The Red Romance Book Part 17

Sir Amys did as his brother bade him, and Sir Amyle hastened with all speed to the duke's palace.

He was only just in time. The hour for the fight had come, and the steward had entered the lists, and, looking round in triumph, proclaimed to all whom it might concern that his adversary knew himself to be a traitor to his lord, and had fled. Therefore, according to all the rules of chivalry, a fire should be made, and his sureties burned before all the people.

At these dreadful words, the hearts of the king and his wife and daughter trembled within them. For the steward had spoken truly, and the order for the execution must be given. It was in vain that the men worked right slowly; linger as they might, the pile was ready at last, and with one despairing glance round, the d.u.c.h.ess and her daughter were bravely walking up to it, when Sir Amyle hastily pushed his way to the duke and demanded that the captives should be instantly set free. Then, followed by the d.u.c.h.ess and Belisante, he entered the palace to gird himself with the armour of Sir Amys.

When his helmet and sword were buckled on him, he prayed them to leave him, as he would fain be alone for a short s.p.a.ce before he mounted his horse. So the two ladies embraced him and left him, wishing him G.o.d-speed. As the door closed upon them, Sir Amyle held up his sword and muttered a prayer before it.

'Come weal or woe, I will help my brother,' he said softly; then mounting his horse he rode into the lists, and, kneeling, took the oath that he was guiltless of wrong and would prove his innocence on the body of his foe.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SIR AMYLE ARRIVES IN TIME TO SAVE THE LADIES]

The fight lasted but a short time; the steward's sword was keen, and he knew how to use it, and it was not long before he had given Sir Amyle a sharp thrust through the shoulder, and the young knight reeled in his saddle. The steward uttered a cry of fierce joy, and raised his arm to deal a second blow, when Sir Amyle suddenly spurred his horse to one side and pierced his enemy to the heart. Then, all bleeding as he was, the false Amys cut off the head of the traitor, and gave it to the duke, proving to him and to all the court that the right had conquered.

But hardly had he done so when, faint from loss of blood, he fell senseless on the ground, and was carried into the palace, where the duke's best leeches were called in to attend him. In a few days the fever left him, and he was able to receive a visit from the duke himself.

'O Amys, my friend, how I have misjudged you!' cried the duke, falling on his knees weeping; 'but I will let my people know that you were always true, and you shall marry my daughter as soon as you can stand upon your feet, and I will hold a feast, and proclaim you heir to my duchy.'

And the wounded man gave him thanks and grace, but sent off a messenger in all haste to Sir Amys, bidding him be by a spring in the forest, nine days hence, which message Sir Amys obeyed, wondering what had pa.s.sed.

Then the two knights changed their clothes once more, and Sir Amyle returned to his wife and Sir Amys to his bride, and they lived happily to the end of their lives.

[Adapted and shortened from _Early English Metrical Romances_.]

_THE TALE OF THE CID_

In the year 1025, when Canute the Dane was sitting on the throne of England, there was born in the ancient Spanish city of Burgos a baby, to whom was given the name of Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar. He came of n.o.ble blood on both sides of the House, and his forefathers had borne some of the highest offices of the land, and from his childhood the boy had been taught that it was his duty never to fall one whit behind them in courage and in honour. As he grew older, he burned more and more for a chance to show the metal of which he was made, and longed to join the companies of knights that were ever going forth to fight the Arabs, who for nearly four hundred years had reigned over the fairest provinces of Spain. But to all his prayers, his father, Don Diego Lainez, turned a deaf ear.

'Wait, wait, my son!' he would say; 'the little shoot must first grow into a tree. Go now and practise that sword-thrust in which you failed yesterday.'

It was when he was sixteen that the longed-for opportunity came.

Don Diego Lainez, now old and weak, had gone to do his homage to King Fernando, who had managed to unite the small kingdoms of Northern Spain under his banner. Some dispute arose between him and the powerful count, Don Lozano Gomez, probably as to which had the right to pa.s.s first into the presence of their king, and in the presence of the whole court Don Lozano spoke words of deadly insult to the old man, and even gave him a buffet on the cheek. The courtiers all cried shame, and Don Diego's hand clutched the pommel of his sword, but his rage had deprived him of the little strength that remained, and he was powerless to draw it. At this the count laughed scornfully, and, bowing mockingly to the king, who held it best that men should settle their own quarrels, rode away to his castle. Then, without another word, Don Diego turned and mounted his horse and set out homewards.

A broken man and older by ten years was he when he entered his hall, but many days pa.s.sed before any could guess what had wrought this change in him. All night he lay awake staring into the darkness, and when food was brought him it was carried away untasted, and his wife whispered to her ladies, 'If we rouse him not he will surely die! Would that I knew what has stricken him like this?'

Fifteen days went by in this manner, and none thought to see him leave his bed again, when one morning he strode into the hall with some of the fire of his former years, and called his sons to him. One by one he signed to each to draw near, and taking their soft hands in his palms, pressed so hard that the boys cried to him to loosen his grasp, or they would die of the pain. But when he came to Rodrigo, he heard no prayers of mercy from _him_, only threats and hot words uttered with blazing eyes and cheeks burning with anger. And the old man wept for joy, and cried:

'Thou art indeed my true son; your rage calms me, your fury heals me. It is you who will redeem my honour, which I held lost.' And then he told the youth the tale of what had pa.s.sed at court.

'Take my blessing,' were his last words, 'and take this sword also, which shall deal the count his death-blow. After that, you shall do greater deeds still.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: RODRIGO BRINGS HOME THE HEAD OF GOMEZ]

Young though he was, Rodrigo had heard enough of war to know Lozano Gomez would not prove an easy prey; but, easy or not, he meant to fight him. So, vowing to his sword that should he ever bring dishonour on the weapon that had done his House good service, he would sheathe it in his breast, he mounted his horse and rode to meet his foe.

'Is it a knightly or a brave deed, think you, to smite an old man who cannot defend himself?' asked he. 'But when you dealt that blow you may have thought that his sons were yet in their cradles, and that there was none to avenge him. Well, traitor, you are wrong. _I_ am his son, and his honour is mine, so look to yourself, lest I take your head home with me.'

And Gomez laughed to hear him, and bade him cease crowing like a young c.o.c.k, but a furious onslaught from Rodrigo cut his words short, and hardly did he escape being unhorsed. Before he had steadied himself in the saddle Rodrigo had charged again, and this time his enemy was borne to the ground.

'So may all dastards die!' cried the victor, as he cut off his head.

Don Diego Lainez was sitting at the table in his great hall, the tears rolling down his cheeks as the shameful scene of his dishonour rose up before him. Suddenly a clatter of hoofs was heard in the courtyard, and the doors swung open. The men-at-arms gathered round the board rose to their feet as Rodrigo entered, carrying the head of Count Gomez by the long front lock. Taking Don Diego by the arm, he shook him roughly:

'Open your eyes wide, my father, and raise your head, and let your heart be merry, for I have cut down the poisonous weed; I have stamped out the plague-spot; the robe of your honour is stainless as of yore.'

For a moment the old man kept silence, and then he looked up, his face shining.

'Son of my heart,' he said, 'it is enough. From henceforth the seat of honour is yours, and you shall take my place as the head of my House.'

From that day the young knights vied with each other in gaining leave to ride in the train of Rodrigo Diaz, or 'the Cid' as he was afterwards called, and to this name was later added the proud t.i.tle of 'Campeador.'

Three hundred youths in splendid attire followed him to the court of Fernando, when he went in his turn to do the king homage, and stood by his side as he challenged anyone of the blood of Count Lozano to fight and avenge his death; but no one came. Then his father and his n.o.ble company left their horses to kiss the hand of the king, but Rodrigo remained in his saddle.

'Get down, get down, Rodrigo!' cried his father, fearing lest the king should resent his rudeness. 'Swear fealty to thy lord, and kiss his hand, as a loyal subject should do.'

Now, ever since he had fought with Count Gomez, Rodrigo had felt himself to be a man, and, more than that, to be much greater than other men, and he was not pleased to be scolded by his father in the presence of so many people. Still, he was wise enough to know that it would do him no good in the eyes of the n.o.bles gathered round, to disobey his father, and slowly he got down from his horse to do homage with the rest. But so clumsy was he that, as he knelt, his sword nearly fell out of its sheath, and the king, thinking Rodrigo meant to kill him, started back, exclaiming:

'Away, away! you devil! If you have the form of a man, your deeds are those of a lion.'

'It is base to kiss the hand of such a craven,' answered Rodrigo in anger, 'and I hold that my father has heaped disgrace on his family by humbling himself in such a fashion!' And so saying, he rode away, with his followers behind him.

A few centuries later a man might have lost his head for such words, but in those days people were accustomed to speak their minds even to kings, and little harm came of it. Six weeks later, Rodrigo had forgotten all about it, and, what was more to the purpose, so had the king, at any rate he pretended to do so, and when Don Diego sent his son to do his business with Fernando, who was at Burgos, the young man went willingly. The morning after he reached the city he was dining in the hall of the palace with the king and his n.o.bles, when word was brought to the royal table that Ximena, the daughter of Count Gomez, and her train stood at the gates, and demanded an audience of the king. Fernando rose from his seat, and, signing to his n.o.bles to follow him, he went to meet Ximena.

A figure of woe was she, clothed all in black, even her face hidden by a black veil. Throwing herself on her knees, she implored that justice might be done on the murderer of her father, for not till then would the stain be wiped out which had killed her mother and was killing her. 'He rides to and fro under my lattice,' said she, 'and the hawk on his wrist slays my doves, and my mantle is sprinkled with their blood. If you do not do me right, O king, you are not fit to reign, or to call yourself a knight.'

Thus spake Ximena, and the king sat silent and pondered her words. 'I cannot punish Don Rodrigo, either by imprisonment or death,' he said to himself, 'for my n.o.bles would not suffer it; I must find some other way to satisfy Ximena.' Then turning to her, he bade her go home, and added that no damsel should have cause to complain that wrong had been done them at his hands.

Then Ximena rode away, and by-and-by Rodrigo departed also.

Six months later King Fernando was seated in the great hall of his palace of Burgos, dispensing justice to high and low, when there entered once more Ximena, followed by thirty esquires and pages.

'I come, though I know it is in vain,' she cried, when she had made her way to the foot of the throne. 'Five times I have appeared to demand my rights, and no longer will I be put off with empty words. No king are you, who are swayed this way and that by every man that pa.s.ses, and dare not even avenge your friends, for fear of what may come of it.'

'Not so,' answered the king; 'but is there no other way by which your quarrel may be appeased? Has Rodrigo on his side suffered no insult? You have heard of the fame he has lately won, when he took captive the five Moorish kings who broke suddenly into the land and ravaged it with fire and sword. And to prove that it was fame and not gold he wanted he set them all free, with only a promise of homage from them. Ah, if there were but a few more like him, Spain would soon be rid of the Moors.

Happy is the woman he shall choose for his wife; she will live all her days in safety and in honour.'

Then the king paused, and watched to see how Ximena took his words.

She was silent for some moments, but the king could not see her face, as she had pulled her veil over it. Suddenly she raised her head, and cast the veil back over her shoulders.

'It is true, O king, what you speak, and I will forego my vengeance.

Nay, I think my father himself would have it so. Give me Don Rodrigo for my husband; all my days I will be a loyal wife to him, and his honour shall be mine.'