Mediaeval Tales Part 14

V.

Behind him rode the leprous man; when to their hostelrie They came, he made him eat with him at table cheerfully; While all the rest from that poor guest with loathing shrunk away, To his own bed the wretch he led, beside him there he lay.

VI.

All at the mid-hour of the night, while good Rodrigo slept, A breath came from the leprous man, it through his shoulders crept; Right through the body, at the breast, pa.s.sed forth that breathing cold; I wot he leaped up with a start, in terrors manifold.

VII.

He groped for him in the bed, but him he could not find, Through the dark chamber groped he, with very anxious mind; Loudly he lifted up his voice, with speed a lamp was brought, Yet nowhere was the leper seen, though far and near they sought.

VIII.

He turned him to his chamber, G.o.d wot, perplexed sore With that which had befallen--when lo! his face before, There stood a man, all clothed in vesture s.h.i.+ning white: Thus said the vision, "Sleepest thou, or wakest thou, Sir Knight?"--

IX.

"I sleep not," quoth Rodrigo; "but tell me who art thou, For, in the midst of darkness, much light is on thy brow?"-- "I am the holy Lazarus, I come to speak with thee; I am the same poor leper thou savedst for charity.

X.

"Not vain the trial, nor in vain thy victory hath been; G.o.d favours thee, for that my pain thou didst relieve yestreen.

There shall be honour with thee, in battle and in peace, Success in all thy doings, and plentiful increase.

XI.

"Strong enemies shall not prevail, thy greatness to undo; Thy name shall make men's cheeks full pale--Christians and Moslem too; A death of honour shalt thou die, such grace to thee is given, Thy soul shall part victoriously, and be received in heaven."--

XII.

When he these gracious words had said, the spirit vanished quite, Rodrigo rose and knelt him down--he knelt till morning light; Unto the Heavenly Father, and Mary Mother dear, He made his prayer right humbly, till dawned the morning clear.

BAVIECA.

Montaigne, in his curious Essay, ent.i.tled "Des Destriers," says that all the world knows everything about Bucephalus. The name of the favourite charger of the Cid Ruy Diaz, is scarcely less celebrated. Notice is taken of him in almost every one of the hundred ballads concerning the history of his master,--and there are two or three of these, of which the horse is more truly the hero than his rider. In one of these ballads, the Cid is giving directions about his funeral; he desires that they shall place his body "in full armour upon Bavieca," and so conduct him to the church of San Pedro de Cardena. This was done accordingly; and, says another ballad--

Truxeron pues a Babieca; Y en mirandole se puso Tan triste como si fuera Mas rasonable que bruto.

In the Cid's last will, mention is also made of this n.o.ble charger.

"When ye bury Bavieca, dig deep," says Ruy Diaz; "for shameful thing were it, that he should be eat by curs, who hath trampled down so much currish flesh of Moors."

I.

The King looked on him kindly, as on a va.s.sal true; Then to the King Ruy Diaz spake after reverence due,-- "O King, the thing is shameful, that any man beside The liege lord of Castile himself should Bavieca ride:

II.

"For neither Spain nor Araby could another charger bring So good as he, and certes, the best befits my King.

But that you may behold him, and know him to the core, I'll make him go as he was wont when his nostrils smelt the Moor."--

III.

With that, the Cid, clad as he was in mantle furred and wide, On Bavieca vaulting, put the rowel in his side; And up and down, and round and round, so fierce was his career, Streamed like a pennon on the wind Ruy Diaz' minivere.

IV.

And all that saw them praised them--they lauded man and horse, As matched well, and rivalless for gallantry and force; Ne'er had they looked on horseman might to this knight come near, Nor on other charger worthy of such a cavalier.

V.

Thus, to and fro a-rus.h.i.+ng the fierce and furious steed, He snapt in twain his. .h.i.ther rein:--"G.o.d pity now the Cid."

"G.o.d pity Diaz," cried the Lords,--but when they looked again, They saw Ruy Diaz ruling him, with the fragment of his rein; They saw him proudly ruling with gesture firm and calm, Like a true lord commanding--and obeyed as by a lamb.

VI.

And so he led him foaming and panting to the King, But "No," said Don Alphonso, "it were a shameful thing That peerless Bavieca should ever be bestrid By any mortal but Bivar--Mount, mount again, my Cid."

THE EXCOMMUNICATION OF THE CID.

The last specimen I shall give of the Cid-ballad, is one the subject of which is evidently of the most apocryphal cast. It is, however, so far as I recollect, the only one of all that immense collection that is quoted or alluded to in Don Quixote. "Sancho," cried Don Quixote, "I am afraid of being excommunicated for having laid violent hands upon a man in holy orders, _Juxta illud; si quis suadente diabolo_, &c. But yet, now I think on it, I never touched him with my hands, but only with my lance; besides, I did not in the least suspect I had to do with priests, whom I honour and revere as every good Catholic and faithful Christian ought to do, but rather took them to be evil spirits. Well, let the worst come to the worst, I remember what befel the Cid Ruy Diaz, when he broke to pieces the chair of a king's amba.s.sador in the Pope's presence, for which he was excommunicated; which did not hinder the worthy Rodrigo de Bivar from behaving himself that day like a valorous knight, and a man of honour."

I.

It was when from Spain across the main the Cid had come to Rome, He chanced to see chairs four and three beneath Saint Peter's dome.

"Now tell, I pray, what chairs be they;"--"Seven kings do sit thereon, As well doth suit, all at the foot of the holy Father's throne."

II.

"The Pope he sitteth above them all, that they may kiss his toe, Below the keys the Flower-de-lys doth make a gallant show: For his great puissance, the King of France next to the Pope may sit, The rest more low, all in a row, as doth their station fit."--

III.

"Ha!" quoth the Cid, "now G.o.d forbid! it is a shame, I wiss, To see the Castle[5] planted beneath the Flower-de-lys.[6]

No harm, I hope, good Father Pope--although I move thy chair."

--In pieces small he kicked it all, ('twas of the ivory fair).

IV.

The Pope's own seat he from his feet did kick it far away, And the Spanish chair he planted upon its place that day; Above them all he planted it, and laughed right bitterly; Looks sour and bad I trow he had, as grim as grim might be.