Hark! the king demands a safe pass for Ernani. He still thinks the eagle should not injure the worm. See, the bandit passes away, out to freedom. The king is gracious, the don trembles, and the Lady Elvira is presented to the king in due form and courtesy.
Part II.—The Guest.
With the next day’s sun came Elvira’s marriage day. No hope of flight—fate was against her, and so her envious women dress her for the sacrifice.
The great hall of the castle is filling with lords and ladies, retainers and vassals. There is a sudden stir—’tis the entrance of the duke, dressed grandly, and wearing all his orders. He walks gravely to his grandee’s chair, and sits down as the crowd do homage.
In those days—four hundred years ago—it was the custom to give shelter to any pilgrim who should demand it. Hence scarcely a day passed without “the castle” containing many guests of this sort.
The don had hardly sat down when a servant approached and said that a pilgrim was at the gate, craving hospitality.
Gravely and readily was given the order to let the pilgrim enter. The next moment a tall, upright man, dressed in the pilgrim’s loose sombre dress, came forward and up to the don as he sat in state.
“I greet thee, noble knight.”
“Good pilgrim, be at ease. Nor whence thou comest, nor who thou art, we do not ask. Be welcome for this day and night. My hospitality I promise thee.”