most necessary. The following is a trans- ballads in which this part of Carpio's story lation of one of the oldest of the Spanish is told: BERNARDO AND ALPHONSO. "With some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appear'd A curse upon thee,' cries the King, who comest unbid to me; "Whoever told this tale the King hath rashness to repeat,' The blood that I like water shed, when Roland did advance, Your words, Lord King, are recompence abundant for it all. Your horse was down---your hope was flown---ye saw the faulchion shine, But memory soon of service done deserteth the ingrate, And ye've thank'd the son for life and crown by the father's bloody fate. Ye swore upon your kingly faith, to set Don Sancho free, But curse upon your paultring breath, the light he ne'er did see; The King that swerveth from his word hath stain'd his purple black, But noble vengeance shall be mine, an open hate I'll show The King hath injured Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe.'-- Seize---seize him!'---loud the King doth scream--- There are a thousand here--- He drew the faulchion from the sheath, and held it up on high, Then to his mouth the horn he drew---(it hung below his cloak) 6 Ha! Bernard,' quoth Alphonso, what means this warlike guise? Concerning THE CID,-Count Fer- the almost innumerable personages of Spanish history or romance, whose deeds are alluded to, and the ballads about them quoted by Don Quixotewe find notes in the same sort of style and fulness. The imitations or paro dies of Amadis, Belianiss, &c. are always pointed out in a manner equally satisfactory-thus: "Amadis retiring from his disdainful Oriana, to do penance on the poor rock. This is one of the most beautifully told of all the adventures of Amadis. It was on 6 the suggestion of the old hermit that he assumed the name of Beltenebros: Y Amadis le pedio que no le llamasse de su nombre mas per otro qual el le quisiesse poner. El hombre bueno dixo: Yo vos quiero poner un nombre que sera conforme a vuestra persona y angustià en que soys puesto; y vuestra vida esta en grande amargura, y en tenieblas, quiero que ayas nombre Beltenebros. A Amadis pluyo de aquel nombre.'-Amad. de Gaula, c. 48. "The penitence of Don Quixote is one of the principal points of his imitation of Amadis and the imitation is carried as close as is consistent with the general purpose of Cervantes. Amadis had just finished the conquest of the Firm Island-an enchanted region, seven leagues long by five broad, which was called Insola, or Insula, because it was almost surrounded by the sea, and Firma Insula, by reason of an isthmus connecting it with the mainland. From this he departed for the court of Sobradisa, the sovereignty of which country was then in the hands of the beautiful Queen Briolanja. The peerless Oriana being informed of this new expedition, conceived certain feelings of jealousy, and sent him, by her page Burin, a letter full of haughty complaints, forbidding him ever to appear again in her presence. The letter was superscribed, I am the damsel wounded with the point of the sword through the heart, and thou art he that hast wounded me.' Amadis, on receiving this communication, sunk forthwith into the profoundest melancholy, left all his adventures cut off in the middle,' and withdrew to do penance in solitude. vised for the fair Dorothea in this book of Every one remembers how often Don Quixote compares ROSINANTE to BAVIECA, the famous steed of the Campeador. On one of these occasions he quotes a line or two from one of the ancient ballads of the ROMANCERO DEL CID, which we find thus rendered in one of the notes to Vol. I. of this edition. BAVIECA. The king looked on him kindly, as on a vassal true; For neither Spain nor Araby could another charger bring With that, the Cid, clad as he was in mantle furr'd and wide, And up and down, and round about, so fierce was his career, And all that saw them praised them-they lauded man and horse, Ne'er had they look'd on horseman might to this knight come near, Thus, to and fro a-rushing, the fierce and furious steed, By any mortal but Bivar-Mount, mount again, my Cid,'" &c. Even after all that Mr Southey and Mr Frere have done, every thing about the Cid is delightful, so we shall give another of the many ballads concerning him as translated in this edition. The story of it is evidently a very apocryphal one; but that is no great matter. Don Quixote quotes it as gravely as it were gospel. THE EXCOMMUNICATION OF THE CID. "It was when from Spain across the main the Cid had come to Rome, The Pope he sitteth above them all, that they may kiss his toe, Ha!' quoth the Cid, 'now God forbid! it is a shame, I wiss, No harm, I hope, good father Pope, although I move thy chair.' The Pope's own seat he from his feet did kick it far away, Absolve my soul, and penance I for my sin will dree.'_ 'Who is this sinner,' quoth the Pope, that at my foot doth kneel ?'- Much marvell'd all were in the hall, when that name they heard him say, 'I do thy guilt away,' he said, and my curse I blot it out; I trow, if I had known thee, my grief it had been sore, The following is of a different class. "Castille had a Count Fernan Gonsalez, Valencia, a Cid, &c.-The story of Fernan Gonzales is detailed in the Chronica Antiqua de Espana, with so many romantic circumstances, that certain modern critics have been inclined to consider it as entirely fabulous. Of the main facts recorded, there seems, however, to be no good reason to doubt; and it is quite certain, that, from the earliest times, the The arms of Castille. name of Fernan Gonsalez has been held in the highest honour by the Spaniards themselves, of every degree. He lived at the beginning of the 10th century. It was under his rule, according to the chronicles, that Castille first became a powerful and independent state, and it was by his exertions that the first foundations were laid of that system of warfare, by which the Moorish power in Spain was at last overthrown The arms of France. He was so fortunate as to have a wife as heroic as himself, and both in the chronicles and in the ballads abundant justice is done to her merits. She twice rescued Fernan Gonsależ from confinement, at the risk of her own life. He had asked her hand in marriage of her father, Garcias, King of Navarre, and had proceeded so far on his way to that prince's court, when he was seized and cast into a dungeon, in consequence of the machinations of his enemy, the Amazonian Queen of Leon, sister to the King of Navarre.-Sancha, the young princess, whose alliance he had solicited, being informed of the cause of his journey, and of the sufferings to which it had exposed him, determined, at all ha zards, to effect his liberation; and having done so by bribing his jailor, she accompanied his flight to Castille. Many years after, he fell into an ambush prepared for him by the same implacable enemy, and was again a fast prisoner in Leon. His countess, feigning a pilgrimage to St James of Compostello, obtained leave, in the first place, to pass through the hostile territory, and afterwards, in the course of her progress, permission to pass one night in the castle where her husband was confined. She exchanged clothes with him; and he was so fortunate as to pass in his disguise through the guards who attended on him his courageous wife remaining in his place exactly in the same manner in which the Countess of Nithsdale effected the escape of her lord from the tower of London, on the 23d of February, 1715. There is, as might be supposed, a whole body of old ballads, concerning the adventures of Fernan Gonsalez. I shall, as a specimen, translate one of the shortest of these that in which the first of his romantic escapes is described. COUNT FERNAN GONSALEZI "They have carried afar into Navarre the great Count of Castille, To the rescue! to the rescue, ho! they have ta'en Fernan Gonsalez.” A noble knight of Normandy was riding through Navarre, ⚫ These bezaunts fair with thee I'll share, so I this lord may see.' The Alcayde was full joyful, he took the gold full soon, The Norman feasts among the guests, but at the evening tide The Moors may well be joyful, but great should be our grief, 'Gonsalez loves thee, lady, he loved thee long ago, The curse that lies on Cava's head, it may be shared by thee; The lady answer'd little, but at the mirk of night, When all her maids are sleeping, she hath risen and ta'en her flight; She hath tempted the Alcayde with her jewels and her gold, And unto her his prisoner that jailor false hath sold. She took Gonsalez by the hand at the dawning of the day, She said, 'Upon the heath you stand, before you lies your way; But if I to my father go, alas! what must I do? My father will be angry-I fain would go with you.' He hath kissed the Infanta, he hath kiss'd her, brow and cheek, Till in the greenwood hunting they met a lordly priest, With his bugle at his girdle, and his hawk upon his wrist. VOL. XI. 4 P Now stop! now stop!' the priest he said, (he knew them both right well,) Now stop, thou fair Infanta, for if my words you scorn, I'll give warning to the foresters with the blowing of my horn.' The base priest's word Gonsalez heard,Now, by the rood!' quoth he, It was ill with Count Gonsalez, the fetters press'd his knees, For help, for help, Gonsalez! for help,' he hears her cry, He has come within the thicket, there lay they on the green, Come forth, come forth, Infanta, mine own true men they be, Their swords shine bright, Infanta, and every blade is thine."" We have quoted so many of these fine ballads, that we are sure it is unnecessary for us to comment on their merits. We shall, therefore, extract one more, and have done. It shall be "the Song of the Admiral Guarinos,"-the same which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza are described as hearing sung by a labourer going to his work, at day-break," in one of the most beautiful pas sages that can be pointed out in the whole of the Romance. 66 GUARINOS. "The day of Roncesvalles was a dismal day for you, Ye men of France, for there the lance of King Charles was broke in two. In fray or fight the dust did bite, beneath Bernardo's spear. There captured was Guarinos, King Charles's admiral; Seven Moorish kings surrounded him, and seized him for their thrall; Much joy had then Marlotes, and his captive much did prize, The one shall be thy waiting-maid, thy weary feet to lave, And my field and my city they both shall be her dower. "If more thou wishest, more I'll give speak boldly what thy thought is.' Thus earnestly and kindly to Guarinos said Marotes; But not a moment did he take to ponder or to pause, Thus clear and quick the answer of the Christian Captain was: |