. And the King lay there three days, during
all which time the serpent would not seize on him.
And when the third day, after that he had gone into
 361
the tomb, was completed, the serpent rose from his
side, and crept upon his belly and his breast, and be-
gan with the one head to eat at his nature, and with
the other straight toward his heart. And at this time
the Elder came to the tomb, and asked him how he
fared, and he said, Well, thanks to God, for now the
serpent had begun to eat. And the Elder asked him
at what place, and he answered at two, one right
against the heart with which he had conceived all
the ills that he had done, and the other at his nature,
the which had been the cause of the great destruc
tion of Spain. And the Elder said that God was with
him, and exhorted him that he should be of good
courage,for now all his persecutions both of the body
and of the soul would have an end. And the King
ceased not always to demand help of our Lord, and
to entreat that of his holy mercy he would be pleas-
ed to forgive him. And the Elder went to his home,
and would not seat himself to eat, but retired into
his chamber, and weeping, prayed full devoutly to
our Lord that he would give strength to the King
that he might complete his penance. And the ser
pent, as he was dying for hunger, and moreover was
large, had in one minute eaten the nature, and be-
gan to eat at the bowels; nevertheless he did not eat
so fast, but that the King endured in that torment
from an hour before night till it was past the middle
ofthe day. And when the serpent broke through the
web of the heart, he staid there and ate no farther.
And incontinently the King gave up his spirit to our
Lord, who by his holy mercy took him into his glory.
And at that hour when he expired all the bells ofthe
place rang of themselves, as if men had rung them.
Then the Elder knew that the King was dead, and
that his soul was saved."
Thomas Newton, in his " Notable History of the
Saracens," seems to imagine that this story is allego-
rical. " Nowe," he says, " wheras it is reported and
written, that he folowed a starre or a messenger of
૧
 362
God, which conducted and guided him in his way;
it may be so, and the same hath also happened to
others; but it may as well also be understoode of a
certaine secrete starre moving and directing his will.
"And whereas they say he was put by that holy
man into a cave or hole, and a serpent with hym that
had two heads, which in two days space gnawed all
the flesh of his body from the bones; this, beyng
simplie taken and understanded, hath no likelihood
of any truth. For what sanctity, what religion, or
what pietie, commandeth to kyll a penitent person,
and one that seeketh comfort of hys afflicted mind
by amendment of life, with such horrible torments
and straunge punishment? Wherefore I woulde ra-
ther thinke it to be spoken mysticallye, and that the
serpent with two heads signifieth his sinful and gylty
conscience."
A humbletomb wasfound.-XXV. p. 202.
How Carestes found the grave of King Don Rodrigo
at Viseo in Portugal.
"I, Carestes, vassal of King Don Alfonso of Leon,
son-in-law of the Knight of God, King Don Pelayo,
when the said King Don Alfonso won Viseo from
the Moors who held it, found a grave in a field, upon
the which were written in Gothic letters, the words
which you shall here read. This grave was in front
of a little church, without the town of Viseo, and
the superscription of the writing was thus:-

Ofthe writing which was upon thegrave ofKing Don

Rodrigo.
" Here lies King Don Rodrigo, the last of the
Goths. Cursed be the wrath of the traitor Julian, for
it was of long endurance, and cursed be his anger,
for it was obdurate and evil, for he was mad with
rage, and stomachful with pride, and puffed up with
folly, and void ofloyalty, and unmindful ofthe laws,
 363
and a despiser thereof; cruel in himself, a slayer of
his Lord, a destroyer of his country, a traitor to his
countrymen; bitter is his name; and it is as griefand
sorrow in the mouth of him who pronounces it; and
it shall always be cursed by all that speak of him."
That veracious chronicler Carestes then concludes
his true history in these words: " And by this which
I found written upon this grave, I am of mind that
King Don Rodrigo lies there, and because of the life
which he led in his penitence, according as ye have
heard, which also was in the same tomb written in a
book ofparchment, I believe without doubt that it
is true; and because of the great penance which he
did, that God was pleased to make it known in such
manner as it past, for those who hereafter shall have
to rule and govern, to the end that all men may see
how soon pride is abased and humility exalted. This
Chronicle is composed in memory of the noble King
Don Rodrigo; that God pardon his sins, and that Son
of the Virgin without stain, Jesus Christ, bring us to
true repentance, who liveth and reigneth for ever
and ever. Amen. Thanks be to God!"

I believe the Archbishop Roderick of Toledo is

the earliest writer who mentions this discovery. He
died in 1247. The fact may very possibly have been
true, forthere seems to have been no intention ofset-
ting up ashrine connected with it. The Archbishop's
words are as follow:-
"Quid de Rege Roderico acciderit ignoratur; tamen
corona, vestes et insignia et calciamenta auro et lapidi
bus adornata, et equus qui Orelia dicebatur in loco tre-
mulo juxta fluvium sine corpore sunt inventa. Quid
autem de corporefuerit factumpenitus ignoratur, nisi
quod modernis temporibus apud Viseum civitatem Por-
tugalliæ inscriptus tumulus invenitur. Hic jacet Ro-
dericus ultimus Rex Gotthorum. Maledictus furor
impius Juliani quia pertinax, et indignatio, quia dura;
animosus indignatione, impetuosusfurore, oblitus fide
litatis, immemor religionis, contemptor divinitatis, cru-
 364
delis in se, homicida in dominum, hostis in domesticos,
vastator in patriam, reus in omnes, memoria ejus in
mni ore amarescet, et nomen ejus in æternum putres
cet."-Rod. Tol. L. 3. C. 19.
Lope de Vega has made this epitaph, with its ac
companying reflections, into two stanzas of Latin
rhymes, which occur in the midst of one of his long
poems.
Hocjacet in sarcophago Rex ille
Penultimus Gothorum in Hispania,
Infelix Rodericus; viator sile,
Nefortèpereat tota Lusitania:
Provocatus Cupidinis missile
Telo, tam magnd affectusfuit insanid
Quamtota Hiberia vinculis astricta
Testaturmæsta, lachrimatur victa.
Execrabilem Comitem Julianum
Abhorreant omnes, nomine et remoto
Patrio, appellent Erostratum Hispanum,
Nec tantum nostri, sedin orbe toto:
Dum current cæli sidera, vesanum
Vociferant, testante Mauro et Gotho,
Cesset Florindo nomen insuave,
Cava viator est, a Cava cave.
Jerusalen Conquistada, L. 6. ff. 137.

THE END.

20 JY 94