"Rejoice, O Cesar, for you have already your Suetonius, to write your history," said the old man, laughing, and all the others joined with him.
"Good Gil," said Rodrigo, "wait until we return to Vivar, and there I will teach you, if not how to write histories of cavaliers, at least how cavaliers should act, so that their memory may never die."
"And when shall we return to Vivar?" asked Ximena; "when, Rodrigo, will you forget arms, in order to consecrate yourself entirely to our love?"
"It appears to me that that day is not very distant," answered Rodrigo. "Don Alfonso is about to assume the crown of Castile; Castile and Leon will then form but one kingdom, and peace will be the result of the union of both crowns. The day on which they hang up banners in Castile, to honour Don Alfonso VI., will be that on which we shall leave the Court and return to Vivar, where all of us will enjoy the tranquillity which the anxieties of courts banish."
[CHAPTER XLVI]
THE OATH IN SANTA GADEA
There is unusual excitement in Burgos; very many persons crowd in from the neighbouring villages on all sides of the city, and streets and squares are thronged by the crowds, on whose visages both fear and curiosity are expressed. The place, however, where the crush is greatest, is outside the city, in the direction of the Leon road; many thousands of people of all ages and conditions hasten thither, and direct their looks, with avidity, towards a road which, at about half-an-hour's walk from the city, becomes lost on the summit of a hill, which limits the horizon. Whom do those people of Burgos expect? Let us see if, amongst the crowds, we can find any of our old acquaintances, who may be able to fully satisfy our curiosity. Men and women, nobles, peasants, and townspeople are everywhere, in the centre of the road, and on the raised banks beside it, on the trees and on the adjacent hills, all impatient, and all weary already of waiting; however, we see no one that we know, not even the peasant from Barbadillo, whose curiosity is as proverbial in Burgos as that of his friend Iñigo, and whose conjugal affairs amuse so much the townspeople, since the day they saw him disown his wife at the door of the mansion of the lords of Vivar. But is not that his wife,—the wife of Bartolo,—that handsome peasant woman, who is walking with a young man on the summit of the low hill? Yes, it is she. And is not Alvar the youth who is in such good humour, and who is laughing with her? It is Alvar, no doubt of that. She does not now seem disposed to refuse, with blows, as she used to do at the smithy of Iñigo, the flowers which the daring page presented to her.
"It is a long time now," said Alvar, "that I sigh for you and bear the insults of your husband, and you have not rewarded me even with a little embrace! Tyrant! Does a lover, as faithful as I have been, merit such poor pay? Does my love, perchance, displease you?"
"I only wish I were not a married woman, as you are such a gentle youth, and not a fool like my husband; but, as long as Bartolo lives, your efforts will be in vain, and those also of the squire, Fernan, who makes love to me, as well as you."