I.
All in the centre of the choir Bernardo's knees are bent,
Before him for his murdered sire yawns the old monument.
II.
His kinsmen of the Carpio blood are kneeling at his back,
With knightly friends and vassals good, all garbed in weeds of black.
III.
He comes to make the obsequies of a basely slaughtered man,
And tears are running down from eyes whence ne'er before they ran.
IV.
His head is bowed upon the stone; his heart, albeit full sore,
Is strong as when in days bygone he rode o'er Frank and Moor;
V.
And now between his teeth he mutters, that none his words can hear;
And now the voice of wrath he utters, in curses loud and clear.
VI.
He stoops him o'er his father's shroud, his lips salute the bier;
He communes with the corse aloud, as if none else were near.
VII.
His right hand doth his sword unsheath, his left doth pluck his beard;—
And while his liegemen held their breath, these were the words they heard:—
VIII.
"Go up, go up, thou blessed ghost, into the arms of God;
Go, fear not lest revenge be lost, when Carpio's blood hath flowed;
IX.
"The steel that drank the blood of France, the arm thy foe that shielded,
Still, Father, thirsts that burning lance, and still thy son can wield it."

BERNARDO AND ALPHONSO.

The incident recorded in this ballad may be supposed to have occurred immediately after the funeral of the Count of Saldenha. As to what was the end of the knight's history, we are left almost entirely in the dark, both by the Chronicle and by the Romancero. It appears to be intimated, that after his father's death, he once more "took service" among the Moors, who are represented in several of the ballads as accustomed to exchange offices of courtesy with Bernardo.

I.
With some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appeared
Before them all in the palace hall, the lying King to beard;
With cap in hand and eye on ground, he came in reverend guise,
But ever and anon he frowned, and flame broke from his eyes.
II.
"A curse upon thee," cries the King, "who comest unbid to me;
But what from traitor's blood should spring, save traitors like to thee?
His sire, Lords, had a traitor's heart; perchance our Champion brave
Made think it were a pious part to share Don Sancho's grave."
III.
"Whoever told this tale the King hath rashness to repeat,"
Cries Bernard, "here my gage I fling before the liar's feet!
No treason was in Sancho's blood, no stain in mine doth lie—
Below the throne what knight will own the coward calumny?
IV.
"The blood that I like water shed, when Roland did advance,
By secret traitors hired and led, to make us slaves of France;—
The life of King Alphonso I saved at Roncesval,—
Your words, Lord King, are recompense abundant for it all.
V.
"Your horse was down—your hope was flown—I saw the falchion shine,
That soon had drunk your royal blood, had not I ventured mine;
But memory soon of service done deserteth the ingrate,
And ye've thanked the son for life and crown by the father's bloody fate.
VI.
"Ye swore upon your kingly faith, to set Don Sancho free,
But curse upon your paltering breath, the light he ne'er did see;
He died in dungeon cold and dim, by Alphonso's base decree,
And visage blind, and stiffened limb, were all they gave to me.
VII.
"The King that swerveth from his word hath stained his purple black,
No Spanish Lord will draw the sword behind a Liar's back;
But noble vengeance shall be mine, an open hate I'll show—
The King hath injured Carpio's line, and Bernard is his foe."
VIII.
"Seize—seize him!"—loud the King doth scream—"There are a thousand here—
Let his foul blood this instant stream—What! Caitiffs, do ye fear?
Seize—seize the traitor!"—But not one to move a finger dareth,—
Bernardo standeth by the throne, and calm his sword he bareth.
IX.
He drew the falchion from the sheath, and held it up on high,
And all the hall was still as death:—cries Bernard, "Here am I,
And here is the sword that owns no lord, excepting heaven and me;
Fain would I know who dares his point—King, Condé, or Grandee."
X.
Then to his mouth the horn he drew—(it hung below his cloak)
His ten true men the signal knew, and through the ring they broke;
With helm on head, and blade in hand, the knights the circle brake,
And back the lordlings 'gan to stand, and the false king to quake.
XI.
"Ha! Bernard," quoth Alphonso, "what means this warlike guise?
Ye know full well I jested—ye know your worth I prize."—
But Bernard turned upon his heel, and smiling passed away—
Long rued Alphonso and his realm the jesting of that day.

PART II.

THE YOUNG CID.

The Ballads in the Collection of Escobar, entitled "Romancero e Historia del muy valeroso Cavallero El Cid Ruy Diaz de Bivar," are said by Mr. Southey to be in general possessed of but little merit. Notwithstanding the opinion of that great scholar and poet, I have had much pleasure in reading them; and have translated a very few, which may serve, perhaps, as a sufficient specimen.

The following is a version of that which stands fifth in Escobar:—
Cavalga Diego Laynez al buen Rey besar la mano, &c.

I.
Now rides Diego Laynez, to kiss the good King's hand,
Three hundred men of gentry go with him from his land,
Among them, young Rodrigo, the proud Knight of Bivar;
The rest on mules are mounted, he on his horse of war.
II.
They ride in glittering gowns of soye,—He harnessed like a lord;
There is no gold about the boy, but the crosslet of his sword;
The rest have gloves of sweet perfume,—He gauntlets strong of mail;
They broidered caps and flaunting plume,—He crest untaught to quail
III.
All talking with each other thus along their way they passed,
But now they've come to Burgos, and met the King at last;
When they came near his nobles, a whisper through them ran,—
"He rides amidst the gentry that slew the Count Lozan."—
IV.
With very haughty gesture Rodrigo reined his horse,
Right scornfully he shouted, when he heard them so discourse,—
"If any of his kinsmen or vassals dare appear,
The man to give them answer, on horse or foot, is here."—
V.
"The devil ask the question!" thus muttered all the band;—
With that they all alighted, to kiss the good King's hand,—
All but the proud Rodrigo, he in his saddle stayed,—
Then turned to him his father (you may hear the words he said).
VI.
"Now, light, my son, I pray thee, and kiss the good King's hand,
He is our lord, Rodrigo; we hold of him our land."—
But when Rodrigo heard him, he looked in sulky sort,—
I wot the words he answered they were both cold and short.
VII.
"Had any other said it, his pains had well been paid,
But thou, sir, art my father, thy word must be obeyed."—
With that he sprung down lightly, before the King to kneel,
But as the knee was bending, out leapt his blade of steel.
VIII.
The King drew back in terror, when he saw the sword was bare;
"Stand back, stand back, Rodrigo, in the devil's name beware,
Your looks bespeak a creature of father Adam's mould,
But in your wild behaviour you're like some lion bold."
IX.
When Rodrigo heard him say so, he leapt into his seat,
And thence he made his answer, with visage nothing sweet,—
"I'd think it little honour to kiss a kingly palm,
And if my fathers kissed it, thereof ashamed I am."—
X.
When he these words had uttered, he turned him from the gate,
His true three hundred gentles behind him followed straight;
If with good gowns they came that day, with better arms they went;
And if their mules behind did stay, with horses they're content.

XIMENA DEMANDS VENGEANCE.