Omitted now,.. here in the face of Heaven,
Before the vassals of his father's house,
With them in instant peril to partake
The chance of life or death, the heroic boy
Dons his first arms; the coated scales of steel
Which o'er the tunic to his knees depend,
The hose, the sleeves of mail; 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

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 towards the youth. I too,
Young Baron, he began, must do my part;
Not with prerogative of earthly power,

But as the servant of the living God,
The God of Hosts. This day thou promisest

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 burnish'd 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 ;

his natural Lord; thirdly, For his country: and when he hath sworn this, then shall the blow on the neck be given him, in order that these things aforesaid may come into his mind, saying, God guard him to his service, and let him perform all that he hath promised; and after this, he who hath conferred the order upon him, shall kiss him, in token of the 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 malignity 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 perverse people to make them fearful."-Tirante il Blanco, p. 1. C. 19. f. 44.

The Hermit reads to Tirante a chapter from the Arbor de battaglie, explaining the origin of knighthood. The world, it is there said, was corrupted, when God, to the intent that he might be loved, honoured, served, and feared once more, chose out from every thousand men one who was more amiable, more affable, more wise, more loyal, more strong, more noble-minded, more virtuous, and of better customs 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 cavallero, because the best animal was thus joined to the most noble man. And when Romulus founded Rome, he chose out a thousand young men to be knights, and" furono nominati militi porche mille furono fatti in un tempo cavalleri." - P. 1. C. 14. f. 40.

The custom which some kings had of knighting themselves is censured by the Partidas. P. ii. T. 21. L. 11. It is there said, that there must be one to give, and another to receive

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 blood,

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 of old,
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,

the order. And a knight can no more knight, than a priest can ordain himself.

"When the Infante Hernando of Castile was chosen king of Aragon, he knighted himself on his coronation day: — De que tots los Barons nobles ho tengeren una gran maravella com el matex se feu cavaller, qui segons los dessus dits deyen nenguno pot esser cavaller, sino dones nos fa cavaller de ma de cavaller qui hage lorde de cavalleria.'” — Tomich. C. 47. f. 68.

"The qualifications for a knight, cavallero, or horsesoldier, in the barbarous stage of society, were three: 1st, That he should be able to endure fatigue, hardship, and privations. 2dly, That he should have been used to strike, that his blows might be the 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 mountaineers, accustomed to hunting, carpenters, blacksmiths, 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 of family."— Partida ii. T. 21. L. 2. Vegetius, 1. 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. ii. Tit. 21. Ley 23.

1 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 beginning of the ninth century. The figure is identified by the inscription on the sword,.. Du-rin-dar-da. The lorica, which Canciani explains, " Vestica bellica maculis 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.

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 By all, 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 accursed, 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,
Be witness! for myself I make the vow,
And for my children's children. Here I stand
Their sponsor, binding them in sight of Heaven,
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 exclaimed
Roderick, as turning to the assembled troop
He motion'd with authoritative hand,..
Ye children of the hills and sons of Spain!

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 cross'd their fervent arms, and with bent head Inclined toward that aweful 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 if the 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

A speck scarce visible, gyred round and round,
Was heard distinctly; and the mountain stream,
Which from the distant glen sent forth its sounds
Wafted upon the wind, grew audible

In that deep hush of feeling, like the voice
Of waters in the stillness of the night.

XIII.

COUNT EUDON.

...

THAT aweful 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 Chief presumptuous: 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 Musselmen,
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,
Pass'd 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 of all his glorious life
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

To join 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 pass'd. The murderous Moor,
Not tarrying to secure his vengeance, fled;
While he of milder mood, at Eudon's feet
Fell and embraced his knees. The mountaineer
Who found them thus, withheld at Eudon's voice
His wrathful hand, and led them to his Lord.

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 his silent fortitude;

And how at this eventful juncture speed

Imported more than vengeance. Thrice he sent
The long-resounding signal forth, which rung
From hill 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 of that righteous hour.
With lingering 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 blood,
And where they wiped their reeking brows, the stain
Of Moorish gore was left. But when they came
Where Pedro, with Alphonso at his side,
Stood to behold their coming, then they press'd
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 bless'd 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 brought 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

He must abide the issue. But the thoughts

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 at once,
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 Mussulman,
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
How the 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,

Rejoin'd the Count, be vain. Say farther now,

From whence ye came?.. your orders what?..what force In Gegio? and if others like yourselves

Are in the field?

The African replied,

We came from Gegio, order'd 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
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.
If other 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,
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 of the Goths: . . the throne destroy'd,..
Our towns subdued,. . 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

Terms cried Pelayo, cutting short at once
That dastard speech, and checking, ere it grew
Too powerful for restraint, the incipient wrath
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,
Hath loosen'd and disjointed the whole frame
Of social order, and she calls not now
For service with the force of sovereign will.
That which was common duty in old times,
Becomes an arduous, glorious virtue now;
And every one, as between Hell and Heaven,
In free election must be left to chuse.
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
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 thinkëst that beneath his horses' hoofs
The Moor will trample our poor numbers down;
But join not, in contempt of us and Heaven,
His multitudes! for if thou shouldst be found
Against thy country, on the readiest tree
Those recreant bones shall rattle in the wind,
When the birds have left them bare.

As thus he spake,
Count Eudon heard and trembled: every joint
Was loosen'd, every fibre of his flesh
Thrill'd, and from every pore effused, cold sweat
Clung on his quivering limbs. Shame forced it forth,
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

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 if the worst have fallen, I shall but bear
That in my breast, which, with transfiguring power
Of piety, makes chastening sorrow take
The form of hope, and sees, in Death, the friend
And the restoring Angel. We must rest
Perforce, and wait what tidings night may bring,
Haply of comfort. Ho there! kindle fires,
And see if aught of hospitality

Can yet within these mournful walls be found!

Cast broad and bright a transitory glare.

That sight inspired with strength the mountaineers;
All sense of weariness, all wish for rest
At once were gone; impatient in desire
Of second 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
Were the loose folds of female 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
Victorious,.. for at every saddle-bow
A gory head was hung. I Anon they stopt,
Levelling in quick alarm their ready spears.
Hold! who goes there? cried one. A hundred tongues
Sent forth with one accord the glad reply,
Friends and Austrians. Onward moved the lights,..
The people knew their Lord.

Then what a shout Rung through the valley! From their clay-built nests, Beneath the overbrowing battlements,

Now first disturb'd, the affrighted martins flew,
And uttering notes of terror short and shrill,
Amid the yellow glare 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

His spirit rose; the sense of power, the sight
Of his brave people, ready where he led
To fight their country's battles, and the thought
Of instant action, and deliverance,..

If Heaven, which thus far had protected him,
Should favour still,.. revived his heart, and gave
Fresh impulse to its spring. In vain he sought
Amid that turbulent greeting to enquire
Where Gaudiosa was, his children where,
Who call'd them to the field, who captain'd them;
And how these women, thus with arms and death
Environ'd, came amid their company?

For yet, amid the fluctuating light

And tumult of the crowd, he knew them not.

Guisla was one. The Moors had found in her
A willing and concerted prisoner.
Gladly to Gegio, to the renegade

On whom her loose and shameless love was bent,
Had she set forth; and in her heart she cursed
The busy spirit, who, with powerful call
Rousing Pelayo's people, led them on

In quick pursual, and victoriously
Achieved the rescue, to her mind perverse
Unwelcome as unlook'd for. With dismay
She recognized her brother, dreaded now
More than he once was dear; her countenance
Was turn'd toward him,.. not with eager joy
To court his sight, and meeting its first glance,
Exchange delightful welcome, soul with soul;
Hers was the conscious eye, that cannot chuse
But look to what it fears. She could not shun
His presence, and the rigid smile constrain'd,
With which she coldly drest her features, ill
Conceal'd her inward thoughts, and the despite
Of obstinate guilt and unrepentant shame.
Sullenly thus upon her mule she sate,
Waiting the greeting which she did not dare
Bring on. But who is she that at her side,
Upon a stately war-horse eminent,

knees;

They snatch'd 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:
And pointing to their bloody trophies then,
They told Pelayo there he might behold
The first-fruits of the harvest they should soon
Reap in the field of war! Benignantly,
With voice and look and gesture, did the Prince
To these warm greetings of tumultuous joy
Respond; and sure if at that moment aught
Could for a while have overpower'd those fears
Which from the inmost heart o'er all his frame
Diffused their chilling influence, worthy pride,
And sympathy of love and joy and hope,
Had then possess'd him wholly.

Even now

1 This picture frequently occurs in the Spanish Chronicles. Sigurd the elder, Earl of Orkney, owed his death to a like custom. "Suddenly clapping spurs to his horse, as he was returning home in triumph, bearing, like each of his followers, one of these bloody spoils, a large front tooth in the

Presses the clusters of her flaxen hair;
The shield is on her arm; her breast is mail'd;
A sword-belt is her girdle, 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 of earth, 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
Have not been 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

mouth of the head which hung dangling by his side, cut the calf of his leg: the wound mortified, and he died.—The Earl must have been bare-legged."-Torfæus, quoted in Edmonston's View of the Zetland Islands, vol. i. p. 33.