When she heard the sweet notes of the bold serenader for the first time, she remembered his voice, and a thrill of joy went through her as, flying to the open lattice, she recognised in the Troubadour below the form of her brave hero. Manrico was filled with rapture when he found that Leonora did not despise his love; and after this the lovers frequently met for a few blissful moments in the palace gardens after darkness had fallen, caring naught for the risk they ran.
But Leonora had another suitor, who quickly grew madly jealous of the mysterious Troubadour who was known to haunt the palace grounds, though none had yet beheld him.
This was none other than the young Count de Luna, who, upon attaining to manhood, had risen high in favour at the Court of Arragon; and having fallen in love with the beautiful Leonora, he had early offered himself as a suitor. And even when the fair lady-in-waiting, having no thoughts for any other than her beloved Troubadour, refused to smile upon him, the Count still continued to press his suit; and full of haughty anger against his unknown rival, he also went to walk in the palace gardens at night, in the hope of encountering the favoured Troubadour, whom he little dreamed was his own long-lost brother.
So it happened one night, as he stood beneath Leonora's window, he heard the soft strains of a harp, and following the sounds, presently beheld the noble form of the young Troubadour standing in a secluded dell, with the moonlight shining upon him. At the same moment, Leonora herself appeared, and, addressing her lover in tender tones, declared that she loved him with her whole heart.
Full of jealous rage, the Count de Luna sprang between the lovers, and haughtily called upon the Troubadour to declare his name; and on hearing that his hated rival was none other than the renowned Manrico, the enemy of his country, he at once challenged him to mortal combat.
In fear for her lover's life, Leonora begged them not to fight; but, rivals in love and war, the pair were not to be put asunder, and rushing off to a more distant spot, they began a passionate duel. Although, as the swords clashed together, the proud Count boastfully taunted his youthful rival with lack of courage and skill, he soon discovered that he had met his match; for in a few minutes Manrico had disarmed his enemy, and held him at his sword's point. Some strange inward power, and a sudden feeling of mercy, restrained him, however, from striking the fatal blow, and, sheathing his sword, he allowed the dazed Count to rise and depart.
Soon after this event, the war was continued, and in a great battle, the army in which Manrico served was defeated. Even when he saw that all was lost, the brave Manrico still tried to rally his forces; but at length, in a desperate struggle against a mighty charge of the enemy, led by the Count de Luna, he fell, badly wounded, and was left upon the field for dead.
But it happened that Azucena, the gipsy, was camping in the neighbourhood, with some members of her tribe; and hearing that her brave Manrico had been slain in the battle, she went to look for his body amongst the dead. After a long and weary search she at length found the poor youth, covered with wounds, but, to her joy, still alive; and after binding up his hurts, she had him carried away to his old home in the mountains of Biscaglia.
Here, with great tenderness, she nursed him back to health and strength once more; and since Manrico had been absent at the wars a long time, the reunion was very sweet to her, for she had grown to love him as her own son. Yet when Manrico told her of his two meetings with the Count de Luna, all her old desire to avenge her mother came back with renewed force, and she implored him to slay the young Count the next time he had him in his power. She then told him the story of how her mother had been so cruelly burned as a witch, and of the dreadful mistake she herself had made when seeking vengeance; but as she did not inform Manrico that he was that same stolen child, he still regarded himself as her son.
Whilst they were talking of these things one day, a courier arrived from the wars with a message for the young soldier, announcing that his arms had again met with success, and that the prince in command now desired Manrico to take over the defence of the fortress of Castellor, which was about to be stormed by the enemy. The message had been written by a friend of Manrico's, an officer named Ruiz, and at the end he stated that the Lady Leonora, hearing that her Troubadour lover had been killed in battle, was now about to enter a convent near the fortress.