Mediaeval Tales - Part 8
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Part 8

The following ballad describes the enthusiasm excited among the Leonese, when Bernard first raised his standard to oppose the progress of Charlemagne's army.

I.

With three thousand Men of Leon, from the city Bernard goes, To protect the soil Hispanian from the spear of Frankish foes From the city which is planted in the midst between the seas, To preserve the name and glory of old Pelayo's victories.

II.

The peasant hears upon his field the trumpet of the knight, He quits his team for spear and shield, and garniture of might, The shepherd hears it 'mid the mist--he flingeth down his crook, And rushes from the mountain like a tempest-troubled brook.

III.

The youth who shows a maiden's chin, whose brows have ne'er been bound The helmet's heavy ring within, gains manhood from the sound; The h.o.a.ry sire beside the fire forgets his feebleness, Once more to feel the cap of steel a warrior's ringlets press.

IV.

As through the glen his spears did gleam, these soldiers from the hills, They swelled his host, as mountain-stream receives the roaring rills; They round his banner flocked, in scorn of haughty Charlemagne, And thus upon their swords are sworn the faithful sons of Spain.

V.

"Free were we born," 'tis thus they cry, "though to our King we owe The homage and the fealty behind his crest to go; By G.o.d's behest our aid he shares, but G.o.d did ne'er command, That we should leave our children heirs of an enslaved land.

VI.

"Our b.r.e.a.s.t.s are not so timorous, nor are our arms so weak, Nor are our veins so bloodless, that we our vow should break, To sell our freedom for the fear of Prince or Paladin,-- At least we'll sell our birthright dear, no bloodless prize they'll win.

VII.

"At least King Charles, if G.o.d decrees he must be lord of Spain, Shall witness that the Leonese were not aroused in vain; He shall bear witness that we died, as lived our sires of old, Nor only of Numantium's pride shall minstrel tales be told.

VIII.

"THE LION[4] that hath bathed his paws in seas of Libyan gore, Shall he not battle for the laws and liberties of yore?

Anointed cravens may give gold to whom it likes them well, But steadfast heart and spirit bold Alphonso ne'er shall sell."

LADY ALDA'S DREAM.

The following is an attempt to render one of the most admired of all the Spanish ballads.

En Paris esta Dona Alda, la esposa de Don Roldan, Trecientas damas con ella, para la accompanar, Todas visten un vestido, todas calcan un calcar, &c.

In its whole structure and strain it bears a very remarkable resemblance to several of our own old ballads--both English and Scottish.

I.

In Paris sits the lady that shall be Sir Roland's bride, Three hundred damsels with her, her bidding to abide; All clothed in the same fashion, both the mantle and the shoon, All eating at one table, within her hall at noon: All, save the Lady Alda, she is lady of them all, She keeps her place upon the dais, and they serve her in her hall; The thread of gold a hundred spin, the lawn a hundred weave, And a hundred play sweet melody within Alda's bower at eve.

II.

With the sound of their sweet playing, the lady falls asleep, And she dreams a doleful dream, and her damsels hear her weep; There is sorrow in her slumber, and she waketh with a cry, And she calleth for her damsels, and swiftly they come nigh.

"Now, what is it, Lady Alda," (you may hear the words they say,) "Bringeth sorrow to thy pillow, and chaseth sleep away?"-- "O, my maidens!" quoth the lady, "my heart it is full sore!

I have dreamt a dream of evil, and can slumber never more.

III.

"For I was upon a mountain, in a bare and desert place, And I saw a mighty eagle, and a falcon he did chase; And to me the falcon came, and I hid it in my breast, But the mighty bird, pursuing, came and rent away my vest; And he scattered all the feathers, and blood was on his beak, And ever, as he tore and tore, I heard the falcon shriek;-- Now read my vision, damsels, now read my dream to me, For my heart may well be heavy that doleful sight to see."--

IV.

Out spake the foremost damsel was in her chamber there-- (You may hear the words she says), "O! my lady's dream is fair-- The mountain is St. Denis' choir; and thou the falcon art, And the eagle strong that teareth the garment from thy heart, And scattereth the feathers, he is the Paladin-- That, when again he comes from Spain, must sleep thy bower within;-- Then be blithe of cheer, my lady, for the dream thou must not grieve, It means but that thy bridegroom shall come to thee at eve."--

V.

"If thou hast read my vision, and read it cunningly,"-- Thus said the Lady Alda, "thou shalt not lack thy fee." But woe is me for Alda! there was heard, at morning hour, A voice of lamentation within that lady's bower, For there had come to Paris a messenger by night, And his horse it was a-weary, and his visage it was white; And there's weeping in the chamber and there's silence in the hall, For Sir Roland had been slaughtered in the chase of Roncesval.

THE ADMIRAL GUARINOS.

This is a translation of the ballad which Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, when at Toboso, overheard a peasant singing, as he was going to his work at daybreak.--"Iba cantando," says Cervantes, "aquel romance que dice, Mala la vistes Franceses la caca de Roncesvalles."

I.

The day of Roncesvalles was a dismal day for you, Ye men of France, for there the lance of King Charles was broke in two.

Ye well may curse that rueful field, for many a n.o.ble peer, In fray or fight, the dust did bite, beneath Bernardo's spear.

II.

There captured was Guarinos, King Charles's admiral; Seven Moorish kings surrounded him, and seized him for their thrall; Seven times, when all the chase was o'er, for Guarinos lots they cast; Seven times Marlotes won the throw, and the knight was his at last.

III.

Much joy had then Marlotes, and his captive much did prize, Above all the wealth of Araby, he was precious in his eyes.

Within his tent at evening he made the best of cheer, And thus, the banquet done, he spake unto his prisoner.

IV.

"Now, for the sake of Alla, Lord Admiral Guarinos Be thou a Moslem, and much love shall ever rest between us.

Two daughters have I--all the day thy handmaid one shall be, The other (and the fairer far) by night shall cherish thee.

V.