But Vamba, full of astonishment, and at a loss to understand them, thought they must want to kill him; and exclaimed, trembling, “Spare my life, Señores! Why do you seek to take it?”
But they answered, “We have no such thought, Vamba. Far from it. The Pope who now reigns in Rome told us that you were to be our king; and our king you must therefore be.”
But Vamba, who could not believe they were serious, stuck the vara[1] he held in his hand for a goad, into the ground; and said, laughing, “When my vara shall take root, and bring forth flowers, then will I believe that I am King of Spain!”
Then, behold! before he had finished speaking, the vara became covered with leaves, and from its branches sprang beautiful flowers.
When Vamba saw that, he hesitated no longer; but called his wife Sancha, and his children, and went along with the envoys to Toledo, which was the capital of the kingdom of the Goths.
The envoys sent messengers on before, to tell the Council of the kingdom that the king was coming. The Council rose in a body, and went out to meet him; and all the people followed behind, and the joy-bells were set ringing.
Thus King Vamba made his entrance by the Gate of Cambron, the noblest gate adorning great Toledo; but when he saw the Alcaide of his palace bearing the sword before him according to custom, he begged, in his humility, that he would not bear a sword, but that his children might go before him to show that he loved peace and love, rather than war and strife; and so he went on into the city.
And all the people looked out of their balconies, and cried,—
“Toledo and Spain for Vamba!
And also for Queen Sancha!”