But, in spite of Ferrando's caution, the Count de Luna never recovered from the loss of his little one, but died of grief a short time after; and as he lay dying, he besought his elder son to still continue the search for the stolen child. The young Count remembered his father's wish, and as he grew up to manhood, he never ceased to make inquiries for his missing brother in every place he visited.
Meanwhile the stolen child was living the free and happy life of a gipsy in the mountains of Biscaglia. He was given the name of Manrico; and as he was led from the very first to look upon Azucena as his mother, he had no idea of his true and exalted birth.
He loved his supposed mother with great devotion, and as the years went on, and he grew up into a handsome and noble youth, Azucena felt as proud of her adopted son as though he had indeed been her own.
Manrico, being both brave and daring in disposition, very early had the craving for adventure, and as soon as he had learned how to wield a sword with skill, he left the gipsy band and went off to the wars to seek glory and renown. Success smiled on him from the first, and the brave youth, after distinguishing himself in several campaigns, was spoken of with honour and respect wherever he went.
After many wanderings, Manrico at length found himself with the army he had joined—whose cause he felt to be a just one—engaged in settling a dispute with the powerful kingdom of Arragon; and learning that a grand Tournament was to be held in this very country, he determined to enter the lists himself. So, having donned a suit of black armour, with an unblazoned shield, he rode off to the Tournament, where he soon covered himself with glory; for his valour and skill was so great that he carried all before him, and none could overcome him in single combat.
When the Tournament came to an end, Manrico was consequently awarded the victor's wreath of laurel; and the brave youth knelt to be crowned by the fair hands of the lovely Lady Leonora, who had been chosen to give away the prizes.
Now, this Lady Leonora was the most beautiful of all the fair and noble ladies in attendance upon the Queen of Arragon; and as Manrico gazed upwards into her tender dark eyes, a thrill of love and admiration ran through his whole being, and he felt that she would reign in his heart for ever.
When he returned to his camp, he thought of her constantly, and at last the longing to see, or at least be near to her once again, became so strong within him, that (although he well knew, being of but humble gipsy-birth, as he supposed, he could not aspire to the hand of a high-born lady) he determined to let her know of his love and devotion.
So, every evening, clad in the garb of a Troubadour, he made his way to the palace of Aliaferia, where the Queen of Arragon held Court; and there, beneath the window of his lady-love, he sang a sweet, passionate serenade, to the accompaniment of a soft-toned harp.
Nor was Leonora insensible to these tender strains that nightly swelled beneath her window; for she, too, had constantly thought upon Manrico, whose valour and noble appearance had won her heart at the Tournament.