Seven turbans green, sore hack’d, I ween, before Don Garci hung.
This last verse shows how strongly Lockhart was indebted to Scott for the spirit and style of his compositions.[2]
Pedro the Cruel
We come now to those ballads which recount the vivid but sanguinary history of Don Pedro the Cruel. Many attempts have been made to prove that Pedro was by no means such an inhuman monster as the balladeers would have us believe. But probability seems to be on the side of the singers rather than on that of the modern historians, who have done their best to remove the stain of his ferocious acts from Pedro’s abhorred name. His first act of atrocity was that celebrated in the ballad entitled “The Master of St Iago,” which refers to his illegitimate brother. On the death of that nobleman, his father, well aware of Pedro’s vindictive temperament, fled to the city of Coimbra, in Portugal. But, believing Pedro’s asseverations that he had no intention of offering him violence, he accepted his invitation to the Court of Seville, where a gallant tournament was about to be held. No sooner had he arrived, however, than he was secretly put to death (1358), it is believed at the instance of the notorious Maria de Padilla, Pedro’s mistress.
“Stand off, stand off, thou traitor strong,” ’twas thus he said to me.
“Thy time on earth shall not be long—what brings thee to my knee?
My lady craves a New Year’s gift, and I will keep my word;
Thy head, methinks, may serve the shift—Good yeoman, draw thy sword.”
The ballad recounts how Pedro, relenting somewhat, imprisoned the false Maria de Padilla, but there is no evidence that she either suggested the crime or suffered for it. Mr Fitzmaurice Kelly gives it as his opinion that the dramatic power of the romance is undeniable. Had he spoken of its melodramatic power I might feel inclined to agree with him.