"De Vivar, if he is not my friend, is also not my enemy," replied Don Garcia, the words of Don Suero not having changed in the least his habitual calmness; and he added, with a smile, slightly sarcastic: "Does it appear to you that it is fitting for one good cavalier, as I consider myself to be, to envy the good fortune of another cavalier, much less to injure one who has never done me a wrong? Let that be for you, good count, let you thwart the plans of De Vivar, as you are his mortal enemy, on account of insults which one who prides himself on being a noble and a cavalier should never forget. I, far from disapproving of the enmity you bear to Don Rodrigo, and your intention to endeavour to prevent his rise, sincerely applaud it. If I were in your position, I would wage a war, without truce, against De Vivar; I would sacrifice my repose, my property, even my life, to the avenging of my honour,—for it must be confessed that you have been cruelly outraged by Rodrigo Diaz. Who in Castile and Leon does not remember the proclamations he caused to be posted about, branding you as a coward and a felon? Go through the country places and the towns of Castile, and you will hear the people singing gentle ballads, in which those proclamations of De Vivar are amplified and improved on"—
"Cease, Don Garcia, be silent, for the fire of hell is burning in my breast!" exclaimed Don Suero, stamping so violently on the floor that it vibrated.
"Pardon me," continued Don Garcia, "but as your friend, knowing that you do not often go far from your castle, and therefore are ignorant of what is said of you, I thought it well to inform you, so that you might take steps to punish the offenders. If you had travelled hither with me from Burgos you could have heard the rustics chanting the ballads I have mentioned. Just listen, in order that you may have some idea of the malice of the Castilian peasants; listen to what I heard sung shortly after I left Burgos."
And the count repeated, in that monotonous and melancholy chant with which the women of Castile lull their infants to sleep—
"In Carrion, in its Castle,
At his dinner seated,
Was its owner, Don Suero,
That disloyal count.
Pages, elegant and young,
Served to him his cup,
And in the polished cup
Was wine to make him drunk.
The count is fond of wine,
But dreads to shed his blood."
"Earth, earth! Open and bury me in your depths!" roared Don Suero, writhing as if he were suffering the torments of the damned. "Be silent, Don Garcia! I would throw myself from this window, or plunge a dagger into my heart, if it were not necessary to live in order to bury it in the breasts of those who thus calumniate me and scoff at me."
"I like to see you thus, enraged when insulted," said the Count of Cabra, clasping the hand of Don Suero, whose veins had swelled to such an extent that they appeared as if they were about to burst; whose eyes were injected with blood, and from whose mouth foam was oozing, as from that of an infuriated wild beast,—"thus do I like to see you, enraged and not resigned."
And Don Garcia continued—
"Envoys, sent by Don Rodrigo,
Castile's bravest cavalier,—
Born in a lucky hour,
Fearing no one in the world,—
Then announced to him their message,
And these words to him they spake:
'Don Suero, brave Rodrigo,
The good cavalier of Vivar,
Calls you forth, for having libelled
Him; for having called him coward.
If you don't accept his challenge,
Cavalier no more are you.
Buckle on the spur no longer,
Never mount again a charger,
Eat no white bread at your table,
Ne'er divert yourself with ladies.'
'Now depart from this, ye envoys,
Bear the message to your master,
That he may do as he pleases;
On the field I shall not meet him.'
Thus then spake Count Don Suero,
That disloyal cavalier;
And he turned to his pages,
To receive his sparkling cup;
For the count is fond of wine,
But he is not fond of blood."