The story of Gayfer de Bourdeaux is to be found at great length in the Romantic Chronicle of Charlemagne; and it has supplied the Spanish minstrels with subjects for a long series of ballads.

In that which follows, Gayferos, yet a boy, is represented as hearing from his mother the circumstances of his father's death; and as narrowly escaping with his own life, in consequence of his stepfather's cruelty.

I.
Before her knee the boy did stand, within the dais so fair,
The golden shears were in her hand, to clip his curlèd hair;
And ever as she clipped the curls, such doleful words she spake,
That tears ran from Gayferos' eyes, for his sad mother's sake.
II.
"God grant a beard were on thy face, and strength thine arm within,
To fling a spear, or swing a mace, like Roland Paladin!
For then, I think, thou wouldst avenge thy father that is dead,
Whom envious traitors slaughtered within thy mother's bed.
III.
"Their bridal-gifts were rich and rare, that hate might not be seen;
They cut me garments broad and fair—none fairer hath the Queen."—
Then out and spake the little boy—"Each night to God I call,
And to his blessèd Mother, to make me strong and tall!"—
IV.
The Count he heard Gayferos, in the palace where he lay;—
"Now silence, silence, Countess! it is falsehood that you say;
I neither slew the man, nor hired another's sword to slay;—
But, for that the mother hath desired, be sure the son shall pay!"
V.
The Count called to his esquires, (old followers were they,
Whom the dead Lord had nurtured for many a merry day)—
He bade them take their old Lord's heir, and stop his tender breath—
Alas! 'twas piteous but to hear the manner of that death.
VI.
"List, esquires, list, for my command is offspring of mine oath—
The stirrup-foot and the hilt-hand see that ye sunder both;—
That ye cut out his eyes 'twere best—the safer he will go—
And bring a finger and the heart, that I his end may know."—
VII.
The esquires took the little boy aside with them to go;
Yet, as they went, they did repent—"O God! must this be so?
How shall we think to look for grace, if this poor child we slay,
When ranged before Christ Jesu's face at the great judgment day?"—
VIII.
While they, not knowing what to do, were standing in such talk,
The Countess' little lap-dog bitch by chance did cross their walk;
Then out and spake one of the 'squires, (you may hear the words he said,)
"I think the coming of this bitch may serve us in good stead—
IX.
"Let us take out the bitch's heart, and give it to Galvan;
The boy may with a finger part, and be no worser man."—
With that they cut the joint away, and whispered in his ear,
That he must wander many a day, nor once those parts come near.
X.
"Your uncle grace and love will show; he is a bounteous man;"—
And so they let Gayferos go, and turned them to Galvan.
The heart and the small finger upon the board they laid,
And of Gayferos' slaughter a cunning story made.
XI.
The Countess, when she hears them, in great grief loudly cries:
Meantime the stripling safely unto his uncle hies:—
"Now welcome, my fair boy," he said, "what good news may they be
Come with thee to thine uncle's hall?"—"Sad tidings come with me—
XII.
"The false Galvan had laid his plan to have me in my grave;
But I've escaped him, and am here, my boon from thee to crave:
Rise up, rise up, mine uncle, thy brother's blood they've shed;
Rise up—they've slain my father within my mother's bed.[2]

MELISENDRA.

The following is a version of another of the ballads concerning Gayferos. It is the same that is quoted in the chapter of the Puppet-show in Don Quixote.

"'Child, child,' said Don Quixote, 'go on directly with your story, and don't keep us here with your excursions and ramblings out of the road. I tell you there must be a formal process, and legal trial, to prove matters of fact.'— 'Boy,' said the master from behind the show, 'do as the gentleman bids you. Don't run so much upon flourishes, but follow your plain song, without venturing on counterpoints, for fear of spoiling all'—'I will, sir,' quoth the boy, and so proceeding: 'Now, sirs, he that you see there a-horseback, wrapt up in the Gascoign-cloak, is Don Gayferos himself, whom his wife, now revenged on the Moor for his impudence, seeing from the battlements of the tower, takes him for a stranger, and talks with him as such, according to the ballad,

'Quoth Melisendra, if perchance,
Sir Traveller, you go for France,
For pity's sake, ask when you're there,
For Gayferos, my husband dear.'

"'I omit the rest, not to tire you with a long story. It is sufficient that he makes himself known to her, as you may guess by the joy she shows; and, accordingly, now see how she lets herself down from the balcony, to come at her loving husband, and get behind him; but, unhappily, alas! one of the skirts of her gown is caught upon one of the spikes of the balcony, and there she hangs and hovers in the air miserably, without being able to get down. But see how Heaven is merciful, and sends relief in the greatest distress! Now Don Gayferos rides up to her, and, not fearing to tear her rich gown, lays hold on it, and at one pull brings her down; and then at one lift sets her astride upon his horse's crupper, bidding her to sit fast, and clap her arms about him, that she might not fall; for the lady Melisendra was not used to that kind of riding.

"'Observe now, gallants, how the horse neighs, and shows how proud he is of the burden of his brave master and fair mistress. Look, now, how they turn their backs, and leave the city, and gallop it merrily away towards Paris. Peace be with you, for a peerless couple of true lovers! may ye get safe and sound into your own country, without any lett or ill chance in your journey, and live as long as Nestor, in peace and quietness among your friends and relations.'—'Plainness, boy!' cried Master Peter, 'none of your flights, I beseech you, for affectation is the devil.'—The boy answered nothing, but going on: 'Now, sirs,' quoth he, 'some of those idle people, that love to pry into everything, happened to spy Melisendra as she was making her escape, and ran presently and gave Marsilius notice of it; whereupon he straight commanded to sound an alarm; and now mind what a din and hurly-burly there is, and how the city shakes with the ring of the bells backwards in all the mosques!'—'There you are out, boy,' said Don Quixote; 'the Moors have no bells, they only use kettle-drums, and a kind of shaulms like our waits or hautboys; so that your ringing of bells in Sansueña is a mere absurdity, good Master Peter.'—'Nay, sir,' said Master Peter, giving over ringing, 'if you stand upon these trifles with us, we shall never please you. Don't be so severe a critic. Are there not a thousand plays that pass with great success and applause, though they have many greater absurdities, and nonsense in abundance? On, boy, on, let there be as many impertinences as motes in the sun; no matter, so I get the money.'—'Well said,' answered Don Quixote.—'And now, sirs,' quoth the boy, 'observe what a vast company of glittering horse comes pouring out of the city, in pursuit of the Christian lovers; what a dreadful sound of trumpets, and clarions, and drums, and kettle-drums there is in the air. I fear they will overtake them, and then will the poor wretches be dragged along most barbarously at the tails of their horses, which would be sad indeed.'

"Don Quixote, seeing such a number of Moors, and hearing such an alarm, thought it high time to assist the flying lovers; and starting up, 'It shall never be said while I live,' cried he aloud, 'that I suffered such a wrong to be done to so famous a knight and so daring a lover as Don Gayferos. Forbear, then, your unjust pursuit, ye base-born rascals! Stop, or prepare to meet my furious resentment!' Then drawing out his sword, to make good his threats, at one spring he gets to the show, and with a violent fury lays at the Moorish puppets, cutting and slashing in a most terrible manner: some he overthrows, and beheads others; maims this, and cleaves that in pieces. Among the rest of his merciless strokes, he thundered one down with such a mighty force, that had not Master Peter luckily ducked and squatted down, it had certainly chopped off his head as easily as one might cut an apple."