NOTES.

Count Julian called the invaders.—I. p. 1.

The story of Count Julian and his daughter has been treated as a fable by some authors, because it is not mentioned by the three writers who lived nearest the time. But those writers state the mere fact of the conquest of Spain as briefly as possible, without entering into particulars of any kind; and the best Spanish historians and antiquaries are persuaded that there is no cause for disbelieving the uniform and concurrent tradition of both Moors and Christians.

For the purposes of poetry, it is immaterial whether the story be true or false. I have represented the Count as a man both sinned against and sinning, and equally to be commiserated and condemned. The author of the Tragedy of Count Julian has contemplated his character in a grander point of view, and represented him as a man self-justified in bringing an army of foreign auxiliaries to assist him in delivering his country from a tyrant, and foreseeing, when it is too late to recede, the evils which he is thus bringing upon her.

Not victory that o’ershadows him, sees he!

No airy and light passion stirs abroad

To ruffle or to sooth him; all are quell’d

Beneath a mightier, sterner stress of mind:

Wakeful he sits, and lonely and unmoved,

Beyond the arrows, views, or shouts of men:

As oftentimes an eagle, when the sun

Throws o’er the varying earth his early ray,

Stands solitary, stands immoveable

Upon some highest cliff, and rolls his eye,

Clear, constant, unobservant, unabased,

In the cold light, above the dews of morn.

Act 5. Scene 2.

Parts of this tragedy are as fine in their kind as any thing which can be found in the whole compass of English poetry.

Juan de Mena places Count Julian with Orpas, the renegado Archbishop of Seville, in the deepest pit of hell.

No buenamente te puedo callar

Orpas maldito, ni a ti Julian,

Pues soys en el valle mas hondo de afan,

Que no se redime jamas por llorar:

Qual ya crueza vos pudo indignar

A vender un dia las tierras y leyes

De Espana, las quales pujança de reyes

En años a tantos no pudo cobrar.

Copla 91.

A Portugueze poet, Andre da Sylva Mascarenhas, is more indulgent to the Count, and seems to consider it as a mark of degeneracy in his own times, that the same crime would no longer provoke the same vengeance. His catalogue of women who have become famous by the evil of which they have been the occasion, begins with Eve, and ends with Anne Boleyn.

Louvar se pode ao Conde o sentimento

Da offensa da sua honestidade,

Se o nam vituperara co cruento

Disbarate da Hispana Christandade;

Se hoje ouvera stupros cento e cento

Nesta nossa infeliz lasciva idade,

Non se perdera nam a forte Espanha,

Que o crime frequentado nam se estranha.

Por mulheres porem se tem perdido

Muitos reynos da outra e desta vida;

Por Eva se perdeo o Ceo sobido,

Por Helena a Asia esclarecida;

Por Cleopatra o Egypto foi vencido,

Assiria por Semiramis perdida,

Por Cava se perdeo a forte Espanha,

E por Anna Bolena a Gram Bretanha.

Destruiçam de Espanha, p. 9.

Inhuman priests with unoffending blood

Had stain’d their country.—I. p. 1.

Never has any country been so cursed by the spirit of persecution as Spain. Under the Heathen Emperors it had its full share of suffering, and the first fatal precedent of appealing to the secular power to punish heresy with death, occurred in Spain. Then came the Arian controversy. There was as much bigotry, as much rancour, as little of the spirit of Christianity, and as much intolerance, on one part as on the other: but the successful party were better politicians, and more expert in the management of miracles.

Near to the city of Osen, or Ossel, there was a famous Catholic church, and a more famous baptistery, which was in the form of a cross. On holy Thursday in every year, the bishop, the clergy, and the people assembled there, saw that the baptistery was empty, and enjoyed a marvellous fragrance which differed from that of any, or all, flowers and spices, for it was an odour which came as the vesper of the divine virtue that was about to manifest itself: Then they fastened the doors of the church and sealed them. On Easter Eve the doors were opened, the baptistery was found full of water, and all the children born within the preceding twelve months were baptized. Theudisclo, an Arian king, set his seal also upon the doors for two successive years, and set a guard there. Still the miraculous baptistery was filled. The third year he suspected pipes, and ordered a trench to be dug round the building; but before the day of trial arrived, he was murdered, as opportunely as Arius himself. The trench was dry, but the workmen did not dig deep enough, and the miracle was continued. When the victory of the Catholic party was complete, it was no longer necessary to keep it up. The same baptistery was employed to convince the Spaniards of their error in keeping Easter. In Brito’s time, a few ruins called Oscla, were shown near the river Cambria; the broken baptistery was then called the Bath, and some wild superstitions which the peasantry related bore traces of the original legend. The trick was not uncommon; it was practised in Sicily and in other places. The story, however, is of some value, as showing that baptism was administered[2] only once a year, (except in cases of danger,) that immersion was the manner, and that infants were baptized.

Arianism seems to have lingered in Spain long after its defeat. The names Pelayo (Pelagius), and Arias, certainly appear to indicate a cherished heresy, and Brito[3] must have felt this when he deduced the former name from Saint Pelayo of the tenth century; for how came the Saint by it, and how could Brito have forgotten the founder of the Spanish monarchy?

In the latter half of the eleventh century, the Count of Barcelona, Ramon Berenguer, Cap de estopa, as he was called, for his bushy head, made war upon some Christians who are said to have turned Arians, and took the castles into which they retired.[4] By the number of their castles, which he gave to those chiefs who assisted him in conquering them, they appear to have been numerous. It is not improbable that those people were really what they are called; for Arian has never been, like Manichæan, a term ignorantly and indiscriminately given to heretics of all descriptions; and there is no heresy which would be so well understood in Spain, and so likely to have revived there.

The feelings of the triumphant party toward their opponents, are well marked by the manner in which St. Isidore speaks of the death of the Emperor Valens. Thraciam ferro incendiisque depopulantur, deletoque Romanorum exercitu ipsum Valentem jaculo vulneratum, in quadam villa fugientem succenderunt, ut merito ipse ab eis vivus temporali cremaretur incendio, qui tam pulchras animas ignibus æternis [5] tradiderat. If the truth of this opinion should be doubted, there is a good Athanasian miracle in the Chronicon[6] of S. Isidore and Melitus, to prove it. A certain Arian, by name Olympius, being in the bath, blasphemed the Holy Trinity, and, behold! being struck by an angel with three fiery darts, he was visibly consumed.

With regard to the Arians, the Catholics only did to the others as the others would have done to them; but the persecution of the Jews was equally unprovoked and inhuman. They are said to have betrayed many towns to the Moors; and it would be strange indeed if they had not, by every means in their power, assisted in overthrowing a government under which they were miserably oppressed. St. Isidore has a memorable passage relating to their cruel persecution and compulsory conversion under Sisebut; Qui initio regni Judæos ad Fidem Christianam permovens æmulationem quidem habuit, sed non secundum scientiam: potestate enim compulit, ques provocare fidei ratione oportuit. Sed sicut est scriptum sive per occasionem sive per veritatem, Christus annuntiatur, in hoc gaudeo et gaudebo.—S. Isidor. Christ. Goth. Espana Sagrada, 6. 502.

The Moorish conquest procured for them an interval of repose, till the Inquisition was established, and by its damnable acts put all former horrors out of remembrance. When Toledo was recovered from the Moors by Alonso VI., the Jews of that city waited upon the conqueror, and assured him that they were part of the ten tribes whom Nebuchadnezzar had transported into Spain; not the descendants of the Jerusalem Jews who had crucified Christ. Their ancestors, they said, were entirely innocent of the crucifixion; for when Caiaphas the high-priest had written to the Toledan synagogues to ask their advice respecting the person who called himself the Messiah, and whether he should be slain, the Toledan Jews returned for answer, that in their judgement the prophecies seemed to be fulfilled in this person, and, therefore, he ought not by any means to be put to death. This reply they produced in the original Hebrew, and in Arabic, as it had been translated by command of King Galifre. Alonso gave ear to the story, had the letter rendered into Latin and Castilian, and deposited it among the archives of Toledo. The latter version is thus printed by Sandoval:—

Levi Archisinagogo, et Samuel, et Joseph, homes bonos del Aljama de Toledo, a Eleazar Muyd gran Sacerdote, e a Samuel Canud, y Anas, y Cayphas, homes bonos de la Aljama de la Terra Santa, Salud en el Dios de Israel.

Azarias voso home, Maeso en ley nos aduxo las cartas que vos nos embiavades, por las quales nos faziades saber cuemo passava la facienda del Propheta Nazaret, que diz que facie muchas sennas. Colo por esta vila, non ha mucho, un cierto Samuel, fil de Amacias, et fablo nusco, et reconto muchas bondades deste home, que ye, que es home homildoso et manso, que fabla con los laçeriados, que faz a todos bien, e que faciendole a el mal, el non faz mal a ninguem; et que es home fuerte con superbos et homes malos, et que vos malamente teniades enemiga con ele, por quanto en faz el descubria vosos pecados, ca por quanto facia esto, le aviades mala voluntad. Et perquirimos deste home, en que año, o mes o dia, avia nacido: et que nos lo dixesse: falamos que el dia de la sua Natividade foron vistos en estas partes tres soles muelle a muelle, fizieron soldemente un sol; et cuemo nosos padres cataron esta senna, asmados dixeron que cedo el Messias naceria, et que por aventura era ja nacido. Catad hermanos si por aventura ha ja venido et non le ayades acatado. Relataba tambien el susodicho home, que el suo pay le recontava, que ciertos Magos, homes de mucha sapiencia, en la sua Natividade legaron a tierra santa, perquiriendo logar donde el niño sancto era nacido; y que Herodes voso Rey se asmo, et diposito junto a homes sabios de sua vila, e perquirio donde nasceria el Infante, por quien perquirian Magos, et le respondieron, en Betlem de Juda, segun que Micheas depergino profeto. Et que dixeron aqueles Magos, que una estrella de gran craredad, de luenne aduxo a tierra santa: catad non sea esta quela profezia, cataran Reyes, et andaran en craridad de la sua Natividade. Otrosi, catad non persigades al que forades tenudos mucho honrar et recibir de bon talante. Mais fazed lo que tuvieres por bien aguisada; nos vos dezimos que nin por consejo, nin por noso alvedrio veniremos en consentimiento de la sua morte. Ca, si nos esto fiziessemos, logo seria nuesco, que la profezia que diz, congregaronse de consuno contra el Sennor, et contra el suo Messias. E damos vos este consejo, maguera sodes homes de muyta sapença, que tengades grande aficamento sobre tamana fazienda, porque el Dios de Israel enojado con vasco, non destruya casa segunda de voso segundo templo. Ca sepades cierto, cedo ha de ser destruyda; et por esta rason nosos antepassados, que salieron de captiverio de Babylonia, siendo suo Capitane yrro, que embio Rey Cyro, et aduxo nusco muytas riqueças que tollo de Babylonia el año de sesenta et nueve de captividade, et foron recebidos en Toledo de Gentiles que y moravan, et edificaron una grande Aljama, et non quisieron bolver a Jerusalem otra vegada a edificar Temple, aviendo ser destruido otra vegada. De Toledo catorze dias del mes Nisan, Era de Cesar diez y ocho, y de Augusto Octaviano setenta y uno.—Sandoval, 71.

Had Alonso been as zealous as some of his Gothic predecessors, or his most Catholic successors, he might have found a fair pretext in this letter for ordering all the Jews of Toledo to the font, unless they would show cause why they should adhere to the opinion of Caiaphas and the Jerusalem Jews, rather than to that of their own ancestors.

General Vallancy believes that the Spanish Jews were brought into the Peninsula by Nebuchadnezzar, and admits these Toledans as authority. He quotes Count de Gebelin, and refers to Strabo and Ezekiel. The proof from Ezekiel rests upon the word Orb, Earb, Warb, or Gharb; which is made into Algarve!

A Jew in Tirante el Blanco (p. 2. c. 74. f. 243.) explains the difference between the different races of Jews. They are three, he says. One the progeny of those who took counsel for the death of Christ; and they were known by this, that they were in continual motion, hands and feet, and never could rest; neither could their spirit ever be still, and they had very little shame. The second were the descendants of those who put in execution and assisted at the various parts of the sufferings and death of Christ, and they never could look any man in the face, nor could they, without great difficulty, ever look up to heaven. The third were the children of David, who did all they could to prevent the death of Christ, and shut themselves up in the temple that they might not witness it. These are affable, good men, who love their neighbours; a quiet peaceable race, who can look any where.

Thomas Tamaio de Vargas, the editor of the spurious Luitprand, says, that not only many Hebrew words are mixed with the old Spanish, but that, prô dolor! the black and stinking Jewish blood had been mingled with the most pure blood of the Spaniards. (p. 96.) They were very anxious, he says, to intermarry, and spoil the pure blood. And he adds, that the Spaniards call them putos, quia putant. “But,” says Sir Thomas Browne, “that an unsavoury odour is gentilitious, or national to the Jews, we cannot well concede. And if, (according to good relations,) where they may freely speak it, they forbear not to boast that there are at present many thousand Jews in Spain, France, and England, and some dispensed withal even to the degree of priesthood, it is a matter very considerable, and could they be smelled out, would much advantage not only the church of Christ, but also the coffers of princes.—The ground that begat or propagated this assertion might be the distasteful averseness of the Christian from the Jew upon the villainy of that fact, which made them abominable, and ‘stink in the nostrils of all men.’ Which real practice and metaphorical expression did after proceed into a literal construction, but was a fraudulent illation; for such an evil savour their father Jacob acknowledged in himself, when he said his sons had made him stink in the land, that is, to be abominable unto the inhabitants thereof.—Another cause is urged by Campegius, and much received by Christians; that this ill savour is a curse derived upon them by Christ, and stands as a badge or brand of a generation that crucified their Salvator. But this is a conceit without all warrant, and an easy way to take off dispute in what point of obscurity soever.” Vulgar Errors, Book iv. ch. 10.

The Mahommedans also hold a like opinion of the unsavouriness of the Jews, and account for it by this legend which is given by Sale. “Some of the children of Israel abandoned their dwellings because of a pestilence, or, as others say, to avoid serving in a religious war; but as they fled, God struck them all dead in a certain valley. About eight days or more after, when their bodies were corrupted, the Prophet Ezekiel happening to pass that way, at the sight wept; whereupon God said to him, ‘Call to them, O Ezekiel, and I will restore them to life.’ And accordingly, on the prophet’s call, they all arose, and lived several years after; but they retained the colour and stench of dead corpses as long as they lived, and the clothes they wore were changed as black as pitch, which qualities they transmitted to their posterity.”

One of our own travellers[7] tells us of a curious practical application of this belief in Barbary. “The Moors of Tangier,” he says, “when they want rain, and have prayed in vain for it, set the Jews to work, saying, that though God would not grant it to the prayers of the faithful, he would to the Jews, in order to be rid of their stink.” Ludicrous as this is, South has a passage concerning the Jews, which is little more reasonable, in one of his sermons. “The truth is,” he says, “they were all along a cross, odd, untoward sort of people, and such as God seems to have chosen, and (as the Prophets sometimes phrase it) to have espoused to himself, upon the very same account that Socrates espoused Xantippe, only for her extreme ill conditions, above all that he could possibly find or pick out of that sex: and so the fittest argument both to exercise and declare his admirable patience to the world.”—Vol. i. 421.

A yoke

Of iron servitude oppress’d and gall’d

The children of the soil.—I. p. 1.

Of the condition of slaves under the Spanish Wisigoths, I have given an account in the Introduction of the Chronicle of the Cid. This also, like the persecution of the Jews, must greatly have facilitated the Moorish conquest. Another facilitating cause was, that notwithstanding their frequent civil disturbances, they had in great measure ceased to be a warlike people. The many laws in the Fuero Juzgo, for compelling men to military service, prove this. These laws are full of complaints that the people would avoid the service if they could. Habits of settled life seem throughout Europe to have effeminated the northern conquerors, till the Normans renovated the race, and the institutions of chivalry and the crusades produced a new era.

Thou, Calpe, sawest their coming: ancient Rock

Renown’d, no longer now shalt thou be call’d

From Gods and Heroes of the years of yore,

Kronos, or hundred-handed Briareus,

Bacchus or Hercules; but doom’d to bear

The name of thy new conqueror.—I. p. 2.

Gibel-al-Tarif, the mountain Tarif, is the received etymology of Gibraltar: Ben Hazel, a Granadan Moor, says expressly, that the mountain derived its name from this general. Its former appellations may be seen in the Historia de Gibraltar, by Don Ignacio Lopez de Ayala. The derivation of the word Calpe is not known: Florian de Ocampo identifies it with the English word golloping, in a passage which may amuse the Spanish scholar. “La segunda nombradia fue llamarle Calpe, cuya razon, segun dicen algunos, procedio de que los Andaluces ancianos en su lengua vieja solian llamar Calepas y Calpes a qualesquier cosas enhiestas y levantadas, agora fuesen peñascos, o pizarras, o maderos, o piedras menores, como lo significamos en los diez y ocho capitulos precedentes: y dicen que con estar alli junto de Gibraltar sobre sus marinas el risco, que ya dixe muy encumbrado y enhiesto, qual hoy dia parece, lo llamaban Calpes aquellos Andaluces pasados: y por su respecto la mesma poblacion vino tambien a tener despues aquel proprio nombre. No faltan otras personas que siguiendo las Escrituras Griegas pongan esta razon del nombre Calpes mucho diversamente, diciendo, que quando los cosarios Argonautas desembarcaron en España, cerca del estrecho, segun ya lo declaramos, el tiempo que hacian sus exercicios arriba dichos, de saltos y luchas, y musicas acordadas, bien asi como los pastores Españoles comarcanos recibian contentamientos grande, mirado las tales desenvolturas y ligerezas, no menos aquellos Griegos recien venidos notaban algunos juegos, dudo que trabajosos y dificiles, que los mesmos pastores obraban entre si para su recreacion y deporte; particularmente consideraran un regocijo de caballos, donde ciertos dias aplazados venian todos a se juntar como para cosa de gran pundonor.

“El qual regocijo hacian desta manera. Tomaban yeguas en pelo, quanto mas corredoras y ligeras podian haber, y puestos ellos encima desnudos sin alguna ropa, ataban en las quixadas barbicachos de rama, torcidos y majados a manera de freno, con que salian del puesto dos a dos a la par corriendo lo mas que sus yeguas podian, para llegar a cierta senal de pizarras enhiestas o de maderos hincados y levantados en fin de la carrera. Venidos al medio trecho de su corrida saltaban de las yeguas en tierra, no las parando ni deteniendo: y asi trabados por el barbicacho, corrian tambien ellos á pie, sin las dexar, puesto que mas furia llevasen: porque si las dexaban ó se desprendian dellas, y no sustentaban el freno continuamente, hasta ser pasada la carrera, perdian la reputation y las apuestas, quedando tan amenguados y vencidos, quanto quedaria triunfante quien primero llegase con su yegua para tomar la presa que tenian en el fin de la carrera sobre las pizarras o maderos hincados. Quando saltaban de sus yeguas, dicen que les iban hablando porque no se detuviesen, voceandoles y diciendoles a menudo palabras animosos y dulces: llamabanles pies hermosas, generosas en el correr, casta real, hembras preciosas, acrecentadoras de sus honras, y mas otras razones muchas con que las tenian vezadas, a no se parar ni perder el impetu comenzado: de manera que los tropeles en este punto, los pundonores y regocijos de correr, y de no mostrar floxedad era cosa mucho de notar, asi por la parte de los hombres, como por parte de las yeguas. A los Griegos Argonautas les parecio juego tan varonil que muchas veces lo probaron tambien ellos a revuelta de los Espanoles, como quiera que jamas pudieron tener aquella vigilancia ni ligereza, ni reciura que tenian estos otros para durar con sus yeguas. Y dado que las tales yeguas corriesen harto furiosas, y les ensenasen muchos dias antes a seguir estas parejas, quanto mejor entendian a la verdad, ni las de los unos, ni las de los otros corrian tanto despues que saltaban dellas, como quando los traian encima: y asi las palabras que los Griegos en aquella sazon puestos a pie hablaban eran tambien al mesmo proposito conformes a las de los Andaluces Españoles en su lengua, provincial, nombrandolas Calopes, Calopes, Calopes a la contina, que fue palabra Griega, compuesta de dos vocablos: uno Calos, que significa cosa hermosa, ligera y agraciada: otro Pus, que quiere decir pie, como que las llamasen pies agraciados, o pies desenvueltos y ligeros: y por abreviar mas el vocablo, para que sus yeguas lo pudiesen mas presto sentir, acortabanlo con una letra menos en el medio, y en lugar de nombrarlas Calopes, les deciam Calpes, que significa lo mesmo Calopes: la qual palabra me parece dura todavia hasta nuestro siglo presente, donde pocas letras mudadas, por decir Calopes o Calpes, lo pronunciamos Galopes, quando los caballos y yeguas, o qualesquier otros animales, no corren a todo poder sino trote largo seguido. Vino desto que las mesmas fiestas y manera del juego se nombraron Calpes: dado que para conmigo bastara saber la victoria deste juego consistir en ligereza de pies, y por eso solo deberse llamar Calopes a Calpe, sin anadir lo que hablaban a las yeguas, pues aquello primero comprehende bastantemente la razon deste vocablo. Pero si todavia fue cierto que les decian aquellas palabras quando corrian sus parejas, ninguna cosa daña dexarlas aquí puestas.”—Coronica General de Espana, c. 38.

Famine and Pestilence had wasted them.—I. p. 3.

In the reign of Egica, Witiza’s father,—plaga inguinalis immisericorditer illabitur. (Isid. Pacensis.) And for two years before the Moorish invasion,—habia habido continua hambre y pestilencia en Espana, con que se habian debilitado mucho los cuerpos, sin lo que el ocio las habia enflaquecido.—Morales, 12. 69. 5.

St. Isidore, in his History of the Goths, distinctly describes the Northern Lights among the signs that announced the wars of Attila. “Multa eodem tempore cœli et terræ signa præcesserunt, quorum prodigiis tam crudele bellum significaretur. Nam, assiduis terræ motibus factis, a parte Orientis Luna fuscata est, a solis occasu stella cometes apparuit, atque ingenti magnitudine aliquandiu fulsit. Ab aquilonis plaga cœlum rubens, sicut ignis aut sanguis, effectus est, permistis perigneum ruborem lineis clarioribus in speciem hastarum rutilantium deformatis. Nec mirum, ut in tam ingenti cæsorum strage, divinitus tam multa signorum demonstraretur ostensio.”—España Sagrada, t. vi. 491.

And worst of enemies, their Sins were arm’d

Against them.—I. p. 3.

The following description of the state of the Christian world when the Saracens began their conquests, is taken from a singular manuscript, “wherein the history of the Cruisades and of all the Mahommedan emperors from A. D. 558, to A. D. 1588, is gathered out of the Chronikes of William Archbishop of Tyreus, the protoscribe of Palestine, of Basilius Jhohannes Heraldus, and sundry others, and reduced into a poem epike by Robert Barret, 1610.” The author was an old soldier, whose language is a compound of Josuah Sylvester and King Cambyses, with a strong relish of Ancient Pistol.

Now in this sin-flood age not only in East

Did the impious imps the faithful persecute,

But like affliction them pursued in West,

And in all parts the good trod under foot;

For Faith in some was cold, from others fled,

And fear of God dislodged out human hearts;

Astrea flown to skies, and in her stead

Iniquity enthronized; in all parts

Violence had vogue, and on sathanized earth

Fraud, Mischief, Murder martialled the camp;

Sweet Virtue fled the field: Hope, out of breath;

And Vice, all-stainer, every soul did stamp;

So that it seem’d World drew to’s evening tide,

Nought else expecting but Christ’s second coming;

For Charity was cold on every side,

And Truth and Trust were gone from earth a-mumming.

All things confused ran, so that it seemed

The World return would to his chaos old;

Princes the path of justice not esteemed,

Headlong with prince ran people young and old.

All sainct confederations infringed,

And for light cause would prince with prince enquarrel;

Countries bestreamed with blood, with fire besinged,

All set to each, all murders sorts unbarrelled.

No wight his own could own; ’twas current coin

Each man to strip, provided he were rich.

The church sacriledged, choir made cot for swine,

And zealous ministers were made to scritche.

Robbing was made fair purchase, murder manhood,

And none secure by land ne sea could pass;

The humble heartless, ireful hearts ran wood,

Esteemed most who mischief most could dress

All lubrick lusts shamelese without comptroll

Ran full career; each would a rider be;

And Heaven’s friend, all sainct Continency,

Was banished quite: Lasciviousness did roll,

Frugality, healthful Sobriety

No place could find; all parts enquartered were

With Bacchus-brutes and Satyres-luxury.

All lawless games bore sway, with blasphemes roare,

’Twixt Clerk and Laick difference was none,

Disguized all, phantastick out of norme;

But as the Prophet says, as Priests do run,

So run the people, peevish in disform.

The Bishops graded once, dumb dogs become,

Their heads sin vyncting, flocks abandon soon;

Princes applauders, person-acceptors,

The good’s debarrers and the bad’s abetters;

Fleshly all, all filthy simonized,

Preferring profit ’fore the Eternal’s praise.

The church enschismed, court all atheized,

The commons kankred, all all in distrayes;

The plotting politician’s pate admired,

Their skill consisting in preventions scull,

Pathicks preferred, Cyprin ware desired,

Ocean of mischiefs flowing moon-tide full:

So that it seem’d that all flesh desperately

Like wolf-scared sheep were plunged headlong down

In pit of hell: puddled all pestfully

The court, church, commons, province, city, town;

All haggards; none reclaimed once could be,

Ne by the word, the word ’bused by organs bad,

Ne yet by signs that spotted chrystal sky,

Ne other prodigies, presages sad,

Neither gust shakings of this settled globe;

Neither sharpe pencil of war, famine, pest,

Could once one ray engrave in steeled breast,

Or Christians cause their sin-jagged robe disrobe.

Thus stood the sad state of that sin-stain’d time,

And Christians of this our all-zeal cold time,

Let us now par’llel that time with our time,

Our parallel’d time will parallel that time,

Then triple-sainct, thou just geometer true,

Our time not parallel by thy justice line,

But with thy mercy’s paralleling brow,

Reform our crimeful Angles by grace thine.

Eight summer days, from morn till latest eve,

The fatal fight endured.—I. p. 3.

Ocho veces la lampara febea

Salio alumbrando el mundo, y ocho veces

La negra sombra de la noche fea

De la luna alteró las blancas teces;

Y tantos dias la mortal pelea,

El sol y las estrellas por jueces,

En España duro, sin durar ella

Mas en su libertad, que en fenecella.

Balbuena, El Bernardo, t. ii. 275.

Roderick’s royal car.—I. p. 3.

“Roderike, the first day after the battayle, observing the auncient guise of his countrey, came into the fielde apparailled in a gowne of beaten golde, having also on his head a crown of gold, and golden shoes, and all his other apparaile set with rich pearles and precious stones, ryding in a horse-litter of ivorie, drawne by two goodly horses; which order the Goths used alwayes in battailes for this consideration, that the souldiours, well knowing their king could not escape away by flight from them, shuld be assured that there was none other way but either to die togither in that place, or else to winne the victorie; for it had bene a thing most shamefull and reproachful to forsake their prince and anoynted soveraigne. Which custome and maner many free confederate cities of Italie folowing, trimmed and adorned for the warres a certain chayre of estate, called Carocio, wherein were set the penons and ensigns of all the confederates; this chayre, in battaile, was drawn by many oxen, wherby the whole hoast was given to understand that they could not with any honesty flie, by reason of the slow pace and unweldinesse of those heavie beasts.”—A Notable Historie of the Saracens, drawen out of Augustine Curio, and sundry other good Authours. By Thomas Newton, 1575.

En ruedas de marfil, envuelto en sedas,

De oro la frente orlada, y mas dispuesto

Al triunfo y al festin que a la pelea,

El sucesor indigno de Alarico

Llevo tras si la maldicion eterna.

Ah! yo la vi: la lid por siete dias

Duro, mas no fue lid, fue una sangrienta

Carniceria: huyeron los cobardes

Los traidores vendieron sus banderas,

Los fuertes, los leales perecieron.—Quintana.

The author of the chivalrous Chronicle of King Don Rodrigo gives a singular description of this car, upon the authority of his pretended original Eleastras; for he, “seeing that calamities went on increasing, and that the destruction of the Goths was at hand, thought that if things were to end as they had begun, it would be a marvel if there should be in Spain any king or lord of the lineage of the Goths after the death of King Don Rodrigo; and therefore it imported much that he should leave behind him a remembrance of the customs of the Gothic kings, and of the manner in which they were wont to enter into battle and how they went to war. And he says, that the king used to go in a car made after a strange fashion. The wheels of this car were made of the bones of elephants, and the axle-tree was of fine silver, and the perch was of fine gold. It was drawn by two horses, who were of great size and gentle; and upon the car there was pitched a tent, so large that it covered the whole car, and it was of fine cloth of gold, upon which were wrought all the great feats in arms which had been achieved until that time; and the pillar of the tent was of gold, and many stones of great value were set in it, which sent forth such splendour, that by night there was no need of any other light therein. And the car and the horses bore the same adornments as the king, and these were full of pearls the largest which could be found. And in the middle of the car there was a seat placed against the pillar of the tent; and this seat was of great price, insomuch that the value of it cannot be summed up, so many and so great were the stones which were set in it; and it was wrought so subtly, and of such rare workmanship, that they who saw it marvelled thereat. And upon this seat the king was seated, being lifted up so high that all in the host, little or great, might behold him. And in this manner it was appointed that the king should go to war. And round about the car there were to go a thousand knights, who had all been knighted by the hand of the king, all armed; and in the day of battle they were to be on foot round about the car; and all plighted homage to the king not to depart from it in any manner whatsoever, and that they would rather receive their death there, than go from their place beside the car. And the king had his crown upon his head. And in this guise all the kings of the Goths, who had been lords of Spain, were to go to battle; and this custom they had all observed till the King Don Rodrigo; but he, because of the great grief which he had in his heart, would never ascend the car, neither did he go in it into the battle.”—Part i. c. 215.

Entrò Rodrigo en la batalla fiera,

Armado en blanco de un arnes dorado,

El yelmo coronado de una esfera

Que en luzes vence al circulo estrellado:

En unas ricas andas, ô litera

Que al hijo de Climene despeñado

Engañaran mejor que el carro de oro

De ygual peligro, y de mayor tesoro.

La purpura real las armas cubre,

El grave rostro en magestad le baña,

El ceptro por quien era le descubre

Rodrigo ultimo Godo Rey de Espana:

Mas de la suerte que en lluvioso Otubre

Lo verde que le veste ya compaña,

Desnuda al olmo blanco, rompe y quita

Vulturno ayrado que al invierno incita.

Caen las hojas sobre el agua clara

Que le bañava el pie, y el ornamento

Del tronco imita nuestra edad que para

En su primero humilde fundamento:

Desierta queda la frondosa vara,

Sigue la rama, en remolino, al viento,

Que la aparta del arbol, que saltea

Su blanca, verde, y palida librea.

Assi Rodrigo el miserable dia

Ultimo de esta guerra desdichada,

Quedo en el campo, donde ya tenia

La magestad del ombro derribada:

Alli la rota purpura yazia

Teñida en sangre, y en sudor vañada,

Alli el verde laurel, y el ceptro de oro,

Siendo el arbol su cuerpo, el viento el Moro.

Lope de Vega. Jerusalen Conquistada, l. vi. f. 136.

That helm

Whose horns, amid the thickest of the fray

Eminent, had mark’d his presence.—I. p. 3.

Morales describes this horned helmet from a coin. “Tiene de la una parte su rostro, harto diferente de los que en las otras Monedas de estas Reyes parecen. Tiene manera de estar armado, y salenle por cima de la celada unas puntas como cuernos pequeños y derechos por ambos lados, que lo hacen estraño y espantable.” Florez has given this coin in his Medallas de Espana, from the only one which was known to be in existence, and which was then in the collection of the Infante D. Gabriel. It was struck at Egitania, the present Idana, and, like all the coins of the Visigoth kings, is of the rudest kind. The lines which Morales describes are sufficiently apparent, and if they are not intended for horns, it is impossible to guess what else they may have been meant to represent.

“These Gothic coins,” says P. D. Jeronymo Contador de Argote, “have a thousand barbarisms, as well in their letters as in other circumstances. They mingle Greek characters with Latin ones; and in what regards the relief or figure, nothing can be more dissimilar than the representation to the thing which it is intended to represent. I will relate what happened to me with one, however much D. Egidio de Albornos de Macedo may reprehend me for it in his Parecer Anathomico. Valerio Pinto de Sa, an honourable citizen of Braga, of whom, in various parts of these Memoirs, I have made well-deserved mention, and of whose friendship I have been proud ever since I have been in that city, gave me, some six or seven years ago, a gold coin of King Leovigildo, who was the first of the Gothic kings of Spain that coined money, for till then both Goths and Sueves used the Roman. I examined it leisurely, and what I clearly saw was a cross on the one side upon some steps, and some ill-shaped letters around it; and on the reverse something, I knew not what: It seemed to me like a tree, or a stake which shot out some branches: Round about were some letters, more distinct; I could not, however, ascertain what they signified. It happened about that time that I had the honour of a visit from the most illustrious Sr. D. Francisco de Almeida, then a most worthy Academician of the Royal Academy, and at present a most deserving and eminent Principal of the Holy Patriarchal Church. He saw this coin, and he also was puzzled by the side which represented what I called a tree. He asked me to lend it him, that he might examine it more at leisure. He took it away, and after some days returned it, saying, that he had examined it with a microscope, and that what I had taken for a stake was without question the portrait of King Leovigildo. I confess that I was not yet entirely satisfied: however, I showed it afterwards to divers persons, all of whom said they knew not what the said figure could be; but when I desired them to see if it could be this portrait, they all agreed that it was. This undeceived me, and by looking at the coin in every possible light, at last I came to see it also, and acknowledge the truth with the rest. And afterwards I found in the Dialogues of Antonio Agostinho, treating of these Gothic coins, that there are some of such rude workmanship, that where a face should be represented, some represent a pitcher, and others an urn.”—Memorias de Braga, t. iii. p. lix.

He bade the river bear the name of Joy.—I. p. 3.

Guadalete had been thus interpreted to Florez. (Espana Sagrada, t. 9. p 53.) Earlier writers had asserted (but without proof), that the Ancients called it Lethe, and the Moors added to these names their word for river. Lope de Vega alludes to this opinion:

Siempre lamentable Guadalete

Que llevo tanta sangre al mar de España,

Si por olvido se llamava el Lete

Trueque este nombre la vitoria estraña,

Y llamase memoria deste dia

En que España perdio la que tenia.

Que por donde à la mar entrava apenas

Diferenciando el agua, ya se via

Con roxo humor de las sangrientas venas

Por donde le cortava y dividia:

Gran tiempo conservaron sus arenas

(Y pienso que ha llegado a la edad mia)

Reliquias del estrago y piedras echas

Armas, hierros de lanza y de flechas.

Jerusalen Conquistada, l. vi. ff. 136.

The date of the battle is given with grandiloquous circumstantiality by Miguel de Barrios.

Salio la tercer alva del tonante

Noviembre, con vestido nebuloso,

sobre el alado bruto que al brillante

carro, saca del pielago espumoso;

y en el frio Escorpion casa rotante

del fiero Marte, el Astro luminoso

al son que compasso sus plantas sueltas

dio setecientas y catorze bueltas.

Coro de las Musas, p. 100.

He states the chronology of Pelayo’s accession in the same taste.

Era el pontificado del Segundo

Gregorio; Emperador Leon Tercero

del docto Griego; y del Persiano inmundo,

Zuleyman Miramamolin guerrero;

y de Daphne el amante rubicundo

surcava el mar del fulgido Carnero

sietecientas y diez y ocho vezes,

dexando el puerto de los aureos Pesces.

Coro de las Musas p. 102.

The arrows pass’d him by to right and left.—I. p. 3.

The French jesuits relate of one of their converts in Canada a Huron, by name Jean Armand Andeouarahen, that once estant en guerre eschauffé au combat, il s’enfonça si avant dans les darts et les flêches des ennemis, qu’il fut abandonné des siens dans le plus fort de la meslée. Ce fut alors qu’il se recommenda plus particulièrement à Dieu: il sentit pour lors un secours si présent, que du depuis, appuyé sur cette mesme confiance, il est toûjours le premier et le plus avant dans les périls, et jamais ne pâlit, pour quelque danger qu’il envisage. Je voyois, disoit-il, comme une gresle de flêches venir fondre sur moy; je n’avois point d’autre bouclier pour les arrester, que la croyance seule que Dieu disposant de ma vie, il en feroit selon sa volonté. Chose étrange! les flêches s’écartoient à mes deux costez, ainsi, disoit-il, que fait l’eau lors qu’elle rencontre la pointe d’un vaisseau qui va contre marée.—Relation de la N. France, 1642, p. 129.

He found himself on Ana’s banks,

Fast by the Caulian schools.—I. p. 6.

The site of this monastery, which was one of the most flourishing seminaries of that age, is believed to have been two leagues from Merida, upon the Guadiana, where the Ermida, or Chapel of Cubillana, stands at present, or was standing a few years ago. The legend, from which I have taken such circumstances as might easily have happened, and as suited my plan, was invented by a race of men who, in the talent of invention, have left all poets and romancers far behind them. Florez refers to Brito for it, and excuses himself from relating it, because it is not necessary to his[8] subject;—in reality he neither believed the story, nor chose to express his objections to it. His disbelief was probably founded upon the suspicious character of Brito, who was not at that time so decidedly condemned by his countrymen as he is at present. I give the legend from this veracious Cistercian. Most of his other fabrications have been exploded, but this has given rise to a popular and fashionable idolatry, which still maintains its ground.

“The monk did not venture to leave him alone in that disconsolate state, and taking him apart, besought him by the passion of Jesus Christ to consent that they twain should go together, and save a venerable image of the Virgin Mary our Lady, which in that convent flourished with great miracles, and had been brought from the city of Nazareth by a Greek monk, called Cyriac, at such time as a heresy in the parts of the East arose against the use and veneration of images; and with it a relic of the Apostle St. Bartholomew, and another of St. Bras, which were kept in an ivory coffer, for it would be a great sacrilege to leave them exposed to the ill-treatment of barbarians, who, according to public fame, left neither temple nor sacred place which they did not profane, casting the images into the fire, and dragging them at their horses’s tails for a greater opprobrium to the baptized people. The King, seeing himself thus conjured by the passion of our Redeemer Jesus Christ, in whom alone he had consolation and hope of remedy, and considering the piety of the thing in which he was chosen for companion, let himself be overcome by his entreaties; and taking in his arms the little image of our Lady, and Romano the coffer with the relics, and some provision for the journey, they struck into the middle of Portugal, having their faces alway towards the west, and seeking the coast of the ocean sea, because in those times it was a land more solitary, and less frequented by people, where they thought the Moors would not reach so soon, because, as there were no countries to conquer in those parts, there was no occasion which should lead them thither. Twenty-and-six days the two companions travelled without touching at any inhabited place, and after enduring many difficulties in crossing mountains and fording rivers, they had sight of the ocean sea on the 22d of November, being the day of the Virgin Martyr St. Cecilia; and as if in that place they should have an end of their labours, they took some comfort, and gave thanks to God, for that he had saved them from the hand of their enemies. The place which they reached is in the Coutos of Alcobaça, near to where we now see the town of Pederneira, on the eastern side of which there rises, in the midst of certain sands, a hill of rock and firm land, somewhat prolonged from north to south, so lofty and well proportioned that it seemeth miraculously placed in that site being surrounded on all sides with plains covered with sand, without height or rock to which it appears connected. And forasmuch as the manner thereof draws to it the eyes of whosoever beholds this work of nature, the king and the monk desired to ascend the height of it, to see whether it would afford a place for them in which to pass their lives. They found there a little hermitage with a holy crucifix, and no other signs of man, save only a plain tomb, without writing or epitaph to declare whose it might be. The situation of the place, which, ascending to a notable height, gives a prospect by sea and by land as far as the eyes can reach, and the sudden sight of the crucifix, caused in the mind of the king such excitement and so great consolation, that embracing the foot of the cross, he lay there melting away in rivers of tears, not now of grief for the kingdoms and dominions which he had lost, but of consolation in seeing that in exchange the crucified Jesus himself had in this solitary mountain offered himself to him, in whose company he resolved to pass the remainder of his life; and this he declared to the monk, who, to content him, and also because he saw that the place was convenient for contemplation, approved the king’s resolve, and abode there with him some days; during which perceiving some inconvenience in living upon the summit of the mountain, from whence it was necessary to descend with much labour, whenever they would drink, or seek for herbs and fruits for their food; and moreover understanding that it was the king’s desire to remain there alone, that he might vent himself in tears and exclamations, which he made oftentimes before the image of Christ, he went with his consent to a place little more than a mile from the mountain, which being on the one side smooth and of easy approach, hangs on the other over the sea with so huge a precipice that it is two hundred fathoms in perpendicular height, from the top of the rock to the water. There, between two great rocks, each of which projects over the sea, hanging suspended from the height in such a form, that they seem to threaten destruction to him who sees them from the beach, Romano found a little cave, made naturally in the cliff, which he enlarged with some walls of loose stone, built up with his own hands, and having thus made a sort of hermitage, he placed therein the image of the Virgin Mary of Nazareth, which he had brought from the Caulinean convent, and which being small, and of a dark colour, with the infant Jesus in its arms, hath in the countenance a certain perfection, with a modesty so remarkable, that at first sight it presents something miraculous; and having been known and venerated so great a number of years, during many of which it was in a place which did not protect it from the injuries of weather, it hath never been painted, neither hath it been found necessary to renew it. The situation of this hermitage was, and is now, within sight of the mountain where the king dwelt; and though the memorials from whence I am deriving the circumstances of these events do not specify it, it is to be believed that they often saw each other, and held such divine communion as their mode of life and the holiness of the place required; especially considering the great temptations of the Devil which the king suffered at the beginning of his penitence, for which the counsels and instructions of the monk would be necessary, and the aid of his prayers, and the presence of the relics of St. Bartholomew, which miraculously saved him many times from various illusions of the enemy. And in these our days there are seen upon the top of the mountain, in the living rock, certain human footsteps, and others of a different form, which the common people, without knowing the person, affirm to be the footsteps of St. Bartholomew and the Devil, who was there defeated and his illusions confounded by the saint, coming in aid of a devout man who called upon him in the force of his tribulation. This must have been the king, (though the common people know it not,) whom the saint thus visibly aided, and he chose that for a memorial of this aid, and of the power which God has given him over the evil spirits, these marks should remain impressed upon the living rock. And the ancient name of the mountain being Seano, it was changed into that of the Apostle, and is called at present St. Bartholomew’s; and the hermitage which remains upon the top of it is under the invocation of the same saint and of St. Bras, which must have arisen from the relics of these two saints that Romano brought with him and left with the king for his consolation, when he withdrew with the image of Our Lady to the place of which we have spoken, where he lived little more than a year; and then knowing the time of his death, he communicated it to the king, beseeching him that, in requital for the love with which he had accompanied him, he would remember to pray to God for his soul, and would give his body to the earth, from which it had sprung; and that having to depart from that land, he would leave there the image and the relics, in such manner as he should dispose them before he died. With that Romano departed to enjoy the reward deserved by his labours, leaving the king with fresh occasion of grief for want of so good a companion. Of what more passed in this place, and of the temptations and tribulations which he endured till the end of his life, there is no authentic historian, nor memorial which should certify them, more than some relations mingled with fabulous tales in the ancient Chronicle of King Don Rodrigo, where, among the truths which are taken from the Moor Rasis, there are many things notoriously impossible; such as the journey which the king took, being guided by a white cloud till he came near Viseo; and the penance in which he ended his life there, inclosing himself alive in a certain tomb with a serpent which he had bred for that purpose. But as these are things difficult to believe, we will pass them over in silence, leaving to the judgement of the curious the credit which an ancient picture deserves, still existing near Viseo, in the church of St. Michael, over the tomb of the said King Don Roderick, in which is seen a serpent painted with two heads; and in the tomb itself, which is of wrought stone, a round hole, through which they say that the snake entered. That which is certain of all this is, as our historians relate, that the king came to this place, and in the hermitage of St. Michael, which we now see near Visco, ended his days in great penance, no man knowing the manner thereof; neither was there any other memorial clearer than that in process of time a writing was found upon a certain tomb in this church with these words; Hic reqviescit Rudericus ultimus Rex Gothorum, Here rests Roderick, the last King of the Goths. I remember to have seen these very words written in black upon an arch of the wall, which is over the tomb of the king, although the Archbishop Don Rodrigo, and they who follow him, give a longer inscription, not observing that all which he has added are his own curses and imprecations upon Count Don Julian, (as Ambrosio de Morales has properly remarked, following the Bishop of Salamanca and others,) and not parts of the same inscription, as they make them. The church in which is the tomb of the king is at present very small, and of great antiquity, especially the first chapel, joined to which on either side is a cell of the same length, but narrow, and dark also, having no more light than what enters through a little window opening to the east. In one of these cells (that which is on the south side) it is said that a certain hermit dwelt, by whose advice the king governed himself in the course of his penance; and at this time his grave is shown close to the walls of the chapel, on the Epistle side. In the other cell (which is on the north) the king passed his life, paying now, in the straitness of that place, for the largeness of his palaces, and the liberties of his former life, whereby he had offended his Creator. And in the wall of the chapel which answers to the Gospel side, there remains a sort of arch, in which the tomb is seen, wherein are his bones; and it is devoutly visited by the natives, who believe that through his means the Lord does miracles there upon persons afflicted with agues and other like maladies. Under the said arch, in the part answering to it in the inside of the cell, I saw painted on the wall the hermit and the king, with the serpent with two heads, and I read the letters which are given above, all defaced by time, and bearing marks of great antiquity, yet so that they could distinctly be seen. The tomb is flat and made of a single stone, in which a man’s body can scarcely find room. When I saw it it was open, the stone which had served to cover it not being there, neither the bones of the king, which they told me had been carried into Castille some years before, but in what manner they knew not, nor by whose order; neither could I discover, by all the enquiries which I made among the old people of that city, who had reason to be acquainted with a thing of so much importance, if it were as certain as some of them affirmed it to be.”—Brito, Monarchia Lusitania, P. ii. l. 7. c. 3.

“The great venerableness of the Image of our Lady of Nazareth which the king left hidden in the very place where Romano in his lifetime had placed it, and the continual miracle which she showed formerly, and still shows,” induced F. Bernardo de Brito to continue the history of this Image, which, no doubt, he did the more willingly because he bears a part in it himself. In the days of Affonso Henriquez, the first king of Portugal, this part of the country was governed by D. Fuas Roupinho, a knight famous in the Portugueze chronicles, who resided in the castle at Porto de Mos. This Dom Fuas “when he saw the land secure from enemies, used often to go out hunting among the sands and thickets between the town and the sea, where, in those days, there used to be great store of game, and even now, though the land is so populous, there is still some; and as he followed this exercise, the proper pastime of noble and spirited men, and came sometimes to the seashore, he came upon that remarkable rock, which being level on the side of the north, and on a line with the flat country, ends towards the south in a precipice over the waves of the sea, of a prodigious height, causing the greater admiration to him who, going over the plain country without finding any irregularity, finds himself, when least expecting it, suddenly on the summit of such a height. And as he was curiously regarding this natural wonder, he perceived between the two biggest cliffs which stand out from the ground and project over the sea, a sort of house built of loose stones, which, from its form and antiquity, made him go himself to examine it; and descending by the chasm between the two rocks, he entered into a low cavern, where, upon a little altar, he saw the venerable Image of the Virgin Mary of Nazareth, being of such perfection and modesty as are found in very few images of that size. The catholic knight venerated it with all submission, and would have removed it to his castle of Porto de Mos, to have it held in more veneration, but that he feared to offend it if he should move it from a habitation where it had abode for so many years. This consideration made him leave it for the present in the same place and manner in which he found it; and although he visited it afterwards when in course of the chase he came to those parts, nevertheless he never took in hand to improve the poor hermitage in which it was, nor would he have done it, if the Virgin had not saved him from a notorious danger of death, which, peradventure, God permitted, as a punishment for his negligence, and in this manner to make the virtue of the Holy Image manifest to the world. It was thus, that going to his ordinary exercise of the chase, in the month of September, in the year of Christ 1182, and on the 14th of the month, being the day on which the church celebrates the festival of the Exaltation of the Cross upon the which Christ redeemed the human race, as the day rose thick with clouds, which ordinarily arise from the sea, and the country round about could not be seen by reason of the clouds, save for a little space, it befell that the dogs put up a stag, (if indeed it were one,) and Dom Fuas pressing his horse in pursuit, without fear of any danger, because he thought it was all plain ground, and the mist hindered him from seeing where he was, found himself upon the very edge of the rock on the precipice, two hundred fathoms above the sea, at a moment when it was no longer in his power to turn the reins, nor could he do any thing more than invoke the succours of the Virgin Mary, whose image was in that place; and she succoured him in such a manner, that less than two palms from the edge of the rock, on a long and narrow point thereof, the horse stopt as if it had been made of stone, the marks of his hoofs remaining in proof of the miracle imprinted in the living rock, such as at this day they are seen by all strangers and persons on pilgrimage, who go to visit the Image of Our Lady; and it is a notable thing, and deserving of serious consideration, to see that in the midst of this rock, upon which the miracle happened, and on the side towards the east, and in a part where, because it is suspended in the air, it is not possible that any human being could reach, Nature herself has impressed a cross as if nailed to the hardness of the rock, as though she had sanctified that cliff therewith, and marked it with that holy sign, to be the theatre in which the miraculous circumstance was to be celebrated; which, by reason that it took place on the day of the Exaltation of the Cross, seemed as if it showed the honour and glory which should from thence redound to the Lord who redeemed us thereon. Dom Fuas seeing himself delivered from so great danger, and knowing from whence the grace had come to him, went to the little hermitage, where, with that great devotion which the presence of the miracle occasioned, he gave infinite thanks to Our Lady, accusing himself before her of having neglected to repair the house, and promising all the amends which his possibility permitted. His huntsmen afterwards arrived, following the track of the horse, and knowing the marvel which had occurred, they prostrated themselves before the Image of Our Lady, adding with their astonishment to the devotion of Dom Fuas, who, hearing that the stag had not been seen, and that the dogs had found no track of him in any part, though one had been represented before him to draw him on, understood that it was an illusion of the Devil, seeking by that means to make him perish miserably. All these considerations enhanced the greatness of the miracle, and the obligations of Dom Fuas, who, tarrying there some days, made workmen come from Leyria and Porto de Mos, to make another hermitage, in which the Lady should be more venerated; and as they were demolishing the first, they found placed between the stones of the altar a little box of ivory, and within it relicks of St. Bras, St. Bartholomew, and other saints, with a parchment, wherein a relation was given of how, and at what time those relicks and the image were brought there, according as has been aforesaid. A vaulted chapel was soon made, after a good form for times so ancient, over the very place where the Lady had been; and to the end that it might be seen from all sides, they left it open with four arches, which in process of time were closed, to prevent the damage which the rains and storms did within the chapel, and in this manner it remains in our days. The Lady remained in her place, being soon known and visited by the faithful, who flocked there upon the fame of her appearance: the valiant and holy king D. Affonso Henriquez, being one of the first whom Dom Fuas advised of what had happened, and he, accompanied with the great persons of his court, and with his son, D. Sancho, came to visit the Image of the Lady, and see with his own eyes the marks of so rare a miracle as that which had taken place; and with his consent, D. Fuas made a donation to the Lady of a certain quantity of land round about, which was at that time a wild thicket, and for the greater part is so still, being well nigh all wild sands incapable of giving fruit, and would produce nothing more than heath and some wild pine-trees. And because it establishes the truth of all that I have said, and relates in its own manner the history of the Image of the Lady, I will place it here in the form in which I saw it in the Record Room at Alcobaça, preserving throughout the Latin and the barbarism of its composition; which is as follows:—

“Sub nomine Patris, nec non et ejus prolis, in unius potentia Deitatis, incipit carta donationis, necnon et devotionis, quam ego Fuas Ropinho tenens Porto de Mos, et terram de Albardos usque Leirenam, et Turres Veteres, facio Ecclesiæ Santæ Mariæ de Nazareth, quæ de pauco tempore surgit fundata super mare, ubi de sæculis antiquis jacebat, inter lapides et spinas multas, de tota illa terra quæ jacet inter flumina quæ venit per Alcoubaz, et aquam nuncupatam de furaturio, et dividitur de isto modo: de illa foz de flumine Alcobaz, quomodo vadit per aquas bellas, deinde inter mare et mata de Patayas usque, finir in ipso furaturio, quam ego obtinui de rege Alfonso, et per suum consensum facio præsentem seriem ad prædictam Ecclesiam Beatæ Mariæ Virginis, quam feci supra mare, ut in sæculis perpetuis memorentur mirabilia Dei, et sit notum omnibus hominibus, quomodo a morte fuerim salvatus per pietatem Dei et Beatæ Mariæ quam vocant de Nazaret, tali sucesu. Cum manerem in castro Porto de Mos, et inde veniebam ad ocidendos venatos, per Melvam et matam de Patayas usque ad mare, supra quam inveni furnam, et parvam domunculam inter arbustas et vepres, in qua erat una Imago Virginis Mariæ, et veneravimus illam, et abivimus inde; veni deinde xviii kal. Octobris, circa dictum locum, cum magna obscuratione nebulæ sparza super totam terram, et invenimus venatum, tres quem fui in meo equo, usque venirem ad esbarrondadeiro supra mare, quod cadit ajuso sine mensura hominis et pavet visus si cernit furnam cadentem ad aquas. Pavi ego miser peccator, et venit ad remembrancam de imagine ibi posita, et magna voce dixi, Sancta Maria val. Benedicta sit illa in mulieribus, quia meum equum sicut si esset lapis fecit stare, pedibus fixis in lapide, et erat jam vazatus extra terram in punta de saxo super mare. Descendi de equo, et veni ad locum ubi erat imago, et ploravi et gratias feci, et venerunt monteiros et viderunt, et laudaverunt Deum et Beatam Mariam; Misi homines per Leirenam et Porto de Mos, et per loca vicina, ut venirent Alvanires, et facerent ecclesiam bono opere operatam de fornice et lapide, et jam laudetur Deus finita est. Nos vero non sciebamus unde esset, et unde venisset ista imago; sed ecce cum destruebatur altare per Alvanires, inventa est arcula de ebore antiquo, et in illa uno envoltorio in quo erant ossa aliquorum sanctorum, et cartula cum hac inscriptione: Hic sunt reliquiæ Sanctorum Blasii et Bartholomei Apostoli, quas detulit a Monasterio Cauliniana Romanus monachus, simul cum venerabili Imagine Virginis Mariæ de Nazareth, quæ olim in Nazareth Civitate Gallileæ multis miraculis claruerat, et inde asportata per Græcum monachum nomine Cyriacum, Gothorum Regum tempore, in prædicto monasterio per multum temporis manserat, quo usque Hispania à Mauris debelata, et Rex Rodericus superatus in prælio, solus, lacrymabilis, abjectus, et pene defficiens pervenit ad præfatum monasterium Cauliniana, ibique a prædicto Romano pœnitentiæ et Eucharistiæ Sacramentis susceptis, pariter cum illo, cum imagine, et reliquiis ad Seanum montem pervenerunt 10 kal. Decemb. in quo rex solus per annum integrum permansit, in Ecclesia ibi inventa cum Christi crucifixi imagine, et ignoto sepulchro. Romanus vero cum hac Sacra Virginis effigie inter duo ista saxa, usque ad extremum vitæ permansit; et ne futuris temporibus aliquem ignorantia teneat, hæc cum reliquiis sacris in hac extremæ orbis parte recondimus. Deus ista omnia a Maurorum manibus servet. Amen. De his lectis et a Presbyteris apertis satis multum sumus gavisi, quia nomen de sanctis reliquiis, et de Virgine scivimus, et ut memorentur per semper in ista serie testamenti scribere fecimus. Do igitur prædictam hæreditatem pro reparatione prefatæ Ecclesiæ cum pascuis, et aquis, de monte in fonte, ingressibus et regressibus, quantum a prestitum hominis est, et illam in melhiorato foro aliquis potest habere per se. Ne igitur aliquis homo de nostris vel de estraneis hoc factum nostrum ad irrumpendum veniat, quod si tentaverit peche ad dominum terræ trecentos marabitinos, et carta nihilominus in suo robore permaneat, et insuper sedeat excommunicatus et cum Juda proditore pænas luat damnatorum. Facta series testamenti vi Idus Decemb. era M,CLXX, Alfonsus Portugaliæ Rex confirm. Sancius Rex confirm. Regina Dona Tarasia confirm. Petrus Fernandez, regis Sancii dapifer confirm. Menendus Gunsalui, ejusdem signifer confirm. Donus Joannes Fernandez curiæ regis maiordomus confirm. Donus Julianus Cancellarius regis confirm. Martinus Gonsalui Pretor Colimbriæ confirm. Petrus Omariz Capellanus regis confirm. Menendus Abbas confirm. Theotonius conf. Fernandus Nuniz, testis. Egeas Nuniz, testis. Dn Telo, testis. Petrus Nuniz, testis. Fernandus Vermundi, testis. Lucianus Præsbyter notavit.”

This deed, which establishes all the principal facts that I have related, did not take effect, because the lands of which it disposed were already part of the Coutos of Alcobaça, which King Don Affonso had given some years before to our father St. Bernard; and Dom Fuas compensated for them with certain properties near Pombal, as is proved by another writing annexed to the former, but which I forbear to insert, as appertaining little to the thread of my history: and resuming the course thereof, you must know, that the image of the Virgin Mary of Nazareth remained in the chapel which Dom Fuas made for it, till the year of Christ, 1377, in the which, King Dom Fernando of Portugal founded for it the house in which it now is, having been enlarged and beautified by Queen Dona Lianor, wife of King Dom Joam II., and surrounded with porticoes by King Dom Manoel. And now in our times a chapel (Capela mor) of good fabric has been built, with voluntary contributions, and the rents of the brotherhood; and in the old hermitage founded by Dom Fuas I., with the help of some devout persons, had another chapel opened under ground, in order to discover the very rock and cavern in which the Holy Image had been hidden so great a number of years; there is a descent to it by eight or ten steps, and a notable consolation it is to those who consider the great antiquity of that sanctuary. And for that the memory of things so remarkable ought not to be lost, I composed an inscription briefly recounting the whole: and Dr. Ruy Lourenço, who was then Provedor of the Comarca of Leyria, and visitor of the said church for the king, ordered it to be engraven in marble. It is as follows:—

“Sacra Virginis Mariæ veneranda Imago, a Monasterio Cauliniana prope Emeritam, quo Gothorum tempore, a Nazareth translata, miraculis claruerat, in generali Hispaniæ clade, Ann. Dni. DCCXIIII. a Romano monacho, comite, ut fertur, Roderico Rege, ad hanc extremam orbis partem adducitur, in qua dum unus moritur, alter proficiscitur, per CCCCLXIX. annos inter duo hæc prærupta saxa sub parvo delituit tugurio: deinde a Fua Ropinio, Portus Molarum duce, anno Domini MCLXXXII, (ut ipse in donatione testatur) inventa, dum incaute agitato equo fugacem, fictumque forte, insequitur cervum, ad ultimumque immanis hujus præcipitii cuneum, jam jam ruiturus accedit, nomine Virginis invocato, a ruina, et mortis faucibus ereptus, hoc ei prius dedicat sacellum; tandem a Ferdinando Portugaliæ Rege, ad majus aliud templum, quod ipse a fundamentis erexerat tranfertur. Ann. Domini MCCCLXXVII. Virgini et perpetuitati. D. D. F. B. D. B. ex voto.”

From these things, taken as faithfully as I possibly could from the deed of gift and from history, we see clearly the great antiquity of this sanctuary, since it is 893 years since the Image of the Lady was brought to the place where it now is; and although we do not know the exact year in which it was brought from Nazareth, it is certain at least that it was before King Recaredo, who began to reign in the year of Christ 586; so that it is 1021 years, a little more or less, since it came to Spain; and as it came then, as one well known, and celebrated for miracles in the parts of the East, it may well be understood that this is one of the most famous and ancient Images, and nearest to the times of the apostles, that the world at present possesses.—Brito Monarchia Lusitana, p. 2. l. 7. c. 4.

This legend cannot have been invented before Emanuel’s reign, for Duarte Galavam says nothing of it in his Chronicle of Affonso Henriquez, though he relates the exploits and death of D. Fuas Roupinho. I believe there is no earlier authority for it than Bernardo de Brito himself. It is one of many articles of the same kind from the great manufactory of Alcobaça, and is at this day as firmly believed by the people of Portugal as any article of the Christian faith. How indeed should they fail to believe it? I have a print, it is one of the most popular devotional prints in Portugal, which represents the miracle. The diabolical stag is flying down the precipice, and looking back with a wicked turn of the head, in hopes of seeing Dom Fuas follow him; the horse is rearing up with his hind feet upon the brink of the precipice; the knight has dropt his hunting-spear, his cocked hat is falling behind him, and an exclamation to the Virgin is coming out of his mouth. The Virgin with a crown upon her head, and the Babe with a crown upon his, at her breast, appear in the sky amidst clouds of glory. N. S. de Nazaré, is written above this precious print, and this more precious information below it,—O. Emo. Snr. Cardeal Patriarcha concede 50 dias de Indulgᵃ. a qm. rezar huma have Ma. diante desta Image. His Eminency the Cardinal Patriarch grants fifty days indulgence to whosoever shall say an Ave-Maria before this Image. The print is included, and plenty of Ave-Marias are said before it in full faith, for this Nossa Senhora de Nazaré is in high vogue. Before the French invasion, this famous Image used annually to be escorted by the Court to Cape Espichel. In 1796 I happened to be upon the Tagus at the time of her embarkation at Belem. She was carried in a sort of sedan-chair, of which the fashion resembled that of the Lord Mayor’s coach; a processional gun-boat preceded the Image and the Court, and I was literally caught in a shower of rockets, if any of which had fallen upon the heretical heads of me and my companion, it would not improbably have been considered as a new miracle, wrought by the wonder-working Senhora.

In July 1808, the French, under General Thomières, robbed this church of Our Lady of Nazareth; their booty, in jewels and plate, was estimated at more than 200,000 cruzados. Jose Accursio das Neves, the Portugueze historian of those disastrous times, expresses his surprise that no means should have been taken by those who had the care of these treasures, for securing them in time. Care, however, seems to have been taken of the Great Diana of the Temple, for though it is stated that they destroyed or injured several images, no mention is made of any insult or damage having been offered to this. They sacked the town and set fire to it, but it escaped with the loss of only thirteen or fourteen houses; the suburb or village, on the beach, was less fortunate: there only four houses of more than 300 remained unconsumed, and all the boats and fishing-nets were destroyed.—Historia da Invasam, &c., t. 4. p. 85.

Spreading his hands and lifting up his face, &c.—I. p. 8.

My friend Walter Scott’s Vision of Don Roderick supplies a singular contrast to the picture which is represented in this passage. I have great pleasure in quoting the stanzas; if the contrast had been intentional, it could not have been more complete.

But, far within, Toledo’s Prelate lent

An ear of fearful wonder to the King;

The silver lamp a fitful lustre sent,

So long that sad confession witnessing:

For Roderick told of many a hidden thing,

Such as are lothly utter’d to the air,

When Fear, Remorse, and Shame, the bosom wring,

And Guilt his secret burthen cannot bear,

And Conscience seeks in speech a respite from Despair.

Full on the Prelate’s face, and silver hair,

The stream of failing light was feebly roll’d;

But Roderick’s visage, though his head was bare,

Was shadow’d by his hand and mantle’s fold,

While of his hidden soul the sins he told,

Proud Alaric’s descendant could not brook,

That mortal man his bearing should behold,

Or boast that he had seen, when conscience shook,

Fear tame a monarch’s brow, remorse a warrior’s look.

This part of the story is thus nakedly stated by Dr. Andre da Sylva Mascarenhas, in a long narrative poem with this title,—A destruiçam de Espanha, Restauraçam Summaria de mesma.

Achouse o pobre Rey em Cauliniana

Mosteiro junto ao rio Guadiana.

Eram os frades fugidos do Mosteiro

Com receos dos Barbaros malvados,

De bruços esteve el Rey hum dia inteiro

Na Igreja, chorando seus peccados:

Hum Monge veo alli por derradeiro

A conhecer quem era, ouvindo os brados

Que o disfarçado Rey aos ares dava,

Este Monge Romano se chamava.

Perguntoulhe quem era, e donde vinha,

Por ver no pobre traje gram portento;

El Rey lhe respondeo como convinha

Sem declarar seu posto, ou seu intento;

Pediulhe confissam, e o Monge asinha

Lha concedeo e o Santo Sacramento

Era força que el Rey na confissam

Lhe declarasse o posto e a tencam.

Como entendeo o bom Religioso

Que aquelle era seu Rey que por estranhas

Terras andava roto e lacrimoso,

Mil ays tirou das intimas entranhas:

Lançouselhe aos pes, e com piedoso

Affecto o induziu e varias manhas,

O quizesse tambem levar consigo

Por socio no desterro e no perigo.—P. 27.

The fourth week of their painful pilgrimage.—I. p. 10.

Dias vinte e sete na passagem

Gastaram, desviandosse do humano

Trato, e maos encontros que este mundo

Tras sempre a quem busca o bem profundo.

Destruiçam de Espanha, p. 279.

Some new austerity, unheard of yet

In Syrian fields of glory, or the sands

Of holiest Egypt.—II. p. 17.

Egypt has been, from the earliest ages, the theatre of the most abject and absurd superstitions, and very little benefit was produced by a conversion which exchanged crocodiles and monkies for monks and mountebanks. The first monastery is said to have been established in that country by St. Anthony the Great, towards the close of the third century. He who rests in solitude, said the saint, is saved from three conflicts,—from the war of hearing, and of speech, and of sight; and he has only to maintain the struggle against his own heart. (Acta Sanctorum, t. ii. p. 143.) Indolence was not the only virtue which he and his disciples introduced into the catalogue of Christian perfections. S. Eufraxia entered a convent consisting of an hundred and thirty nuns, not one of whom had ever washed her feet; the very mention of the bath was an abomination to them.—(Acta Sanctorum, March 13.) St. Macarius had renounced most of the decencies of life; but he returned one day to his convent, humbled and mortified, exclaiming,—I am not yet a monk, but I have seen monks! for he had met two of these wretches stark naked.—Acta Sanctorum, i. p. 107.

The principles which these madmen established were, that every indulgence is sinful; that whatever is gratifying to the body, must be injurious to the soul; that in proportion as man inflicts torments upon himself, he pleases his Creator; that the ties of natural affection wean the heart from God; and that every social duty must be abandoned by him who would be perfect. The doctrine of two principles has never produced such practical evils in any other system as in the Romish. Manes, indeed, attributes all evil to the equal power of the Evil Principle, (that power being only for a time,) but some of the corrupted forms of Christianity actually exclude a good one!

There is a curious passage in the Bibliotheca Orientalis of Assemanus, in which the deserts are supposed to have been originally intended for the use of these saints, compensating for their sterility by the abundant crop of virtues which they were to produce! In illâ vero soli vastitate, quæ procul a Nili ripis quaquaversus latissime protenditur, non urbes, non domicilia, non agri, non arbores, sed desertum, arena, feræ; non tamen hanc terræ partem (ut Eucherii verbis utar) inutilem et inhonoratam dimisit Deus, quum in primordiis rerum omnia in sapientiâ faceret, et singula quæque futuris usibus apta distingueret; sed cuncta non magis præsentis magnificentiâ, quam futuri præscientiâ creans, venturis, ut arbitror, Sanctis Eremum paravit. Credo, his illam locupletem fructibus voluit, et pro indulgentioris naturæ vice, hanc Sanctorum dare fœcundiam, ut sic pinguescerent fines deserti: Et quum irrigaret de superioribus suis montes, abundaret quoque multiplicata fruge convalles locorumque damna supplicet, quum habitationem sterilem habitatore ditaret.

“If the ways of religion,” says South, “are ways of pleasantness, such as are not ways of pleasantness, are not truly and properly ways of religion. Upon which ground it is easy to see what judgement is to be passed upon all those affected, uncommanded, absurd austerities, so much prized and exercised by some of the Romish profession. Pilgrimages, going barefoot, hair-shirts and whips, with other such gospel-artillery, are their only helps to devotion; things never enjoined, either by the prophets under the Jewish, or by the apostles under the Christian economy, who yet surely understood the proper and the most efficacious instruments of piety, as well as any confessor or friar of all the order of St. Francis, or any casuist whatsoever.

“It seems that with them a man sometimes cannot be a penitent unless he also turns vagabond, and foots it to Jerusalem, or wanders over this or that part of the world to visit the shrines of such or such a pretended saint, though perhaps in his life ten times more ridiculous than themselves. Thus, that which was Cain’s error, is become their religion. He that thinks to expiate a sin by going barefoot, only makes one folly the atonement for another. Paul, indeed, was scourged and beaten by the Jews, but we never read that he beat or scourged himself; and if they think that his keeping under of his body imports so much, they must first prove that the body cannot be kept under by a virtuous mind, and that the mind cannot be made virtuous but by a scourge, and consequently that thongs and whip-cord are means of grace, and things necessary to salvation. The truth is, if men’s religion lies no deeper than their skin, it is possible that they may scourge themselves into very great improvements.

“But they will find that bodily exercise touches not the soul, and that neither pride, nor lust, nor covetousness, was ever mortified by corporal discipline; ’tis not the back, but the heart that must bleed for sin; and, consequently, that in their whole course they are like men out of their way; let them lash on never so fast, they are not at all the nearer to their journey’s end; and howsoever they deceive themselves and others, they may as well expect to bring a cart as a soul to Heaven by such means.”—Sermons, vol. i. p. 34.

In those weeds

Which never from the hour when to the grave

She follow’d her dear lord Theodofred,

Rusilla laid aside.—II. p. 18.

Vide nuper ipse in Hispaniis constitutis et admiratus sum antiquum hunc morem, ab Hispanis adhuc omnibus observari; mortuâ quippe uxore maritus, mortuo marito conjux, mortuis filiis patres, mortuis patribus filii, defunctis quibuslibet cognatis cognati, extinctis, quodlibet casu amicis amici, statim arma deponunt, sericas vestes, peregrinarum pellium tegmina abjiciunt, totumque penitus multi colorem, ac pretiosum habitum abdicantes, nigris tantum vilibusque indumentis se contegunt. Sic crinibus propriis sic jumentorum suorum caudis decurtatis, seque et ipsa atro prorsus colore denigrant. Talibus luctui dolorisve insignibus, subtractos charissimos deflent, et integri ad minus spatium anni, in tali mærore publica lege consumant.—Petri Venerabilis Epist. quoted in Yepes, t. vii. ff. 21.

Her eyeless husband.—II. p. 18.

Witiza put out the eyes of Theodofred, inhabilitandole para la monarchia, says Ferraras. This was the common mode of incapacitating a rival for the throne.

Un Conde de Gallicia que fuera valiado,

Pelayo avie nombre, ome fo desforzado,

Perdio la vision, andaba embargado,

Ca ome que non vede, non debie seer nado.

Gonzalo de Berceo. S. Dom. 388.

The history of Europe during the dark ages abounds with examples of exoculation, as it was called by those writers who endeavoured, towards the middle of the 17th century, to introduce the style-ornate into our prose after it had been banished from poetry. In the East, the practice is still continued. When Alboquerque took possession of Ormuz, he sent to Portugal fifteen of its former kings, whom he found there, each of whom, in his turn, had been deposed and blinded!

In the semi-barbarous stage of society, any kind of personal blemish seems to have been considered as disqualifying a prince from the succession, like the law of the Nazarenes. Yorwerth, the son of Owen Gwynedh, was set aside in Wales because of his broken nose; Count Oliba, in Barcelona, because he could never speak till he had stamped with his foot three times like a goat. Aquest Oliba frare del Conte en Grifa no era a dret de sos membras. Car lo dit Oliba james no podia parlar, si primer no donas colps ab lo peu en terra quart o sinc vegades, axi comsi fos cabra; e per aquesta raho li fou imposat lo nom, dient li Olibra Cabreta, e per aquest accident lo dit Oliba perde la successio del frare en lo Comtat de Barcelona, e fou donat lo dit Comtat o en Borrell, Comte de Urgell, qui era son cosin germa.—Père Tomich, c. xxviii. ff. 20.

In the treaty between our Henry V. and Charles VI. of France, by which Henry was appointed King of France after Charles’s decease, it was decreed that the French should “swear to become liege men and vassals to our said son King Henry, and obey him as the true King of France, and without any opposition or dispute shall receive him as such, and never pay obedience to any other as king or regent of France, but to our said son King Henry, unless our said son should lose life or limb, or be attacked by a mortal disease, or suffer diminution in person, state, honour[9], or goods.”

Lope de Vega alludes to the blindness of Theodofred in his Jerusalem Conquistada:—

Criavase con otras bellas damas

Florinda bella,——

Esta miro Rodrigo desdichado,

Ay si como su padre fuera ciego!

Saco sus ojos Witisa ayrado,

Fuera mejor los de Rodrigo luego:

Gozara España el timbre coronado

De sus castillos en mayor sossiego

Que le dio Leovigildo, y no se viera

Estampa de Africano en su ribera.

L. vi. ff. 131.

A remarkable instance of the inconvenient manner in which the b and the v are indiscriminately used by the Spaniards, occurs here in the original edition. The w not being used in that language, it would naturally be represented by vv; and here, the printer, using most unluckily his typographical licence, has made the word Vbitisa.

“The Spaniards,” says that late worthy Jo. Sandford, some time fellow of Magdalane college, in Oxford, (in his Spanish Grammar, 1632) “do with a kind of wantonness so confound the sound of b with v, that it is hard to determine when and in what words it should retain its own power of a labial letter, which gave just cause of laughter at that Spaniard who, being in conversation with a French lady, and minding to commend her children for fair, said unto her, using the Spanish liberty in pronouncing the French,—Madame, vous avez des veaux enfans, telling her that she had calves to her children, instead of saying, beaux enfans, fair children. Neither can I well justify him who wrote veneficio for beneficio.”

Conimbrica, whose ruined towers

Bore record of the fierce Alani’s wrath.—III. p. 24.

The Roman Conimbrica stood about two leagues from the present Coimbra, on the site of Condeyxa Velha. Ataces, king of the Alanes, won it from the Sueves, and, in revenge for its obstinate resistance, dispeopled it, making all its inhabitants, without distinction of persons, work at the foundation of Coimbra where it now stands. Hermenerico, the king of the Sueves, attacked him while thus employed, but was defeated and pursued to the Douro; peace was then made, and Sindasunda, daughter of the conquered, given in marriage to the conqueror. In memory of the pacification thus effected, Ataces bore upon his banners a damsel in a tower, with a dragon vert on one side, and a lion rouge on the other, the bearings of himself and his marriage-father; and this device being sculptured upon the towers of Coimbra, still remains as the city arms. Two letters of Arisbert, bishop of Porto, to Samerius, archdeacon of Braga, which are preserved at Alcobaça, relate these events as the news of the day,—that is, if the authority of Alcobaçan records, and of Bernardo de Brito can be admitted.—Mon. Lus. 26. 3.

Ataces was an Arian, and therefore made the Catholic bishops and priests work at his new city, but his queen converted him.

Mumadona.—III. p. 25.

Gasper Estaço has shown that this is the name of the foundress of Guimaraens, and that it is not, as some writers had supposed, erroneously thus written, because the words Muma and Dona followed each other in the deeds of gift wherein it is preserved; the name being frequently found with its title affixed thus, Dma Mumadna.

——the banks

Of Lima, through whose groves in after years,

Mournful yet sweet, Diogo’s amorous lute

Prolong’d its tuneful echoes.—III. p. 27.

Diogo Bernardes, one of the best of the Portugueze poets, was born on the banks of the Lima, and passionately fond of its scenery. Some of his sonnets will bear comparison with the best poems of their kind. There is a charge of plagiarism against him for having printed several of Camoens’s sonnets as his own; to obtain any proofs upon this subject would be very difficult; this, however, is certain, that his own undisputed productions resemble them so closely in unaffected tenderness, and in sweetness of diction, that the whole appear like the works of one author.

Auria itself is now but one wide tomb

For all its habitants.—III. p. 29.

The present Orense. The Moors entirely destroyed it; depopulavit usque ad solum, are the words of one of the old brief chronicles. In 832, Alonzo el Casto found it too completely ruined to be restored.—Espana Sagrada, xvii. p. 48.

That consecrated pile amid the wild,

Which sainted Fructuoso in his zeal

Rear’d to St. Felix, on Visonia’s banks.—IV. p. 38.

Of this saint, and the curious institutions which he formed, and the beautiful track of country in which they were placed, I have given an account in the third edition of Letters from Spain and Portugal, vol. i. p. 103.

Sacaru ... indignantly

Did he toward the ocean bend his way,

And shaking from his feet the dust of Spain,

Took ship, and hoisted sail through seas unknown

To seek for freedom.—IV. p. 43.

This tale, which is repeated by Bleda, rests on no better authority than that of Abulcacim[10], which may, however, be admitted, so far as to show that it was a prevalent opinion in his time.

Antonio Galvam, in his Tratado dos Descobrimentos Antigos e Modernos, relates a current, and manifestly fabulous story, which has been supposed to refer to Sacaru, and the companions of his emigration. “They say,” he says, “that at this time, A. D. 1447, a Portugueze ship sailing out of the Straits of Gibraltar, was carried by a storm much farther to the west than she had intended, and came to an island where there were seven cities, and where our language was spoken; and the people asked whether the Moors still occupied Spain, from whence they had fled after the loss of King Don Rodrigo. The contramaster of the ship said, that he brought away a little sand from the island, and sold it to a goldsmith in Lisbon, who extracted from it a good quantity of gold. It is said that the Infante D. Pedro, who governed at that time, ordered these things to be written in the Casa do Tombo. And some will have it that these lands and islands at which the Portugueze touched, were those which are now called the Antilhas and New Spain.” (P. 24.)

This Antilia, or Island of the Seven Cities, is laid down in Martin Behaim’s map; the story was soon improved by giving seven bishops to the seven cities: and Galvam has been accused by Hornius of having invented it to give his countrymen the honour of having discovered the West Indies! Now it is evident that Antonio Galvam relates the story as if he did not believe it,—contam—they relate,—and, diz, it is said,—never affirming the fact, nor making any inference from it, but merely stating it as a report: and it is certain, which perhaps Hornius did not know, that there never lived a man of purer integrity than Antonio Galvam; a man whose history is disgraceful, not to his country, but to the government under which he lived, and whose uniform and unsullied virtue entitles him to rank among the best men that have ever done honour to human nature.

The writers who repeat this story of the Seven Islands and their bishops, have also been pleased to find traces of Sacaru in the new world, for which the imaginary resemblances to Christianity which were found in Yucatan and other places, serve them as proofs.—Gregorio Garcia, Origen de los Indios, l. iv. c. 20.

The work of Abulcacim, in which the story first appears, has been roundly asserted to be the forgery of the translator, Miguel de Luna. The Portugueze academician, Contador de Argote, speaking of this romantic history, acquits him of the fraud, which has with little reflection been laid to his charge. Pedraça, he says, in the Grandezas de Granada, and Rodrigo Caro, in the Grandezas de Sevilla, both affirm that the original Arabic exists in the Escurial, and Escolano asserts the same, although Nicholas Antonio says that the catalogues of that library do not make mention of any such book. If Luna had forged it, it would not have had many of those blunders which are observed in it; nor is there any reason for imputing such a fraud to Luna, a man well skilled in Arabic, and of good reputation. What I suspect is, that the book was composed by a Granadan Moor, and the reason which induces me to form this opinion is, the minuteness with which he describes the conquest which Tarif made of those parts of the kingdom of Granada, of the Alpuxarras and the Serra Neveda, pointing out the etymologies of the names of places, and other circumstances, which any one who reads with attention will observe. As to the time in which the composer of this amusing romance flourished, it was certainly after the reign of Bedeci Aben Habuz, who governed, and was Lord of Granada about the year 1013, as Marmol relates, after the Arabian writers; and the reason which I have for this assertion is, that in the romance of Abulcacim the story is told which gave occasion to the said Bedeci Aben Habuz to set up in Granada that famous vane, which represents a knight upon horseback in bronze, with a spear in the right hand, and a club in the left, and these words in Arabic,—Bedeci Aben Habuz says, that in this manner Andalusia must be kept! the figure moves with every wind, and veers about from one end to another.—Memorias de Braga, t. iii. p. 120.

In the fabulous Chronicle of D. Rodrigo, Sacarus, as he is there called, is a conspicuous personage; but the tale of his emigration was not then current, and the author kills him before the Moors appear upon the stage. He seems to have designed him as a representation of perfect generosity.

All too long,

Here in their own inheritance, the sons

Of Spain have groan’d beneath a foreign yoke.—IV. p. 43.

There had been a law to prohibit intermarriages between the Goths and Romans; this law Recesuintho annulled[11] observing in his edict, that the people ought in no slight degree to rejoice at the repeal. It is curious that the distinction should have existed so long; but it is found also in a law of Wamba’s, and doubtless must have continued till both names were lost together in the general wreck. The vile principle was laid down in the laws of the Wisigoths, that such as the root is, such ought the branch to be,—gran confusion es de linage, quando el fiyo non semeya al padre, que aquelo ques de la raiz, deba ser en a cima, and upon this principle a law was made to keep the children of slaves, slaves also.

“Many men well versed in history,” says Contador de Argote, (Memorias de Braga, 3. 273.) “think, and think rightly, that this was a civil war, and that the monarchy was divided into two factions, of which the least powerful availed itself of the Arabs as auxiliaries; and that these auxiliaries made themselves masters, and easily effected their intent by means of the divisions in the country.”

“The natives of Spain,” says Joam de Barros, “never bore much love to the Goths, who were strangers and comelings, and when they came had no right there, for the whole belonged to the Roman empire. It is believed that the greater part of those whom the Moors slew were Goths, and it is said that, on one side and on the other, in the course of two years there were slain by the sword seven hundred thousand men. The Christians who escaped chose that the name of Goths should be lost: and though some Castillians complain that the race should be extinguished, saying with Don Jorge Manrique,

Pues la sangre de los Godos

y el linage y la nobleza

tan crecida,

por quantas vias y modos

se sume su grande alteza

en esta vida,

I must say that I see no good foundation for this; for they were a proud nation and barbarous, and were a long time heretics of the sects of Arius and Eutychius and Pelagius, and can be praised as nothing except as warriors, who were so greedy for dominion, that wherever they reached they laid every thing bare like locusts, and therefore the emperor ceded to them this country. The people who dwelt in it before were a better race, always praised and feared and respected by the Romans, loyal and faithful and true and reasonable: and if the Goths afterwards were worthy of any estimation they became so here: for as plants lose their bitterness and improve by being planted and translated into a good soil (as is said of peaches), so does a good land change its inhabitants, and of rustic and barbarous make them polished and virtuous.

“The Moors did not say that they came against the Christians, but against the Goths, who had usurped Spain; and it appears that to the people of the land it mattered little whether they were under Goths or Moors; or indeed it might not be too much to say that they preferred the Moors, not only because all new things and changes would be pleasing, but because they were exasperated against the Goths for what they had done against the Christians, (i. e. the Catholicks,) and for the bad government of King Witiza.”

“You are not to think,” says the Chronicler, “that Count Don Julian and the Bishop Don Orpas came of the lineage of the Goths, but of the lineage of the Cæsars, and therefore they were not grieved that the good lineage should be destroyed.”—Chr. del K. D. Rodrigo, p. i. c. 248.

Favila.—V. p. 48.

Barrios, taking a punster’s licence in orthography, plays upon the name of Pelayo’s father:—

——del gran Favila (que centella

significa) Pelayo, marcial llama,

restauro el Leones reyno con aquella

luz que alcanzo la victoriosa rama.

Coro de las Musas, p. 102.

The Queen too, Egilona,—

Was she not married to the enemy,

The Moor, the Misbeliever?—V. p. 50.

For this fact there is the unquestionable testimony of Isidorus Pacensis. Per idem tempus in Æra 735, anno imperii ejus 9. Arabum 97. Abdalaziz omnem Hispaniam per tres annos sub censuario jugo pacificans, cum Hispali divitiis et honorum fascibus cum Regina Hispaniæ in conjugio copulata, filias Regum ac Principum pellicatas, et imprudenter distractas æstuaret, seditione suorum facta, orationi instans, consilio Ajub, occiditur; atque eo Hispaniam retinente, mense impleto, Alahor in regno Hesperiæ per principalia jussa succedit, cui de morte Abdallaziz ita edicitur. ut quasi consilio Egilonis Regiæ conjugis quondam Ruderici regis, quam sibi sociaberat, jugum Arabicum a sua cervice conaretur avertere, et regnum in vasum Hiberiæ sibimet retemptare.—Espana Sagrada, t. viii. 302.

Florez relates the story in the words of the old translation of an Arabic original imputed to Rasis. “When Belazin, the son of Muza, remained for Lord of Spain, and had ordered his affairs right well, they told him tidings of Ulaca, who had been the wife of King D. Rodrigo, that she was a right worthy dame, and right beautiful, and of a great lineage, and that she was a native of Africa; whereupon he sent for her, and ordered that beasts should be given her, and much property, and men-servants and maid-servants, and all things that she could require, till she could come to him. And they brought her unto him, and when he saw her, he was well pleased with her, and said, Ulaca, tell me of thy affairs, and conceal nothing from me; for thou knowest I may do with thee according to my will, being my captive. And when she heard this, it increased the grief which she had in her heart, and her sorrow was such, that she had well nigh fallen dead to the ground, and she replied weeping and said, Baron, what wouldst thou know more of my affairs? For doth not all the world know, that I, a young damsel, being married with King D. Rodrigo, was with him Lady of Spain, and dwelt in honour and in all pleasure, more than I deserved; and therefore it was God’s will that they should endure no longer. And now I am in dishonour greater than ever was dame of such high state: For I am plundered, and have not a single palm of inheritance; and I am a captive, and brought into bondage. I also have been mistress of all the land that I behold. Therefore, Sir, have pity upon my misfortunes; and in respect of the great lineage which you know to be mine, suffer not that wrong or violence be offered me by any one; and, Sir, if it be your grace you will ransom me. There are men I know who would take compassion on me, and give you for me a great sum. And Belazin said to her, Be certain that so long as I live, you shall never go from my house. And Ulaca said, What then, Sir, would you do with me? and Belazin said, I will that you should remain in my house, and there you shall be free from all wretchedness, with my other wives. And she said, In an evil day was I born, if it is to be true that I have been wife of the honoured king of Spain, and now have to live in a stranger’s house as the concubine and captive of another! And I swear unto God, whose pleasure it is to dismay me thus, that I will rather seek my own death as soon as I can; for I will endure no more misery, seeing that by death I can escape it. And when Belazin saw that she thus lamented, he said to her, Good dame, think not that we have concubines, but by our law we may have seven wives, if we can maintain them, and therefore you shall be my wife, like each of the others; and all things which your law requires that a man should do for his wife, will I do for you; and therefore you have no cause to lament; and be sure that I will do you much honour, and will make all who love me serve and honour you, and you shall be mistress of all my wives. To this she made answer and said, Sir, offer me no violence concerning my law, but let me live as a Christian: And to this Belazin was nothing loth and he granted it, and his marriage was performed with her according to the law of the Moors; and every day he liked her more, and did her such honour that greater could not be. And it befell that Belazin being one day with Ulaca, she said to him, Sir, do not think it ill if I tell you of a thing in which you do not act as if you knew the custom. And he said, Wherein is it that I err? Sir, said she, because you have no crown, for no one was ever confirmed in Spain, except he had a crown upon his head. He said, This which you say is nothing, for we have it not of our lineage, neither is it our custom to wear a crown. She said, many good reasons are there why a crown is of use, and it would injure you nothing, but be well for you, and when you should wear your crown upon your head, God would know you and others also by it: And she said, You would look full comely with it, and it would be great nobleness to you, and be right fitting, and you should wear in it certain stones, which will be good for you, and avail you. And in a short time afterwards Belazin went to dwell at Seville, and he carried Ulaca with him, and she took of her gold, and of her pearls, and of her precious stones, which she had many and good, and made him the noblest crown that ever was seen by man, and gave it him, and bade him take it, and place it where it should be well kept; and Ulaca, as she was a woman of understanding and prudence, ordered her affairs as well as Belazin, so that he loved her much, and did great honour to her, and did many of those things which she desired; so that he was well pleased with the Christians, and did them much good, and showed favour unto them.”—Memorias de las Reynas Catholicas, 1. p. 28.

The issue of this was fatal to Abdalaziz. In Albucacim’s history, it is said that he was converted by this Christian wife, and for that reason put to death by his father. Others have supposed that by means of her influence he was endeavouring to make himself King of Spain, independent of the Caliph. A characteristic circumstance is added. Egilona was very desirous to convert her husband, and that she might at least obtain from him some mark of outward respect for her images, made the door of the apartment in which she kept them, so low, that he could not enter without bowing.—Bleda, p. 214.

Deixam a Abdalaziz, que de Bellona

Mamara o leite, por Rector da Hesperia;

Este caza co a inclyta Egilona,

Mulher de Dom Rodrigo, (o gram miseria!)

Tomou Coroa de ouro, e a Matrona

Lhe deu para a tomar larga materia,

Foi notado à misera raynha

Cazarse com hum Mouro tarn asinha.

Destruiçam de Espanha, p. 237.

The Character of this Queen is beautifully conceived by the author of Count Julian:—

Beaming with virtue inaccessible

Stood Egilona; for her lord she lived,

And for the heavens that raised her sphere so high:

All thoughts were on her—all beside her own.

Negligent as the blossoms of the field,

Arrayed in candour and simplicity,

Before her path she heard the streams of joy

Murmur her name in all their cadences,

Saw them in every scene, in light, in shade,

Reflect her image; but acknowledged them

Hers most complete when flowing from her most.

All things in want of her, herself of none,

Pomp and dominion lay beneath her feet

Unfelt and unregarded: now behold

The earthly passions war against the heavenly!

Pride against love; ambition and revenge

Against devotion and compliancy—

Her glorious beams adversity hath blunted,

And coming nearer to our quiet view,

The original clay of coarse mortality

Hardens and flaws around her.

One day of bitter and severe delight.—VI. p. 60.

I have ventured to borrow this expression from the tragedy of Count Julian. Nothing can be finer than the passage in which it occurs.

Abdalazis. Thou lovest still thy country?

Julian. Abdalazis,

All men with human feelings love their country.

Not the high-born or wealthy man alone,

Who looks upon his children, each one led

By its gay hand-maid, from the high alcove,

And hears them once a-day; not only he

Who hath forgotten, when his guest inquires

The name of some far village all his own;

Whose rivers bound the province, and whose hills

Touch the last cloud upon the level sky:

No; better men still better love their country.

’Tis the old mansion of their earliest friends,

The chapel of their first and best devotions;

When violence, or perfidy, invades,

Or when unworthy lords hold wassail there,

And wiser heads are drooping round its moats,

At last they fix their steady and stiff eye

There, there alone—stand while the trumpet blows,

And view the hostile flames above its towers

Spire, with a bitter and severe delight.

Restoring in thy native line, O Prince,

The sceptre to the Spaniard.—VII. p. 71.

This was a favourite opinion of Garibays, himself a Biscayan, but he has little better proof for it than the fact, that Gothic names disappeared with Roderick, and that Pelayo and his successors drew their nomenclature from a different stock. He says, indeed, that ancient writings are not wanting to support his opinion. Some rude commentator has written against this assertion in the margin of my copy, miente Garibay; and I am afraid the commentator is the truer man of the two.

There is a fabulous tale of Pelayo’s birth, which, like many other tales of no better authority, has legends and relics to support it. The story, according to Dr. D. Christoval Lozano, in his history of Los Reyes Nuevos de Toledo, is this. Luz, niece to Egilona, and sister of Roderick, dwelt at Toledo, in the palace of King Egica. Duke Favila, her father’s brother, fell in love with her, and came from his residence in Cantabria to ask her in marriage, expecting to find no other obstacle than the dispensable one of consanguinity. But it so happened, that the King was wooing Luz to become his concubine; her refusal made him jealous, as he could not conceive that it proceeded from any cause except love for another, and as his temper and power were not to be provoked without danger, Favila dared not openly make his suit. He and his mistress therefore met in private, and plighted their vows before an image of the Virgin. The consequences soon became apparent,—the more so, because, as Dr Lozano assures us, there were at that time no fashions to conceal such things,—Y mas que en aquella era no se avian inventado los guarda-infantes. The king observed the alteration in her shape, and placed spies upon her, meaning to destroy the child and punish the mother with the rigour of the law, death by fire being the punishment for such an offence. Luz was well aware of the danger. She trusted her Camarera and one servant: They made an ark: She herself, as soon as the infant was born, threw water in his face, and baptised him by the name of Pelayo: a writing was placed with him in the ark, requesting that whoever should find it would breed up the boy with care, for he was of good lineage. Money enough was added to support him for eight years, and the ark was then launched upon the Tagus, where it floated down the stream all night, all day, and all the following night. On the second morning it grounded near Alcantara, and was found by Grafeses, who happened to be Luz’s uncle. The king’s suspicion being confirmed by the sudden alteration in the lady’s appearance, he used every means to detect her, but without avail; he even ordered all children to be examined who had been born in or around Toledo within three months, and full enquiry to be made into the circumstances of their births: To the astonishment of later historians, 35,000 of that age were found, and not one among them of suspicious extraction. The tale proceeds in the ordinary form of romance. The lady is accused of incontinence, and to be burnt, unless a champion defeats her accuser. Favila of course undertakes her defence, and of course is victorious. A second battle follows with the same success, and fresh combats would have followed, if a hermit had not brought the king to repentance. Grafeses in due time discovers the secret, and restores the child to his parents.

This fabulous chronicle seems to be the oldest written source of this story, but some such tradition had probably long been current. The ark was shown at Alcantara, in the convent of St. Benito, and a description of it, with reasons why its authenticity should be admitted, may be found in Francisco de Pisa’s Description de Toledo, l. iii. c. i.

And in thy name,

Accept the Crown of Thorns she proffers me.—VII. p. 72.

Godfrey was actually crowned with thorns in Jerusalem,—a circumstance which has given rise to a curious question in heraldry,—thus curiously stated and commented by Robert Barret, in that part of his long poem which relates to this Prince:—

To free man from Hell.

A Prince religious, if ever any,

Considering the age wherein he lived,

Vice-hater great, endued with virtues many,

True humilized, void of mundane pride;

For though he now created were great king,

Yet would he not as royal pomp requires,

Encrowned be with crownet glistering

Of gold and gems to mundains vain desires;

But with a pricking, pricking crown of thorn,

Bearing thereto a Christian reverence,

Sith Heaven’s King, man’s-Redeemer, did not scorn

To wear such crown within that city’s fence,

When as, cross-loden, humblely he went,

All cowring under burden of that wood,

To pay the pain of man’s due punishment,

And free from Pluto’s bands Prometheus brood.

The foolishness of Heralds.

By reas’n of Godfrey’s great humility

Refusing golden-crownets dignity,

Some blundering in world-witted heraldry,

Not knowing how t’ distinguish vertues trye,

Do question make this Christian king to set

In catalogue of gold-diademed kings;

Regarding glitter of the external jet,

And not true garnish of th’ internal things;

Th’ internal virtues, soul’s sweet ornaments,

So pleasing to th’ Eternal’s sacred eyes,

In angels chore consorting sweet concents

Of heavenly harmony ’bove christal skies.

But we, è contra, him not only deem

A Christian king, but perfect Christian king,

A christal fanal, lamping light divine

To after-comer kings, world emp’rizing.

For he, religious prince, did not despise

The Heaven-sent gift to be anointed king,

But disesteem’d the mundane pompous guise

Tickling the hearts of princes monarching.

Annotacion.

Potentates regard this heaven-aspiring Prince,

Not priding, as up proves his dignity;

High throned kings aspect the starred fence

Of this true map of true kings royalty;

Not Nembrothizing in cloud-kissing towers,

Not Semiramizing in prides palaces,

Not Neronizing in all sanguine hours,

Not Heliogabalizing in lusts lees;

But Joshuadizing in his Christian camp,

And Judithizing in his Salem’s seat,

And Davidizing in his Sion’s stamp,

And Solomonizing in all sacred heat.

Outwatching for her sake

The starry host, and ready for the work

Of day before the sun begins his course.—VIII. p. 78.

Garci Fernandez Manrique surprised the Moors so often during the night, that he was called Garci Madrugi,—an appellation of the same import as Peep-of-day-boy. He founded the convent of St. Salvador de Palacios de Benagel for Benedictine nuns, and when he called up his merry men, used to say, Up, sirs, and fight, for my nuns are up and praying; Levantaos Señores à pelear, que mis monjas son levantadas a rezar.—Pruebas de la Hist. de la Casa de Lara, p. 42.

Hermesind.—X. p. 88.

Mariana derives the name of Hermesinda from the reverence in which Hermenegild was held in Spain,—a prince who has been sainted for having renounced the Homooisian creed, and raised a civil war against his father in favour of the Homoousian one. It is not a little curious when the fate of D. Carlos is remembered, that his name should have been inserted in the Kalendar, at the solicitation of Philip II.! From the same source Mariana derives the names Hermenisinda, Armengol, Ermengaud, Hermegildez, and Hermildez. But here, as Brito has done with Pelayo, he seems to forget that the name was current before it was borne by the Saint, and the derivations from it as numerous. Its root may be found in Herman, whose German name will prevail over the latinized Arminius.

The glen where Tagus rolls between his rocks.—X. p. 95.

The story of the Enchanted Tower at Toledo is well known to every English reader. It neither accorded with the character of my poem to introduce the fiction, nor would it have been prudent to have touched upon it after Walter Scott. The account of the Archbishop Rodrego, and of Abulcacim, may be found in his notes. What follows here is translated from the fabulous chronicle of King Don Rodrigo.

“And there came to him the keepers of the house which was in Toledo, which they called Pleasure with Pain, the Perfect Guard, the secret of that which is to come; and it was called also by another name, the Honour of God. And these keepers came before the king, and said unto him, Sire, since God hath done thee such good, and such favour as that thou shouldest be king of all Spain, we come to require of thee that thou wouldst go to Toledo, and put thy lock upon the house which we are appointed to keep. And the king demanded of them what house was that, and wherefore he should put upon it his lock. And they said unto him, Sire, we will willingly tell thee that thou mayest know. Sire, true it is, that when Hercules the Strong came into Spain, he made in it many marvellous things in those places where he understood that they might best remain; and thus when he was in Toledo he understood well that that city would be one of the best in Spain; and saw that the kings who should be Lords of Spain, would have more pleasure to continue dwelling therein than in any other part; and seeing that things would come after many ways, some contrariwise to others, it pleased him to leave many enchantments made, to the end that after his death his power and wisdom might by them be known. And he made in Toledo a house, after the manner which we shall now describe, with great mastership, so that we have not heard tell of any other such: The which is made after this guise. There are four lions of metal under the foundation of this house: and so large are they that a man sitting upon a great horse on the one side, and another in like manner upon the other, cannot see each other, so large are the lions. And the house is upon them, and it is entirely round, and so lofty that there is not a man in the world who can throw a stone to the top: And many have attempted this, but they never could. And there is not a man of this age who can tell you by what manner this house was made, neither whose understanding can reach to say in what manner it is worked within. But of that which we have seen without, we have to tell thee. Certes in the whole house there is no stone bigger than the hand of a man, and the most of them are of jasper and marble, so clear and shining that they seem to be crystal. They are of so many colours that we do not think there are two stones in it of the same colour; and so cunningly are they joined one with another, that if it were not for the many colours, you would not believe but that the whole house was made of one entire stone. And the stones are placed in such manner one by another, that seeing them you may know all the things of the battles aforepast, and of great feats. And this is not by pictures, but the colour of the stones, and the great art of joining one with the other, make it appear thus. And sans doubt he who should wish to know the truth of the great deeds of arms which have been wrought in the world, might by means of that house know it. See now in what manner Hercules was wise and fortunate, and right valiant, and acquainted with the things which were to come. And when he was Lord of Spain, he made it after this guise, which we have related unto you. And he commanded that neither King nor Lord of Spain who might come after him, should seek to know that which was within; but that every one instead should put a lock upon the doors thereof, even as he himself did, for he first put on a lock, and fastened it with his key. And after him there has been no King nor Lord in Spain, who has thought it good to go from his bidding; but every one as he came put on each his lock, according to that which Hercules appointed. And now that we have told thee the manner of the house, and that which we know concerning it, we require of thee that thou shouldest go thither, and put on thy lock on the gates thereof, even as all the kings have done who have reigned in Spain until this time. And the King Don Rodrigo hearing the marvellous things of this house, and desiring to know what there was within, and moreover being a man of a great heart, wished to know of all things how they were and for what guise. He made answer, that no such lock would he put upon that house, and that by all means he would know what there was within. And they said unto him, Sire, you will not do that which has never been done in Spain; be pleased therefore to observe that which the other kings have observed. And the king said unto them, Leave off now, and I will appoint the soonest that may be how I may go to see this house, and then I will do that which shall seem good. And he would give them no other reply. And when they saw that he would give them no other reply, they dared not persist farther, and they dispeeded themselves of him, and went their way.

“Now it came to pass that the King Don Rodrigo called to mind how he had been required to put a lock upon the doors of the house which was in Toledo, and he resolved to carry into effect that unto which his heart inclined him. And one day he gathered together all the greatest knights of Spain, who were there with him, and went to see this house, and he saw that it was more marvellous than those who were its keepers had told him, and as he was thus beholding it, he said, Friends, I will by all means see what there is in this house which Hercules made. And when the great Lords who were with him heard this, they began to say unto him that he ought not to do this; for there was no reason why he should do that which never king nor Cæsar, that had been Lord of Spain since Hercules, had done until that time. And the king said unto them, Friends, in this house there is nothing but what may be seen. I am well sure that the enchantments cannot hinder me, and this being so, I have nothing to fear. And the knights said, Do that, sir, which you think good, but this is not done by our counsel. And when he saw that they were all of a different accord from that which he wished to do, he said, Now gainsay me as you will, for let what will happen I shall not forbear to do my pleasure. And forthwith he went to the doors, and ordered all the locks to be opened; and this was a great labour, for so many were the keys and the locks, that if they had not seen it, it would have been a great thing to believe. And after they were unlocked, the king pushed the door with his hand, and he went in, and the chief persons who were there with him, as many as he pleased, and they found a hall made in a square, being as wide on one part as on the other, and in it there was a bed richly furnished, and there was laid in that bed the statue of a man, exceeding great, and armed at all points, and he had the one arm stretched out, and a writing in his hand. And when the king and those who were with him saw this bed, and the man who was laid in it, they marvelled what it might be, and they said, Certes, that bed was one of the wonders of Hercules and of his enchantments. And when they saw the writing which he held in his hand, they showed it to the king, and the king went to him, and took it from his hand, and opened it and read it, and it said thus, Audacious one, thou who shalt read this writing, mark well what thou art, and how great evil through thee shall come to pass, for even as Spain was peopled and conquered by me, so by thee shall it be depopulated and lost. And I say unto thee, that I was Hercules the strong, he who conquered the greater part of the world, and all Spain; and I slew Geryon the Great, who was Lord thereof; and I alone subdued all these lands of Spain, and conquered many nations, and brave knights, and never any one could conquer me, save only Death. Look well to what thou doest, for from this world thou wilt carry with thee nothing but the good which thou hast done.

“And when the king had read the writing he was troubled, and he wished then that he had not begun this thing. Howbeit he made semblance as if it touched him not, and said that no man was powerful enough to know that which is to come, except the true God. And all the knights who were present were much troubled because of what the writing said; and having seen this they went to behold another apartment, which was so marvellous, that no man can relate how marvellous it was. The colours which were therein were four. The one part of the apartment was white as snow; and the other, which was over-against it, was more black than pitch; and another part was green as a fine emerald, and that which was over-against it was redder than fresh blood; and the whole apartment was bright and more lucid than crystal, and it was so beautiful, and the colour thereof so fine, that it seemed as if each of the sides were made of a single stone, and all who were there present said that there was not more than a single stone in each, and that there was no joining of one stone with another, for every side of the whole four appeared to be one solid slab; and they all said, that never in the world had such a work as this elsewhere been made, and that it must be held for a remarkable thing, and for one of the wonders of the world. And in all the apartments there was no beam, nor any work of wood, neither within nor without; and as the floor thereof was flat, so also was the ceiling. Above these were windows, and so many, that they gave a great light, so that all which was within might be seen as clearly as that which was without. And when they had seen the apartment how it was made, they found in it nothing but one pillar, and that not very large, and round, and of the height of a man of mean stature: and there was a door in it right cunningly made, and upon it was a little writing in Greek letters, which said, Hercules made this house in the year of Adam three hundred and six. And when the king had read these letters, and understood that which they said, he opened the door, and when it was opened they found Hebrew letters which said, This house is one of the wonders of Hercules; and when they had read these letters they saw a niche made in that pillar, in which was a coffer of silver, right subtly wrought, and after a strange manner, and it was gilded, and covered with many precious stones, and of great price, and it was fastened with a lock of mother-of-pearl. And this was made in such a manner that it was a strange thing, and there were cut upon it Greek letters which said, It cannot be but that the king, in whose time this coffer shall be opened, shall see wonders before his death: thus said Hercules the Lord of Greece and of Spain, who knew some of those things which are to come. And when the king understood this, he said, Within this coffer lies that which I seek to know, and which Hercules has so strongly forbidden to be known. And he took the lock and broke it with his hands, for there was no other who durst break it: and when the lock was broken, and the coffer open, they found nothing within, except a white cloth folded between two pieces of copper; and he took it and opened it, and found Moors pourtrayed therein with turbans, and banners in their hands and with their swords round their necks, and their bows behind them at the saddle-bow, and over these figures were letters which said, When this cloth shall be opened, and these figures seen, men apparelled like them shall conquer Spain and shall be Lords thereof.

“When the King Don Rodrigo saw this he was troubled at heart, and all the knights who were with him. And they said unto him, Now, sir, you may see what has befallen you, because you would not listen to those who counselled you not to pry into so great a thing, and because you despised the kings who were before you, who all observed the commands of Hercules, and ordered them to be observed, but you would not do this. And he had greater trouble in his heart than he had ever before felt; howbeit he began to comfort them all, and said to them, God forbid that all this which we have seen should come to pass. Nevertheless, I say, that if things must be according as they are here declared, I could not set aside that which hath been ordained, and, therefore, it appears that I am he by whom this house was to be opened, and that for me it was reserved. And seeing it is done, there is no reason that we should grieve for that which cannot be prevented, if it must needs come. And let come what may, with all my power I will strive against that which Hercules has foretold, even till I take my death in resisting it: and if you will all do in like manner, I doubt whether the whole world can take from us our power. But if by God it hath been appointed, no strength and no art can avail against his Almighty power, but that all things must be fulfilled even as to him seemeth good. In this guise they went out of the house, and he charged them all that they should tell no man of what they had seen there, and ordered the doors to be fastened in the same manner as before. And they had hardly finished fastening them, when they beheld an eagle fall right down from the sky, as if it had descended from Heaven, carrying a burning fire-brand, which it laid upon the top of the house, and began to fan it with its wings: and the fire-brand with the motion of the air began to blaze, and the house was kindled and burnt as if it had been made of rosin; so strong and mighty were the flames and so high did they blaze up, that it was a great marvel, and it burnt so long that there did not remain the sign of a single stone, and all was burnt into ashes. And after a while there came a great flight of birds small and black, who hovered over the ashes, and they were so many, that with the fanning of their wings, all the ashes were stirred up, and rose into the air, and were scattered over the whole of Spain; and many of those persons upon whom the ashes fell, appeared as if they had been besmeared with blood. All this happened in a day, and many said afterwards, that all those persons upon whom those ashes fell, died in battle when Spain was conquered and lost; and this was the first sign of the destruction of Spain.”—Chronica del Rey D. Rodrigo, Part I. c. 28. 30.

“Y siendo verdad lo que escriven nuestros Chronistas, y el Alcayde Tarif, las letras que en este Palacio fueron halladas, no se ha de entender que fueron puestas por Hercules en su fundacion, ni por algun nigromantico, como algunos piensan, pues solo Dios sabe las cosas por venir, y aquellos aquien el es servido revelarlas: bien puede ser que fuessen puestas por alguna santa persona aquien nuestro Señor lo oviesse revelado y mandado; como revelo el castigo que avia de suceder del diluvio general en tiempo de Noe, que fue pregonero de la justicia de Dios; y el de las ciudades de Sodoma y Gomorra a Abraham.”—Fran. de Pisa, Descr. de Toledo, l. 2. c. 31.

The Spanish ballad upon the subject, fine as the subject is, is flat as a flounder:—

De los nobilissimos Godos

que en Castilla avian reynado

Rodrigo rey no el postrero

de los reyes que han passado:

en cuyo tiempo los Moros

todo Espana avian ganado,

sino fuera las Asturias

que defendio Don Pelayo

En Toledo esta Rodrigo

al comienço del reynado;

vinole gran voluntad

de ver lo que esta cerrado

en la torre que esta alli,

antigua de muchos años.

En esta torre los reyes

cada uno hecho un canado,

porque lo ordenara ansi

Hercules el afamado,

que gano primero a España

de Gerion gran tirano.

Creyo el rey que avia en la torre

gran thesoro alli guardado;

la torre fue luego abierta

y quitados los canados;

no ay en ella cosa alguna,

sola una caxa han hallado.

El rey la mandara abrir;

un paño dentro se ha hallado,

con unas letras latinas

que dizen en Castellano,

Quando aquestas cerraduras

que cierran estos canados,

fueren abiertas y visto

lo en el paño debuxado,

España sera perdida,

y toda ella asolada;

ganaran la gente estrana

como aqui est an figurados,

los rostros muy denegridos,

los braços arremangados,

muchas colores vestidas,

en las cabecas tocados,

alçadas traeran sus señas

en cavallos cavalgando,

largas lanças en sus manos,

con espadas en su lado.

Alarabes se diran,

y de aquesta tierra estraños;

perderase toda España,

que nada no aura fincado.

El rey con sus ricos hombres

todos se avian espantado,

quando vieron las figuras

y letras que hemos contado;

buelven a cerrar la torre,

quedo el rey muy angustiado.

Romances nuevamente sacados por Lorenço
de Sepulveda, ff. 160. 1564.

Juan Yague de Salas relates a singular part of this miracle, which I have not seen recorded any where but in his very rare and curious poem:—

Cantò como rompidos los candados

De la lobrega cueva, y despedidas

De sus senos obscuros vozes tristes

No bien articuladas, si a remiendos,

Repetidas adentro por el ayre,

Y una mas bronca se escucho que dize,

Desdichado Rey Ro (y acaba digo,

Quedando la R submersa entre piçarras)

La Coro perderas, y el Man, y el Ce,

No dixo el na, ni el do, ni el tro, no dixo;

Almenos no se oyo, si bien oyose

Por lascivo tirano, y por sobervio,

Que ya permite el cielo que el de Meca

Castigue por tu causa el Reyno Godo,

Por solo que lo riges con mal modo.

Los Amantes de Teruel, p. 29.

The Chronica General del Rey Don Alfonso gives a singular account of the first inhabitant of this fatal spot:—

“There was a king who had to name Rocas; he was of the east country from Edom, wherein was Paradise, and for the love of wisdom he forsook his kingdom, and went about the world seeking knowledge. And in a country between the east and the north he found seventy pillars; thirty were of brass, thirty of marble, and they lay upon the ground, and upon them was written all knowledge and the nature of things. These Rocas translated, and carried with him the book in which he had translated them, by which he did marvels. He came to Troy when the people under Laomedon were building the city, and seeing them he laughed. They asked him why, and he replied, that if they knew what was to happen, they would cease from their work. Then they took him and led him before Laomedon, and Laomedon asked him for why he had spoken these words, and Rocas answered, that he had spoken truth, for the people should be put to the sword, and the city be destroyed by fire. Wherefore the Trojans would have slain him, but Laomedon, judging that he spake from folly, put him in prison to see if he would repent. He, fearful of death, by his art sent a sleep upon the guards, and filed off his irons, and went his way. And he came to the seven hills by the Tyber, and there upon a stone he wrote the letters Roma, and Romulus found them, and gave them as a name to his city, because they bore a resemblance to his own.

“Then went King Rocas westward, and he entered Spain, and went round it and through it, till coming to the spot where Toledo stands, he discovered that it was the central place of the country, and that one day a city should there be built, and there he found a cave into which he entered. There lay in it a huge dragon, and Rocas in fear besought the dragon not to hurt him, for they were both creatures of God. And the dragon took such love towards him, that he always brought him part of his food from the chase, and they dwelt together in the cave. One day an honourable man of that land, by name Tartus, was hunting in that mountain, and he found a bear, and the bear fled into the cave, and Rocas in fear addressed him as he had done the dragon, and the bear quietly lay down, and Rocas fondled his head, and Tartus following, saw Rocas how his beard was long, and his body covered with hair, and he thought it was a wild man, and fitted an arrow to his bow, and drew the string. Then Rocas besought him in the name of God not to slay him, and obtained security for himself and the bear under his protection. And when Tartus heard how he was a king, he invited him to leave that den and return with him, and he would give him his only daughter in marriage, and leave him all that he had. By this the dragon returned. Tartus was alarmed, and would have fled, but Rocas interfered, and the dragon threw down half an ox, for he had devoured the rest, and asked the stranger to stop and eat. Tartus declined the invitation, for he must be gone. Then said Rocas to the dragon, My friend, I must now leave you, for we have sojourned together long enough. So he departed, and married, and had two sons, and for love of the dragon he built a tower over the cave, and dwelt there. After his death, one of his sons built another, and King Pirros added more building, and this was the beginning of Toledo.”

Redeemed Magdalen.—X. p. 97.

Lardner published a letter to Jonas Hanway, showing why houses for the reception of penitent harlots ought not to be called Magdalen Houses; Mary Magdalen not being the sinner recorded in the 7th chapter of Luke, but a woman of distinction and excellent character, who laboured under some bodily infirmity, which our Lord miraculously healed.

In the Shibboleth of Jean Despagne, is an article thus entitled: De Marie Magdelaine laquelle faussement on dit avoir este femme de mauvaise vie: Le tort que luy font les Theologiens pour la plus part en leurs sermons, en leurs livres; et specialement la Bible Angloise en l’Argument du 7ᵉ chap. de S. Luc.

“The injury,” says this Hugonot divine, “which the Romish church does to another Mary, the sister of Lazarus, has been sufficiently confuted by the orthodox. It has been ignorantly believed that this Mary, and another who was of Magdala, and the sinner who is spoken of in the 7th of Luke, are the same person, confounding the three in one. We have justified one of the three, to wit, her of Bethany, the sister of Lazarus; but her of Magdala we still defame, as if that Magdalen were the sinner of whom St. Luke speaks.

“Nothing is more common in the mouth of the vulgar than the wicked life of the Magdalen. The preachers who wish to confess souls that are afflicted with horror at their sins, represent to them this woman as one of the most immodest and dissolute that ever existed, to whom, however, God has shown mercy. And, upon this same prejudice, which is altogether imaginary, has been founded a reason why the Son of God having been raised from the dead, appeared to Mary Magdalen before any other person; for, say they, it is because she had greater need of consolation, having been a greater sinner than the others.—He who wrote the Practice of Piety places her with the greatest offenders, even with Manasses, one of the wickedest of men: and to authorise this error the more, it has been inserted in the Bible itself. For the argument to the 7th of Luke in the English version says, that the woman whose sins were in greater number than those of others,—the woman, who till then had lived a wicked and infamous life, was Mary Magdalen. But, 1st, The text gives no name to this sinner: Where then has it been found? Which of the Evangelists, or what other authentic writing, has taught us the proper name or surname of the woman? For she who poured an ointment upon Christ (Matth. xxvi. John, xii.) was not this sinner, nor Mary Magdalen, but a sister of Lazarus. All these circumstances show that they are two different stories, two divers actions, performed at divers times, in divers places, and by divers persons. 2dly, Where do we find that Mary Magdalen ever anointed the feet of our Saviour? 3dly, Where do we find that Mary Magdalen had been a woman of evil life? The gospel tells us that she had been tormented with seven devils or evil spirits, an affliction which might happen to the holiest person in the world: But we do not see even the shadow of a word there which marks her with infamy. Why then do we still adhere to an invention not only fabulous, but injurious to the memory of a woman illustrious in piety? We ought as well to beware of bearing false witness against the dead as against the living.

“It is remarkable that neither the sinner (Luke, vii.) nor the adultress who is spoken of in the 8th of John, are named in the sacred history, any more than the thief who was converted on the cross. There are particular reasons, beyond a doubt, and we may in part conjecture them, why the Holy Spirit has abstained from relating the names of these great sinners, although converted. It is not then for us to impose them; still less to appropriate them to persons whom the Scripture does not accuse of any enormous sins.”

That Egyptian penitent.—X. p. 97.

St. Mary the Egyptian. This is one of those religious romances which may probably have been written to edify the people without any intention of deceiving them. Some parts of the legend are beautifully conceived. An English Romanist has versified it in eight books, under the title of the Triumph of the Cross, or Penitent of Egypt. Birmingham, 1776. He had the advantage of believing his story,—which ought to have acted like inspiration.

The dreadful tale!—X. p. 97.

Amava el Rey la desigual Florinda

En ser gentil, y desdeñosa dama,

Que quiere amor, que quando un Rey se rinda

Desdenes puedan resistir su llama.

No fue de Grecia mas hermosa y linda

La que le dio por su desdicha fama,

Ni desde el Sagitario a Cynosura

Se vio en tanto rigor tanta hermosura.

Creciò el amor como el desden crecia;

Enojose el poder; la resistencia

Se fue aumentando, pero no podia

Sufrir un Rey sujeta competencia:

Estendiose à furor la cortesia,

Los terminos passo de la paciencia,

Haziendo los mayores desengaños

Las horas meses, y los meses años.

Cansado ya Rodrigo de que fuesse

Teorica el amor, y intentos vanos,

Sin que demostracion alguna huviesse,

Puso su gusto en pratica de manos:

Pues quien de tanto amor no le tuviesse

Con los medios mas faciles y humanos,

Como tendria entonces sufrimiento

De injusta fuerça en el riqor violento?

Ansias, congojas, lagrimas y vozes,

Amenazas, amores, fuerça, injuria,

Pruevan, pelean, llegan, dan ferozes

Al que ama, rabia, al que aborrece, furia:

Discurren los pronosticos velozes,

Que ofrece el pensamiento aquien injuria;

Rodrigo teme, y ama, y fuerça, y ella

Quanto mas se resiste, està mas bella.

Ya viste de jazmines el desmayo

Las eludas mexillas siempre hermosas,

Ya la verguença del clavel de Mayo,

Alexandrinas, y purpureas rosas:

Rodrigo ya como encendido rayo,

Que no respeta las sagradas cosas,

Ni se ahoga en sus lagrimas, ni mueve

Porque se abrasse, o se convierta en nieve.

Rindiose al fin la femenil flaqueza

Al varonil valor y atrevimiento;

Quedò sin lustre la mayor belleza

Que es de una casta Virgen ornamento:

Siguio à la injusta furia la tibieza.

Apareciose el arrepentimiento,

Que viene como sombra del pecado,

Principios del castigo del culpado.

Fue con Rodrigo este mortal disgusto,

Y quedò con Florinda la vengança,

Que le propuso el echo mas injusto

Que de muger nuestra memoria alcança:

Dizese que no ver en el Rey gusto,

Sino de tanto amor tanta mudança

Fue la ocasion, que la muger gozada

Mas siente aborrecida que forçada.

Jerusalen Conquistada, l. 6. ff. 132.

Lope de Vega quotes scripture in proof of the opinion expressed in this last couplet. 2 Kings, ch. xiii.

Old Barret tells the story as Ancient Pistol would have done:—

“In Ulit’s time there regalized in Spain

One Roderick, king from the Gothians race’t;

Into whose secret heart with silent strain

Instretcht the ’sturber of hart pudike chast,

Him enamouravizing of a piece,

A piece by Nature quaintly symmetrized,

Enfayred with beauty as Helen fair of Greece:

Count Julian’s daughter of bed-wedlockized,

Ycleaped Caba; who in court surshined

The rest, as Hesperus the dimmed stars.

This piece the king in his Love’s-closet shrined,

Survicting her by wile, gold, gems, or forced jars.”

It is thus related in the fabulous Chronicle:—“Despues que el Rey ovo descubierto su coraçon a la Cava, no era dia que la no requiriesse una vez o dos, y ella se defendia con buena razon: empero al cabo como el Rey no pensava cosa como en esto, un dia en la siesta embio con un donzel suyo por la Cava; y ella vino a su mandado; y como en essa hora no avia en toda su camara otro ninguno sino ellos todos tres, el cumplio con ella todo lo que puso. Empero tanto sabed que si ella quisiera dar bozes que bien fuera oyda de la reyna, mas callosse con lo que el Rey quiso fazer.”—P. 1. c. 172.

In this fabulous Chronicle Roderick’s fall is represented as the work of his stars:—“Y aunque a las vezes pensava el gran yerro en que tocava, y en la maldad que su coraçon avia cometido, tanto era el ardor que tenia que lo olvidava todo, y esto acarreava la malandança que le avia de venir, y la destruycion de Espana que avia de aver comienço para se hazer; y quiero vos dezir que su constelacion no podia escusar que esto no passasse assi; y ya Dios lo avia dexado en su discrecion; y el por cosa que fuesse on se podia arredrar que no topasse en ello.”—P. 1. c. 164.

“Certes,” says the fabulous Chronicler, “he was a Lord of greater bounty than ever had been seen before his time.—He used to say, that if all the world were his, he would rather lose it than one friend; for the world was a thing, which if it were lost, might be recovered; but a friend once lost could never be recovered for all the treasure in the world. And because he was thus bountiful, all those of Spain were likewise; and they had the fame of being the most liberal men in the world, especially those of the lineage of the Goths. Never a thing was asked at his hands, whether great or small, to which he could say no; and never king nor other great lord asked aid of him that he denied, but gave them of his treasures and of his people as much as they needed. And doubt not, but that if fortune had not ordered that in his time the lineage of the Goths should be cut off, and Spain destroyed, there was no king or emperor whom he would not have brought into subjection; and if the whole world ought to be placed in the power of one man, (speaking of worldly things,) there never was, nor will be, a man deserving to possess it, save he alone. But as envy is the beginning of all evil, and saw how great was the goodness of this king, she never rested till she had brought about that things should be utterly reversed, even till she had destroyed him. Oh what great damage to the world will it be when God shall consent that so much bounty, and courage, and frankness, and loyalty should be destroyed for ever! All nations ought to clad themselves in wretched weeds one day in the week to mourn for the flower of the world, and especially ought the people of Spain to make such mourning.”—Chronica del Rey Don Rodrigo, p. 1. c. 55.

And again, when the last battle is approaching, he praises the king:—“Y el Rey era el mas esforçado hombre de coraçon que nunca se oyo dezir: y el mas franco de todo lo que podia aver; y preciava mas cobrar amigos que no quanto tesoro pudiesse estar en su reyno, hasta el dia que creyo el consejo del traydor del conde Don Julian; y a maravilla era buen cavallero que al tiempo que el no era rey, no se hallava cavallero que a la su bondad se ygualasse, y tanto sabed que sino por estas malandanças que le vinieron, nunca cavallero al mundo de tales condiciones fue; que nunca a el vino chico ni grande que del se partiesse despagado a culpa suya.”—P. 1. c. 213.

The manner in which Florinda calls upon her father to revenge her is curiously expressed by Lope de Vega:—

Al escrivirle tiemblan pluma y mano,

Llega el agravio, la piedad retira,

Pues quanto escrive la vengança, tanto

Quiere borrar de la verguença el llanto.

No son menos las letras que soldados,

Los ringlones yleras y esquadrones,

Que al son de los suspiros van formados

Haciendo las distancias las diciones:

Los mayores caracteres, armados

Navios, tiendas, maquinas, pendones;

Los puntos, los incisos, los acentos

Capitanes, Alferez y Sargentos.

Breve processo escrive, aunque el sucesso

Significar quexosa determina,

Pero en tan breve causa, en tal processo

La perdicion de España se fulmina.

Jerusalen Conquistada, l. 6. ff. 138.

I remember but one of the old poets who has spoken with compassion of Florinda: It is the Portugueze Bras Garcia Mascarenhas, a writer who, with many odd things in his poem, has some fine ones.

Refresca em Covilham a gente aflita,

Nam se sabe que nome entam a honrava;

Muyto deposis foy Cava Julia dita,

Por nascer nella a desditada Cava.

Nam a deslustra, antes a acredita

Filha que a honra mais que hum Rey presava;

Hespanha culpe a força sem desculpa,

Nam culpe a bella, que nam teve culpa.

Viriato Tragico, Canto ii. St. 118.

Wamba’s wars.—XII. p. 110.

In the valuable history of this king by a contemporary writer, the following character of the French is given:—

“Hujus igitur gloriosis temporibus, Galliarum terra altrix perfidiæ infami denotatur elogio, quæ utique inæstimabili infidelitatis febre vexata, genita a se infidelium depasceret membra. Quid enim non in illa crudele vel lubricum? ubi conjuratorum conciliabulum, perfidiæ signum, obscœnitas operum, fraus negotiorum, vænale judicium, et quod pejus his omnibus est, contra ipsum Salvatorem nostrum et Dominum, Judæorum blasphemantium prostibulum habebatur. Hæc enim terra suo, ut ita dixerim, partu, perditionis suæ sibimet præparavit excidium, et ex ventris sui generatione viperea eversionis suæ nutrivit decipulam. Etenim dum multo jam tempore his febrium diversitatibus ageretur, subito in ea unius nefandi capitis prolapsione turbo infidelitatis adsurgit, et conscensio perfidiæ per unum ad plurimos transit.”—S. Julian, Hist. Wambæ, § 5.—Espana Sagrada, 6. 544.

The bath, the bed,

The vigil.—XII. p. 111.

The Partidas have some curious matter upon this subject.

“Cleanliness makes things appear well to those who behold them, even as propriety makes them seemly, each in its way. And therefore the ancients held it good that knights should be made cleanly. For even as they ought to have cleanliness within them in their manners and customs, so ought they to have it without in their garments, and in the arms which they wear. For albeit their business is hard and cruel, being to strike and to slay; yet notwithstanding they may not so far forego their natural inclinations, as not to be pleased with fair and goodly things, especially when they wear them. For on one part they give joy and delight, and on the other make them fearlessly perform feats of arms, because they are aware that by them they are known, and that because of them men take more heed to what they do. Therefore, for this reason, cleanliness and propriety do not diminish the hardihood and cruelty which they ought to have. Moreover, as is aforesaid, that which appears without is the signification of what they have in their inclinations within. And therefore the ancients ordained that the squire, who is of noble lineage, should keep vigil the day before he receives knighthood. And after mid-day the squires shall bathe him, and wash his head with their hands, and lay him in the goodliest bed that may be. And there the knights shall draw on his hose, and clothe him with the best garments that can be had. And when the cleansing of the body has been performed, they shall do as much to the soul, taking him to the church, where he is to labour in watching and beseeching mercy of God, that he will forgive him his sins, and guide him so that he may demean himself well in that order which he is about to receive; to the end that he may defend his law, and do all other things according as it behoveth him, and that he would be his defender and keeper in all dangers and in all difficulties. And he ought to bear in mind how God is powerful above all things, and can show his power in them when he listeth, and especially in affairs of arms. For in his hand are life and death, to give and to take away, and to make the weak strong, and the strong weak. And when he is making this prayer, he must be with his knees bent, and all the rest of the time on foot, as long as he can bear it. For the vigil of knights was not ordained to be a sport, nor for any thing else, except that they, and those who go there, should pray to God to protect them, and direct them in the right way, and support them, as men who are entering upon the way of death.”—Part. ii. Tit. 21. Ley 13.

“When the vigil is over, as soon as it is day, he ought first to hear mass, and pray God to direct all his feats to his service. And afterwards he who is to knight him shall come and ask him, if he would receive the order of knighthood; and if he answereth yea, then shall it be asked him, if he will maintain it as it ought to be maintained; and when he shall have promised to do this, that knight shall fasten on his spurs, or order some other knight to fasten them on, according to what manner of man he may be, and the rank which he holdeth. And this they do to signify, that as a knight putteth spurs on the right and on the left, to make his horse gallop straight forward, even so he ought to let his actions be straight forward, swerving on neither side. And then shall his sword be girt on over his brial.—Formerly it was ordained that when noble men were made knights, they should be armed at all points, as if they were about to do battle. But it was not held good that their heads should be covered, for they who cover their heads do so for two reasons: the one to hide something there which hath an ill look, and for that reason they may well cover them with any fair and becoming covering. The other reason is, when a man hath done some unseemly thing of which he is ashamed. And this in no wise becometh noble knights. For when they are about to receive so noble and so honourable a thing as knighthood, it is not fitting that they should enter into it with any evil shame, neither with fear. And when they shall have girded on his sword, they shall draw it from out the scabbard, and place it in his right hand, and make him swear these three things: first, That he shall not fear to die for his faith, if need be; secondly, For his natural Lord; thirdly, For his country; and when he hath sworn this, then shall the blow on the neck be given him, in order that these things aforesaid may come into his mind, saying, God guard him to his service, and let him perform all that he hath promised; and after this, he who hath conferred the order upon him, shall kiss him, in token of the faith and peace and brotherhood which ought to be observed among knights. And the same ought all the knights to do who are in that place, not only at that time, but whenever they shall meet with him during that whole year.”—Part. ii. Tit. 21. Ley 14.

“The gilt spurs which the knights put on have many significations; for the gold, which is so greatly esteemed, he puts upon his feet, denoting thereby, that the knight shall not for gold commit any malignity or treason, or like deed, that would detract from the honour of knighthood. The spurs are sharp, that they may quicken the speed of the horse; and this signifies that the knight ought to spur and prick on the people, and make them virtuous; for one knight with his virtues is sufficient to make many people virtuous, and on the other hand, he ought to prick a perverse people to make them fearful.”—Tirante il Blanco, p. 1. C. 19. ff. 44.

The Hermit reads to Tirante a chapter from the Arbor de battaglie explaining the origin of knighthood. The world, it is there said, was corrupted, when God, to the intent that he might be loved, honoured, served, and feared once more, chose out from every thousand men one who was more amiable, more affable, more wise, more loyal, more strong, more noble-minded, more virtuous, and of better customs than all the others: And then he sought among all beasts for that which was the goodliest, and the swiftest, and which could bear the greatest fatigue, and might be convenient for the service of man; and he chose the horse, and gave him to this man who was chosen from the thousand; and for this reason he was called cavallero, because the best animal was thus joined to the most noble man. And when Romulus founded Rome, he chose out a thousand young men to be knights, and furno nominati militi porche mille furono fatti in un tempo cavalleri.—P. 1. C. 14. ff. 40.

The custom which some kings had of knighting themselves is censured by the Partidas.—P. ii. T. 21. L. 11. It is there said, that there must be one to give, and another to receive the order. And a knight can no more knight, than a priest can ordain himself.

“When the Infante Hernando of Castile was chosen king of Aragon, he knighted himself on his coronation day:—De que tots los Barons nobles ho tengeren una gran maravella com el matex se feu cavaller, qui segons los dessus dits deyen nenguno pot esser cavaller, sino dones nos fa cavaller de ma de cavaller qui hage lorde de cavalleria.”—Tomich. C. 47. ff. 68.

“The qualifications for a knight, cavallero, or horse-soldier, in the barbarous stage of society, were three: 1st, That he should be able to endure fatigue, hardship, and privations. 2dly, That he should have been used to strike, that his blows might be the more deadly. 3dly, That he should be bloody-minded, and rob, hack, and destroy the enemy without compunction. The persons, therefore, who were preferred, were mountaineers, accustomed to hunting,—carpenters, blacksmiths, stone-cutters, and butchers. But it being found that such persons would sometimes run away, it was then discovered that they who were chosen for cavaliers ought to have a natural sense of shame. And for this reason it was appointed that they should be men of family.”—Partida, ii. T. 21. L. 2. Vegetius, l. 1. c. 7.

The privileges of knighthood were at one time so great, that if the goods of a knight were liable to seizure, they could not be seized where he or his wife were present, nor even where his cloak or shield was to be found.—Part. ii. Tit. 21. Ley 23.

The coated scales of steel

Which o’er the tunic to his knees depend.—XII. p. 111.

Canciani (T. 3. p. 34.) gives a representation of Roland from the porch of the Cathedral at Verona, which is supposed to have been built about the beginning of the ninth century. The figure is identified by the inscription on the sword, ... Du-rin-dar-da. The lorica, which Canciani explains, Vestica bellica maculis ferreis contexta, is illustrated by this figure. It is a coat or frock of scale-mail reaching to the knees, and with half sleeves. The only hand which appears is unarmed, as far as the elbow. The right leg also is unarmed, the other leg and foot are in the same sort of armour as the coat. The end of a loose garment appears under the mail. The shield reaches from the chin to the middle of the leg, it is broad enough at the top to cover the breast and shoulder, and slopes gradually off to the form of a long oval.

At every saddle-bow

A gory head was hung.—XIV. p. 127.

This picture frequently occurs in the Spanish Chronicles. Sigurd the elder, Earl of Orkney, owed his death to a like custom. “Suddenly clapping spurs to his horse, as he was returning home in triumph, bearing, like each of his followers, one of these bloody spoils, a large front tooth in the mouth of the head which hung dangling by his side, cut the calf of his leg,—the wound mortified, and he died.—The Earl must have been bare-legged.”—Torfæus, quoted in Edmonston’s View of the Zetland Islands, vol. i. p. 33.

In reverence to the priestly character.—XV. p. 135.

“At the synod of Mascou, laymen were enjoined to do honour to the honourable clergy by humbly bowing the head, and uncovering it, if they were both on horseback, and by alighting also if the clergyman were a-foot.”—Pierre de Marca. Hist. de Bearn, l. i. ch. 18. § 2.

Whom not the spoils of Atabalipa

Could satisfy insatiate.—XVI. p. 142.

Hernando de Soto,—the history of whose expedition to Florida by the Inca Garcilaso, is one of the most delightful books in the Spanish language.

Nor wicker storehouse for the autumnal grain.—XVI. p. 144.

“Morales (8. 23. 3.), speaking of the Asturians, mentions with wonder their chairs, furniture, and granaries of basket-work, ... las sillas y otras cosas de servicio recias y firmas que hacen entretexidas de mimbres y varas de avellano. Y aun a me no me espantaba en aquella tierra tanto esto como ver los graneros, que ellos llaman los horreos, fabricados desta misma obra de varas entretexidas, y tan tapidas y de tanta firmeza, que sufren gran carga como buenas paredes.”

Covadonga.—XVI. p. 146.

The valley of Covadonga is thus described by the Conde de Saldueña;—and the description is a fair specimen of his poem;—

Yace de Asturias, donde el Sol infante

Sus montes con primeras luces baña,

De Covadonga el sitio, que triunfante

Cuna fue en que nacio la insigne España

Vierte en el Sela liquidos cristales

Con Buena y Deba, que de la montaña

Deben la vida a la fragosa copa,

A quien la antiguedad llamò de Europa.

Aqui la juventud de un bello llano

Compite à flores, luces de la esphera;

Y burlando el Invierno y el Verano

Eterna vive en el la Primavera:

Sobre sus glebas se derrama ufano

El prodigioso cuerno de la Fiera

De Amaltea, y aromas, y colores

Confunden los matices con olores.

Robustos troncos, con pobladas ramas

Vuelven el sitio rustica Alameda,

Y del Sol no permiten a las llamas

Lo espeso penetrar de la Arboleda:

Pierden sus rayos las ardientes famas,

Pues la frondosidad opuesta veda

La luz al dia, y denso verde muro

Crepusculo le viste al ayre puro.

Sigeiendo la ribera de Peonia

Al Oriente Estival, y algo inclinado

A la parte que mira al medio dia,

Otro valle se vè mas dilatado:

A la derecha de esta selva umbria

Reynazo corre, que precipitado

Va à dar à Bueña en liquidos abrazos

Su pobre vena en cristalinos lazos.

Sin passar de Reynazo el successivo

Curso, dexando presto su torrente,

Con el cristal se encuentra fugitivo

De Deba, a quien la Cueba dio la fuente:

La admiracion aqui raro motivo

Vè, formando la senda su corriente,

Pues lo estrecho del sitio peñascoso

Hace camino del licor undoso.

Hecho serpiente Deva del camino

En circulo se enrosca tortuoso,

Vomitando veneno cristalino

En el liquido aljofar proceloso:

En las orillas con vivaz destino,

En tosigo se vuelve, que espumoso

Inficiona lethal al pie ligero,

Quando le pisa incanto el passagero.

Ya de este valle cierran las campañas,

Creciendo de sus riscos la estatura,

Desmesuradas tanto las montanas

Que ofuscan ya del Sol la lumbre pura

Son rusticos los lados, las entrañas

Del valle visten siempre la hermosura

Fronsidad el ayre, y de colores

El suelo texe alfombra de primores.

Aunque los montes con espesas breñas

El lado al sitio forman horroroso,

Y contra su verdor desnudas peñas

Compiten de lo llano lo frondoso;

Pintados pajarillos dulces senas

Al son del agua en trino sonoroso

De ignorados idiomas en su canto

Dan con arpados picos dulce encanto.

Lo ultimo de este valle la alta sierra

De Covadonga ocupa, donde fuerte

Se expone el Heroe al juego de la guerra,

Sin temor negro ocaso de la suerte:

Los que animosos este sitio encierra

El ceño despreciando de la muerte,

Su pecho encienden en la altiva llama

Que no cabra en las trompas de la Fama.

De Diba en ella la preciosa fuente

Al llano brota arroyos de cristales,

Donde en pequena balsa su corriente

Se detiene en suspensos manantiales

Despues se precipita su torrente

Quanto sus ondas enfreno neutrales,

Con sonoroso ruido de la peña

El curso de sus aguas se despeña.

Cierra todo este valle esta robusta

Peña, donde la Cueva està divina,

Que amenaza tajada a ser injusta

Del breve llano formidable ruina:

Parece quiere ser con saña adusta

Seco padron, y fiera se destina

A erigirse epitafio peñascoso,

Sepultando su horror el sitio hermoso.

De piedra viva tan tremenda altura

Que la vista al mirarla se estremece;

Vasta grena se viste, y la hermosura

De la fertilidad seca aborrece:

Es tan desmesurada su estatura

Que estrecha el ayre, y barbara parece

Que quiere que la sirvan de Cimera

Las fulminantes luces de la Esphera.

Como a dos picas en la peña dura

Construye en circo una abertura rara,

De una pica de alto, y dos de anchura,

Rica de sombras su mansion avara:

Ventana, ò boca de la cueva obscura

Donde el Sol no dispensa su luz clara,

Tan corta, que su centro tenebroso

Aun no admite crepusculo dudoso.

En este sitio puez, donde compite

La rustiquez con las pintadas flores,

Puez la pelada sierra no permite

A la vista, sino es yertos horrores:

Por el contrario el llano que en si admite

De los bellos matices los primores,

Efecto siendo de naturaleza

La union en lo fealdad, y la belleza.

A tiorba de cristal las dulces aves

Corresponden en trinos amorosos,

Vertiendo en blando son tonos suaves

Ecos los ayres beben harmoniosos:

Enmudecen su canto quando graves

Bemoles gorgeando mas preciosos,

Es maestro à la barbara Capilla

El Ruyseñor, plumada maravilla.

Elige este distrito la Divina

Providencia à lo grave de la hazaña,

Pues aqui su justicia determina

La monarquia fabricar de España:

A las cortas reliquias, que à la ruina

Reservò su piedad, enciende en saña

Religiosa, que à Imperio sin regunda

Abra futura llave Nuevo Mundo.

El Pelayo, Cant. ix.

Christoval de Mesa also describes the scene.

Acercandose mas, oye el sonido

Del agua, con un manso y sordo ruydo,

El qual era de quatro claras fuentes

Que estavan de la ermita en las esquinas,

Cuyas puras de plata aguas corrientes

Mostro la blanca Luna cristalinas;

Y corriendo por partes diferentes

Eran de grande maravilla dignas,

Y en qualquiera de todas por su parte

Naturaleza se esmero con arte.

La una mana de una viva pena,

Y qual si tambien fuera el agua viva,

Parte la bana, y parte se despeña

Con rapida corriente fugitiva:

Despues distinto un largo arroyo enseña

Que por diversas partes se derriba,

Con diferente curso en vario modo,

Hasta que a donde nace buelve todo.

Otra, que alta descubre ancho Orizonte,

Como agraviada del lugar segundo

Sustenta un monstruo que parece un monte,

Qual Atlante que tiene en peso el mundo:

Y como suele el caudaloso Oronte

Dar el ancho tributo al mar profundo,

Assi se arroja con furiosas ondas,

Por las partes mas baxas y mas hondas.

Sale bramando la tercera fuente,

Como un mar, y despues por el arena

Va con tan mansa y placida corriente

Tan grata y sossegada, y tan serena,

Que a las fieras, ganados, peces, gente,

Puede aplacar la sed, menguar la pena,

Y da despues la buelta, y forma el cuerno

De la Luna, imitando el curso eterno.

Nace la quarta de una gran caverna,

Y siguiendo su prospera derrota

Parece que por arte se govierna,

Segun va destilando gota a gota:

No vido antigua edad, edad moderna

En region muy propinqua, o muy remota,

Fuente tan peregrina, obra tan nueva,

En gruta artificiosa, o tosca cueva.

Restauracion de Espana, Lib. 2. ff. 27.

Morales has given a minute description both of the scenery and antiquities of this memorable place. The Conde de Saldueña evidently had it before him. I also am greatly indebted to this faithful and excellent author.

The timid hare soon learns that she may trust

The solitary penitent, and birds

Will light upon the hermit’s harmless hand.—XVII. p. 154.

Con mil mortificaciones

Sus passiones crucifican,

Porque ellas de todo mueran

Porque el alma solo viva.

Hazen por huyr al ocio

Cestos, y espuertas texidas

De las hojas de las palmas

Que alli crecen sin medida.

Los arboles, y las plantas

Porque a su gusto los sirvan

Para esto vergas offrecen,

De las mas tiernas que crian.

Tambien de corcho hazen vasos

Cuentas, Cruzes, y baxillas,

Cuyo modo artificioso.

El oro, y la plata embidian,

Este los cilicios texe,

Aquel haze disciplinas,

El otro las calaveras

En tosco palo esculpidas.

Uno a sombra del aliso,

Con la escritura divina

Misticos sentidos saca

De sus literales minas.

Otro junto de la fuente

Que murmura en dulce risa

Mira en los libros las obras

De los santos Eremitas.

Qual cerca del arroyuelo

Que saltando corre aprissa,

Discurre como a la muerte

Corre sin parar la vida.

Qual con un Christe abraçado

Besandole las heridas,

Herido de sus dolores

A sus pies llora, y suspira.

Qual en las flores que al campo

Entre esmeraldas matizan,

Las grandezas soberanas

Del immenso autor medita.

Qual subida en las piçarras

Que plata, y perlas distilan,

Con lagrimas acrecienta

Su corriente cristalina.

Qual a las fieras convoca,

Las aves llama, y combida

A que al criador de todo

Alaben agradecidas.

Qual immoble todo el cuerpo,

Con las acciones perdidas,

Tiene arrebatada el alma

Alla donde amando anima.

Y de aquel extasi quando

Parece que resuscita,

Dize con razon que muere

Porque no perdio lo vida.

La fuerça de amor a vezes

Sueño, y reposo los quita,

Y saliendo de su estancia

Buscan del Cielo la vista.

Quando serena la noche

Clara se descubre Cynthia,

Bordando de azul, y plata

El postrer mobil que pisa;

Quando al oro de su hermano

No puede tener embidia,

Que llena del que le presta

Haze de la noche dia;

Del baculo acompañado

El amante Anachorita

Solo por las soledades

Solitarios pasos guia.

Y parando entre el silencio

Las claras estrellas mira

Que le deleitan por obra

De la potencia divina.

En altas bozes alaba

Sin tener quien se lo impida

Al amador soberano

Cuya gracia solicita.

Contempla sus perfeciones,

Sus grandezas soleniza,

Sus misericordias canta,

Sus excelencias publica.

La noche atenta entre tanto

Callando porque el prosiga,

Cruxen los vezinos ramos,

Y blando el viento respira.

Gimen las aves nocturnas

Por hazerle compania,

Suenan las fuentes, y arroyos,

Retumban las penas frias.

Todo ayuda al solitario,

Mientras con el alma fixa

En sus queridos amores

Contemplandolos se alivia.

Soledades de Busaco.

Fuller, the Worthy, has a beautiful passage in his Church History concerning “Primitive Monks with their Piety and Painfulness.”—“When the furnace of persecution in the infancy of christianity was grown so hot, that most cities, towns, and populous places were visited with that epidemical disease, many pious men fled into deserts, there to live with more safety, and serve God with less disturbance. No wild humour to make themselves miserable, and to choose and court their own calamity, put them on this project, much less any superstitious opinion of transcendant sanctity in a solitary life, made them willingly to leave their former habitations. For whereas all men by their birth are indebted to their country, there to stay and discharge all civil relations, it had been dishonesty in them like bankrupts to run away into the wilderness to defraud their country, their creditor, except some violent occasion (such as persecution was) forced them thereunto; and this was the first original of monks in the world, so called from μόνος, because living alone by themselves.

“Here they in the deserts hoped to find rocks and stocks, yea beasts themselves, more kind than men had been to them. What would hide and heat, cover and keep warm, served them for clothes, not placing (as their successors in after ages) any holiness in their habit, folded up in the affected fashion thereof. As for their food, the grass was their cloth, the ground their table, herbs and roots their diet, wild fruits and berries their dainties, hunger their sauce, their nails their knives, their hands their cups, the next well their wine-cellar; but what their bill of fare wanted in cheer it had in grace, their life being constantly spent in prayer, reading, musing, and such like pious employments. They turned solitariness itself into society; and cleaving themselves asunder by the divine art of meditation, did make of one, two or more, opposing, answering, moderating in their own bosoms, and busy in themselves with variety of heavenly recreations. It would do one good even but to think of their goodness, and at the rebound and second hand to meditate upon their meditations. For if ever poverty was to be envied it was here. And I appeal to the moderate men of these times, whether in the height of these woeful wars, they have not sometimes wisht (not out of passionate distemper, but serious recollection of themselves) some such private place to retire unto, where, out of the noise of this clamorous world, they might have reposed themselves, and served God with more quiet.”

None but that heavenly Father, who alone

Beholds the struggles of the heart, alone

Sees and rewards the secret sacrifice.—XVIII. p. 163.

Meu amor faça em Deos seu fundamento

Em Deos, que so conhece e so estima

A nobreza e o valor de hum pensamento.

Fernam Alvares do Oriente.

Sindered.—XVIII. p. 163.

“Per idem tempus divinæ memoriæ Sinderedus urbis Regiæ Metropolitanus Episcopus sanctimoniæ studio claret; atque longævos et merito honorabiles viros quos in suprafata sibi commissa Ecclesia repetit, non secundum scientiam zelo sanctitatis stimulat, atque instinctu jam dicti Witizæ Principis eos sub ejus tempore convexare non cessat; qui et post modicum incursus Arabum expavescens, non ut pastor, sed ut mercenarius, Christi oves contra decreta majorum deserens, Romanæ patriæ sese adventat.”—Isid. Pacensis, Espana Sagrada, T. 8. p. 298.

“E assi como el Arçobispo fue cierto de la mala andança partio de Cordova; y nunca cesso de andar dia ni noche fasta que llego a Toledo; y no embargante que el era hombre de buena vida, no se quiso mostrar por tal como deviera ser, y sufrir antes martyrio por amor de Jesu Christo y esforçar los suyos, porque se defendiessen, y que las gentes no desamparassen la tierra; ca su intencion fue de ser confessor antes que martyr.”—Cor. del K. D. Rodrigo, p. 2. C. 48.

While the Church

Keeps in her annals the deserter’s name,

But from the service which with daily zeal

Devout her ancient prelacy recalls,

Blots it, unworthy to partake her prayers.—XVIII. p. 163.

“Je ne serois pas en grande peine,” says Pierre de Marca, “de rechercher les noms des Evesques des Bearn, si la saincte et louable pratique des anciens Peres d’inserer dans les Diptyches, et cayers sacrés de chascune Eglise, les noms des Evesques orthodoxes, et qui estoient decedés dans la communion de l’Eglise Catholique, eust este continuée jusqu’aux derniers siècles. Et je pourrois me servir en cette rencontre du moyen que l’Empereur Justinian et le cinquiesme Concile General employerent, pour sçavoir si Theodore Evesque de Mopsuestie estoit reconnu apres sa mort pour Evesque de l’Eglise qu’il avoit possedée durant sa vie. Car ils ordonnerent a l’Evesque et au Clergé de cette ville, de revoir les Diptyches de leur Eglise, et de rapporter fidellement ce qu’ils y trouveroient. Ce qu’ayant exécuté diligemment, ils firent rapport qu’apres avoir fueilleté quatre divers cayers en parchemin, qui estoient leurs Diptyches, ils y avoient trouvé le nom de tous les Evesques de ce siege; horsmis qu’en la place de Theodore, avoit esté substitué le nom de Cyrille, qui estoit le Patriarche d’Alexandrie; lequel présidant au Concile d’Ephese avoit condamné l’heresie de Nestorius et de Theodore de Mopsuestie. D’ou il apert que les noms de tous les Evesques depuis l’origine et l’establissement de chascune des Eglises estoient enregistrés dans les cayers que l’on appelloit Diptyches, et que l’on les recitoit nom par nom en leur lieu, pendant la celebration de la Liturgie, tant pour tesmoigner la continuation de la communion avec les Evesques decedés, que l’on avoit euë avec euxmesmes vivans, qu’afin de procurer par les prieres publiques, et par l’efficace du Sacrifice non sanglant, en la celebration du quel ils estoient recommendés a Dieu, suivant l’ordonnance des Apostres, un grand profit, soulagement, et refraichissement pour leurs ames, comme enseignent Cyrille de Hierusalem, Chrysostome, et Epiphane.”—Histoire de Bearn, l. 4. c. 9. § 1.

“Some time before they made oblation for the dead, it was usual in some ages to recite the names of such eminent bishops, or saints, or martyrs, as were particularly to be mentioned in this part of the service. To this purpose they had certain books, which they called their Holy Books, and commonly their Diptychs, from their being folded together, wherein the names of such persons were written, that the deacon might rehearse them as occasion required in the time of divine service. Cardinal Bona and Schelstrate make three sorts of these Diptychs; one wherein the names of bishops only were written, and more particularly such bishops as had been governors of that particular church: a second, wherein the names of the living were written, who were eminent and conspicuous either for any office and dignity, or some benefaction and good work, whereby they had deserved well of the church; in this rank were the patriarchs and bishops of great sees, and the bishop and clergy of that particular church: together with the emperors and magistrates, and others most conspicuous among the people; the third was the book containing the names of such as were deceased in catholic communion.—These therefore were of use, partly to preserve the memory of such eminent men as were dead in the communion of the church, and partly to make honourable mention of such general councils as had established the chief articles of the faith: and to erase the names either of men or councils out of these Diptychs, was the same thing as to declare that they were heterodox, and such as they thought unworthy to hold communion with, as criminals, or some way deviating from the faith. Upon this account St. Cyprian ordered the name of Geminius Victor to be left out among those that were commemorated at the holy table, because he had broken the rules of the church. And Evagrius observes of Theodorus bishop of Mopsuestia, that his name was struck out of the Holy Books, that is, the Diptychs, upon the account of his heretical opinions, after death. And St. Austin, speaking of Cæcilian, Bishop of Carthage, whom the Donatists falsely accused of being ordained by Traditores, or men who had delivered up the Bible to be burned in the times of persecution, tells them that if they could make good any real charge against him, they would no longer name him among the rest of the bishops, whom they believed to be faithful and innocent, at the altar.”—Bingham, b. 15. ch. 3. sect. 17.

Orary.—XVIII. p. 164.

“The Council of Laodicea has two canons concerning the little habit called the Orarium, which was a scarf or tippet to be worn upon the shoulders; and might be used by bishops, presbyters, and deacons, but not by subdeacons, singers, or readers, who are expressly debarred the use of it in that council.—The first council of Braga speaks of the tunica and the orarium as both belonging to deacons. And the third council of Braga orders priests to wear the orarium on both shoulders when they ministered at the altar. By which we learn that the tunica or surplice was common to all the clergy, the orarium on the left shoulder proper to deacons, and on both shoulders the distinguishing badge of priests.—The fourth council of Toledo is most particular in these distinctions. For in one canon it says, that if a bishop, presbyter, or deacon, be unjustly degraded, and be found innocent by a synod, yet they shall not be what they were before, unless they receive the degrees they had lost from the hands of the bishops before the altar. If he be a bishop, he must receive his orarium, his ring, and his staff: if a presbyter, his orarium and planeta: if a deacon, his orarium and alba. And in another canon, that the deacon shall wear but one orarium, and that upon his left shoulder, wherewith he is to give the signal of prayers to the people. Where we may observe also the reason of the name orarium in the ecclesiastical sense ab orando, from praying, though in common acceptation it signifies no more than an handkerchief to wipe the face, and so comes ab ore, in which signification it is sometimes used by St. Ambrose and St. Austin, as well as by the old Roman authors. But here we take it in the ecclesiastical sense for a sacred habit appropriated to bishops, priests, and deacons, in the solemnities of divine service, in which sense it appears to have been a habit distinct from that of civil and common use, by all the authorities that have been mentioned.”—Bingham, b. 13. c. 8. sect. 2.

Nor wore he mitre here,

Precious or auriphrygiate.—XVIII. p. 164.

“Mitræ usus antiquissimus est, et ejus triplex est species: una quæ pretiosa dicitur, quia gemmis et lapidibus pretiosis, vel laminis aureis, vel argenteis contexta esse solet; altera auriphrygiata sine gemmis, et sine laminis aureis vel argenteis; sed vel aliquibus parvis margaritis composita, vel ex serico albo auro intermisto, vel ex tela aurea simplici sine laminis et margaritis; tertia, quæ simplex vocatur, sine auro, ex simplici sirico Damasceno, vel alio, aut etiam linea, ex tela alba confecta, rubeis laciniis seu frangiis et vittis pendentibus. Pretiosa utitur Episcopus in solemnioribus festis, et generaliter quandocumque in officio dicitur hymnus Te Deum laudamus, &c. et in missa Gloria in excelsis Deo. Nihilominus in eisdem festis etiam auriphrygiata uti poterit, sed potius ad commoditatem quam ex necessitate; ne scilicet Episcopus nimis gravetur, si in toto officio pretiosa utatur: propterea usu receptum est, tam in Vesperis, quam in Missis, ut pretiosa utatur Episcopus in principio et in fine Vesperarum et Missarum solemnium, ac eundo ad Ecclesiam et redeundo ab ea; et quando lavat manus et dat benedictionem solemnem. Intermedio autem spatio loco pretiosæ accipit auriphrygiatam.—Auriphrygiata mitra utitur Episcopus ab Adventu Domini usque ad festum Nativitatis, excepta Dominica tertia Adventus, in qua dicitur Introitus Gaudete, &c. ideoque in signum lætitiæ utitur tunc pretiosa. Item a Septuagesima usque ad feriam quartam majoris hebdomadæ inclusivè, excepta Dominica quarta Quadragesimæ, in qua dicitur Introitus Lætare, &c. Item in omnibus vigiliis, quæ jejunantur, et in omnibus quatuor temporibus; in Rogationibus, Litaniis et processionibus, quæ ex causa penitentiæ fiunt; in festo Innocentium, nisi veniat in Dominica; et benedictionibus, et consecrationibus, quæ private aguntur. Quibus quidem temporibus abstinet, Episcopus a mitra pretiosa. Poterit tamen Episcopus dum utitur auriphrygiata, uti etiam simplici eodem modo et forma, prout de pretiosa et auriphrygiata dictum est. Simplici vero mitra utitur Episcopus feria sexta in Parasceve, et in officiis et Missis defunctorum.”—Cæremoniale Episcoporum, l. 1. c. 17.

The pall

Of wool undyed, which on the Apostle’s tomb

Gregory had laid.—XVIII. p. 164.

“By the way, the pall is a pontifical vestment, considerable for the matter, making, and mysteries thereof. For the matter, it is made of lamb’s wooll and superstition. I say of lamb’s wooll, as it comes from the sheep’s back, without any other artificiall colour, spun, say some, by a peculiar order of nunnes, first cast into the tombe of St. Peter, taken from his body, say others, surely most sacred if from both; and superstitiously adorned with little black crosses. For the form thereof; the breadth exceeded not three fingers, one of our bachelours’ lambskin hoods in Cambridge would make three of them, having two labells hanging down before and behind, which the archbishops onely, when going to the altar, put about their necks, above their other pontificall ornaments. Three mysteries were couched therein. First, Humility, which beautifies the clergy above all their costly copes. Secondly, Innocency, to imitate lamb-like simplicitie. And, Thirdly, Industry, to follow him who fetched his wandering sheep home on his shoulders. But to speak plainly, the mystery of mysteries in the pall was, that the archbishops receiving it shewed therein their dependence on Rome; and a mote in this manner ceremoniously taken was a sufficient acknowledgement of their subjection. And as it owned Rome’s power, so in after ages it increased their profit. For, though now such palls were freely given to archbishops, whose places in Britain for the present were rather cumbersome than commodious, having little more than their paines for their labour; yet in after ages the archbishop of Canterburie’s pall was sold for five thousand florenes, so that the pope might well have the golden fleece if he could sell all his lamb’s wooll at that rate. Onely let me add, that the author of Canterbury-book stiles this pall Tanquam grande Christi Sacramentum. It is well tanquam came in to help it, or else we should have had eight sacraments.”—Fuller’s Church History, page 71.

The relics and the written works of Saints,

Toledo’s choicest treasure, prized beyond

All wealth, their living and their dead remains;

These to the mountain fastnesses he bore

Of unsubdued Cantabria, there deposed,

One day to be the boast of yet unbuilt

Oviedo, and the dear idolatry

Of multitudes unborn.—XVIII. p. 163.

“Among those,” says Morales, “who then passed from Toledo to Asturias, was the archbishop of Toledo, named Urban.—He, with a holy foresight, collected the sacred relics which he could, and the most precious books of his own church and of others, determining to carry them all to the Asturias, in order that the holy relics might not be profaned or treated with little reverence by the infidels; and that the books of the Holy Scriptures, and of the ecclesiastical offices, and the works of our holy doctors, might not be lost.—And although many relics are mentioned which the archbishop then carried from Toledo, especial mention is made of a holy ark full of many and most remarkable relics, which through divers chances and dangers, had been brought from Jerusalem to Toledo, and of which all that is fitting shall be related in its place, if it please God that this history should proceed. It is also expressly said, that the cope which Our Lady gave to St. Ildefonso, was then carried to the Asturias with the other relics; and being so capital a relic, it was a worthy thing to write of it thus particularly. Of the sacred books which were saved at that time, there are specified the Holy Scriptures, the Councils, the works of St. Isidore, and St. Ildefonso, and of St. Julian the archbishop of Toledo. And as there is at this day in the church of Oviedo that holy ark, together with many others of the relics which were then removed, so do I verily believe that there are in the library of that church three or four books of those which were then brought from Toledo. I am led to this belief by seeing that they are written in a form of Gothic letters, which being compared with writings six hundred years old, are without doubt much older, and of characters so different, that they may well be attributed to the times of the Goths. One is the volume of the Councils, another is a Santoral, another contains the books of St. Isidore de Naturis Rerum, with other works of other authors. And there are also some leaves of a Bible.—To put these sacred relics in greater security, and avoid the danger of the Moors, they hid them in a cave, and in a sort of deep pit therein, two leagues from the city of Oviedo, (which was not at that time built,) in a mountain, which was for this reason called Montesacro. It is now by a slight corruption called Monsagro; and the people of that country hold the cave in great veneration, and a great romery, or pilgrimage, is made on St. Magdalen’s day.”—Morales, l. 12. c. 71.

The place where the relics were deposited is curiously described in the Romantic Chronicle. “He found that in this land of Asturias there was a sierra, full great, and high, the which had only two entrances, after this manner. On the one entrance there was a great river, which was to be passed seven times, and in none of those seven places was it fordable at any time, except in the month of July. And after the river had been crost seven times, there was an ascent of a long league up a high mountain, which is full of many great trees and great thickets, wherein are many wild beasts, such as bears and boars and wolves, and there is a pass there between two rocks, which ten men might defend against the whole world, and this is the one entrance. The other is, that you must ascend this great mountain, by a path of two full leagues in length, on the one side having always the river, and the way so narrow, that one man must go before another, and one man can defend the path in such manner, that no arbalist, nor engine of other kind, nor any other thing, can hurt him, not if the whole world were to come against him. And if any one were to stumble upon this path, he would fall more than two thousand fathoms, down over rocks into the river, which lies at such a depth that the water appears blacker than pitch. And upon that mountain there is a good spring, and a plain where there are good meadows, and room enough to raise grain for eight or ten persons for a year; and the snow is always there for company, enduring from one year to another. And upon that mountain the archbishop made two churches, one to the honour of St. Mary Magdalen, and the other to the honour of St. Michael, and there he placed all these reliques, where he had no fear that any should take them; and for the honour of these relics, the archbishop consecrated the whole mountain, and appointed good guard over the sacred relics, and left there three men of good life, who were willing to remain there, serving God, and doing penance for their sins.”—P. 2. c. 48.

Of the Camara Santa, Morales has given a curious account in his Journal; the substance, with other remarkable circumstances, he afterwards thus inserted in his great history:—

“The other church (or chapel) which King Alonso el Casto ordered to be built on the south side of the Iglesia Mayor (or cathedral), was with the advocation of the Glorious Archangel St. Michael. And in order that he might elevate it, he placed under it another church of the Virgin and Martyr St. Leocadia, somewhat low, and vaulted with a strong arch, to support the great weight which was to be laid upon it. The king’s motive for thus elevating this church of St. Michael, I believe certainly to have been because of the great humidity of that land. He had determined to place in this church the famous relics of which we shall presently speak, and the humidity of the region is so great, that even in summer the furniture of the houses on high ground is covered with mold. This religious prince therefore elevated the church with becoming foresight for reverence and better preservation of the precious treasure which was therein to be deposited. For this reason they call it Camara, (the chamber,) and for the many and great relics which it contains, it has most deservedly the appellation of Holy. You ascend to it by a flight of twenty-two steps, which begin in the cross of the Iglesia Mayor (or cathedral), and lead to a vaulted apartment twenty feet square, where there is an altar upon which mass is said; for within there is no altar, neither is mass said there by reason of the reverence shewn to so great a sanctuary; and it may be seen that K. D. Alonso intended in his plan that there should be no altar within. In this apartment or outer chapel is a great arched door, with a very strong fastening; it leads to another smaller square chamber, vaulted also, with a square door, which also is fastened with another strong fastening, and these are the fastenings and keys which the Bishop Sampyro admires for their strength and security.

“The square door is the door of the Holy Chamber, which is in the form of a complete church, and you descend to it by twelve steps. The body of this church is twenty-four feet in length, and sixteen in width. Its arched roof is of the same dimensions. The roof is most richly wrought, and supported upon six columns of divers kinds of marble, all precious and right beautiful, upon which the twelve apostles are sculptured, two and two. The ground is laid with Mosaic work, with variety of columns, representing jasper ware. The Bishop Sampyro had good reason to complain of the darkness of this church, which has only one small window in the upper part of the chapel; and, therefore, in this which we call the body of the church, there are commonly three silver lamps burning, the one in the middle larger than the other two, and many other lights are kindled when the relics are shewn. These are kept within a grating, which divides the chapel from the church. The chapel has two rich marbles at the entrance; it is eighteen feet in length, and its width somewhat less; the floor and the roof are after the same fashion as those of the church, but it is one estado lower, which in those times seems to have been customary in Asturias and in Gallicia, the Capillas Mayores, or principal chapels, being much lower than the body of the church. The roof of the chapel is plain, and has painted in the middle our Saviour in the midst of the four evangelists; and this performance is so ancient, that it is manifestly of the age of the founder. At this iron grating strangers are usually detained; there is a lower one within of wood, to which persons are admitted who deserve this privilege for their dignity; and few there be who enter farther. This church the king built to remove to it, as accordingly he forthwith removed, the Holy Ark, the holy bodies, and the other great relics, which, at the destruction of Spain, were hidden in the cave and well of Monsagro, and for this cause he had it built with so much care, and so richly, and with such security.——

“I have described the Camara Santa thus particularly, that what I may say of the most precious relics which it contains may be the better enjoyed. I will particularize the most principal of them, beginning with the Holy Ark, which with great reason has deserved this name. It is in the midst of the chapel, close to the wooden grate, so that you can only go round it on three sides, and it is placed upon a stone pedestal, wrought with mouldings of a palm in height. It is a vara and a half (about five feet) in length; little less than a vara wide, and about as deep, that part which is of silver, not including the height which the pedestal gives it. The cover is flat, and it is covered in all parts with silver plates of some thickness, and gilt on some places. In the front, or that side which fronts the body of the church, it has the twelve apostles in more than half relief, and on the sides there are histories of Our Lady in the same silver-work. On the flat part of the cover there is a large crucifix engraved with many other images round about it. The sides are elaborately wrought with foliage, and the whole displays great antiquity. The cover has round about it four lines in the silver, which, however, are imperfect, the silver being wanting in some places. What they contain is this, as I have copied it faithfully, with its bad Latin and other faults:—

“Omnis conventus populi Deo dignus catholici cognoscat, quorum inclytas veneratur reliquias, intra pretiosissima præsentis archælatera. Hoc est de ligno plurimum, sive de cruce Domini. De vestimentis illius, quod per sortem divisum est. De pane delectabili unde in cena usus est. De sindone Dominico ejus adque sudario et cruore sanctissimo. De terra sancta quam piis calcavit tunc vestigiis. De vestimentis matris ejus Virginis Mariæ. De lacte quoque ejus, quod multum est mirabile, His pariter conjunctæ sunt quædam sanctorum maxime prestantes reliquiæ, quorum prout potuimus, hæc nomina subscripsimus. Hoc est de Sancto Petro, de Sancto Thoma, Sancti Bartolomei. De ossibus Prophetarum, de omnibus Apostolis, et de aliis quam plurimis sanctis, quorum nomina sola Dei scientia colligit. His omnibus egregius Rex Adefonsus humili devotione perditus fecit hoc receptaculum, sanctorum pignoribus insignitum argento deauratum, exterius adornatum non vilibus operibus: per quod post ejus vitam mereatur consortium illorum in cœlestibus sanctorum jubari precibus. Hæc quidem saluti et re——Here a large piece of the silver is gone.—Novit omnis provintia in terra sine dubio.——Here there is another great chasm.—Manus et industria clericorum et præsulum, qui propter hoc convenimus cum dicto Adefonso Principe, et cum germana læctissima Urraca nomina dicta: quibus Redemptor omnium concedit indulgentiam et suorum peccatorum veniam, per hoc sanctorum pignora Apostolorum et Sancti Justi et Pastoris, Cosmæ et Damiani, Eulaliæ Virginis, et Maximi, Germani, Baudili, Pantaleonis, Cypriani et Justinæ, Sebastiani, Facundi et Primitivi, Christophori, Cucufati, Felicis, Sulpicii.

“This inscription, with its bad Latin and other defects, and by reason of the parts that are lost, can ill be translated. Nevertheless I shall render it, in order that it may be enjoyed by all. It says thus: Know all the congregation of Catholic people, worthy of God, whose the famous relics are, which they venerate within the most precious sides of this ark. Know then that herein is great part of the wood or cross of our Lord. Of his garment for which they cast lots. Of the blessed bread whereof he ate at the supper. Of his linen, of the holy handkerchief (the Sudario), and of his most holy blood. Of the holy ground which he then trod with his holy feet. Of the garments of his mother the Virgin Mary, and also of her milk, which is a great wonder. With these also there are many capital relics of saints, whose names we shall write here as we can. Saint Peter, St. Thomas, St. Bartholomew. Bones of the prophets, and of all the Apostles, and of many other saints whose names are known only to the wisdom of God. The noble King Don Alonso, being full of humble devotion for all these holy relics, made this repository, adorned and ennobled with pledges of the saints, and on the outside covered with silver, and gilded with no little cunning. For the which may he deserve after this life the company of these Saints in heaven, being aided by their intercession.—These holy relics were placed here by the care and by the hands of many clergy and prelates, who were here assembled with the said King D. Alonso, and with his chosen sister called Donna Urraca. To whom may the Redeemer of all grant remission and pardon of their sins, for the reverence and rich reliquary which they made for the said relics of the Apostles, and for those of the Saints, St. Justus and Pastor, St. Cosme and St. Damian, St. Eulalia the Virgin, and of the Saints Maximus, Germanus, Baudilus, Pantaleon, Cyprianus and Justina, Sebastian, Facundus and Primitivus, Christopher, Cucufatus, Felix and Sulpicius.——

“The sum of the manner in which this Holy Ark came into Spain is this, conformably to what is written by all our grave authors. When Cosroes the King of Persia, in the time of the Emperor Heraclius, came upon the Holy Land, and took the city of Jerusalem, the bishop of that city, who was called Philip, and his clergy, with pious forethought, secreted the Holy Ark, which from the time of the Apostles had been kept there, and its stores augmented with new relics, which were deposited therein. After the victory of Cosroes, the Bishop Philip, with many of his clergy, passed into Africa, carrying with them the Holy Ark: and there it remained some years, till the Saracens entered into that province also, and then Fulgentius the Bishop of Ruspina, with providence like that which had made Philip bring it to Africa, removed it into Spain. Thus it came to the Holy Church of Toledo, and was from thence removed to Asturias, and hidden in the cave of Monsagro: finally, King D. Alonso el Casto removed it to the Camara Santa; and afterwards K. D. Alonso the Great enriched it. Thus our histories write, and the same is read in the lessons on the festival which the church of Oviedo celebrates of the coming there of this Holy Ark, with a sermon proper for the day, and much solemnity, the service being said on the 13th of March after vespers, above in the church of the Camara Santa. This is a most weighty testimony which the Holy Ark possesses of its own authenticity, and of the genuineness of the most great treasure which it contains.—These also are strong testimonies, that K. D. Alonso the Great should not only have made the Ark so rich, but that this king should also have fortified the city of Oviedo, surrounding it with walls, and making for it a castle, and building also the castle of Gauzon upon the shore, for the defence and security of this holy treasure, and for another end, as he left written upon the stone of which we have elsewhere spoken. Another testimony of great authority, is the great reverence which has been shewn to this Holy Ark, from the time which is spoken of by Alonso the Great in the inscription, to these our days. This is so great that no one has dared to open it, melancholy examples being related of some daring attempts which have been made. That which occurred in our days is not mournful, but rather of much devotion and holy joy. The most illustrious Señor D. Christoval de Rojas y Sandoval, who is now the most worthy Archbishop of Seville, when he was Bishop of Oviedo, determined to open the Holy Ark. For this, as the singular devotion and most holy zeal for the glory of God which he has in all things, admonished him, he made such pious preparations as the fame of so celestial a treasure shewed to be necessary. He proclaimed solemnly a fast of forty days in his church and through all his diocese, commanding that prayers should be made to our Lord, beseeching him that he would be pleased with what was intended, his Most-Illustriousness giving the example, which is very common and very edifying in his church, in himself, and in the ministers thereof. Three days before the Sunday on which the Ark was to be opened, he ordered all persons to fast, and to make greater prayers with processions. When the day arrived, he said pontifical mass, and preached, infusing with his holy exhortations much of his own devout desires into the hearts of the hearers. The mass being finished, clad as he was, he ascended to the Camara Santa, with much outward solemnity, and with much fervour of devotion internally in his heart; and having there again renewed his humble prayers to our Lord, and quickened the ardour of that sacred desire which had influenced him; on his knees as he was before the Holy Ark, he took the key to open it. At the moment when he stretched out his hand to put the key in the lock, suddenly he felt such horror and dismay, and found himself so bereft of all power (tan impossibilitado) to move it in any way, that it was impossible for him to proceed, or do any thing but remain in that holy consternation, without having strength or ability for more. And as if he had come there to oppose and prevent that which purposely, and with so much desire and preparation, he had intended to do, he desisted from his intent, and gave it up, his whole holy desire being turned into a chill of humble shrinking and fear. Among other things which his most Illustrious Lordship relates of what he then felt, he says, that his hair stood up in such a manner and with such force, that it seemed to him, as if it lifted the mitre a considerable way from his head. Now, we all know that this famous prelate has vigour and persevering courage for all the great things which he undertakes in the service of our Lord; but in this manner the Holy Ark remained unopened then, and thus I believe it will always remain fastened more surely with veneration and reverence, and with respect of these examples, than with the strong bolt of its lock.

“In the inscription of this Holy Ark, mention is made of the relics of St. Baudilus, and by reason that he is a Saint very little known, it will be proper to say something of him. This Saint is much reverenced in Salamanca and in Zamora, and in both cities he has a parochial church, and in Zamora they have a good part of his relics. They have so much corrupted the name, calling him St. Boal, that the Saint is now scarcely known by his own.

“They of the church say, that the cope of St. Ildefonso, which Our Lady gave him, is in the Ark. This may well be believed, since our good authors particularly relate that it was carried to Oviedo with the Holy Ark, and with the other relics, and it does not now appear among them, and there is much more reason to think that it has been very carefully put away, than that it has been lost. Also they say, that when the celestial cope was put into the Holy Ark, they took out of it the piece of the holy Sudario, in which the head of our Redeemer was wrapped up for his interment, as is said in the inscription of the Ark. This is one of the most famous relics in all Christendom, and therefore it is most richly adorned, and reverently preserved, being shown only three times in the year with the greatest solemnity. The box in which it is kept is wrought without of gold and azure, with beautiful mouldings and pictures, and other ornaments of much authority. Within this there is a square piece of wood, covered entirely with black velvet, with silver handles, and other decorations of silver round about; in the hollow of this square, the holy Sudario is stretched and fastened upon the velvet; it is a thin linen cloth, three quarters long and half a vara wide, and in many places full of the divine blood from the head of our Redeemer, in divers forms and stains of various sizes; wherein some persons observe marks of the divine countenance and other particularities. I did not perceive this; but the feeling which came upon me when I looked at it is sufficient to make me believe any thing of it; and if a wretch like me was thus affected, what must it be with those who deserve of our Lord greater regalements on such an occasion? It is exhibited to the people three times in the year; on Good Friday, and on the two festivals of the Cross in May and in September, and there is then a great concourse from all the country, and from distant parts. This part of the cross of the church where the Camara Santa is, is richly hung, and in the first apartment of the Camara, a corridor is erected for this exhibition, which is closed that day with curtains of black velvet, and a canopy that extends over the varandas. The Bishop in his pontificals, with his assistants and other grave persons, places himself behind the curtains with the Holy Sudario, holding it by the silver handles, covered with a veil. The curtains are undrawn, and the quiristers below immediately begin the Miserere. The Bishop lifts the veil, and at the sight of the Holy Sudario, another music begins of the voices of the people, deeply affected with devotion, which verily penetrates all hearts. The Bishop stands some time, turning the Sacred Relic to all sides, and afterwards the veil being replaced, and the curtains redrawn, he replaces the Holy Sudario in its box. With all these solemnities, the very Illustrious and most Reverend Señor, M. D. Gonzalo de Solorzano, Bishop of Oviedo, exhibited this Holy Relic on the day of Santiago, in the year of our Redeemer 1572, in order that I might bear a more complete relation of the whole to the King our Lord, I having at that time undertaken this sacred journey by his command.

“Another chest, with a covering of crimson and brocade, contains a good quantity of bones, and some pieces of a head; which, although they are very damp, have a most sweet odour, and this all we who were present perceived, when they were shown me, and we spoke of it as of a notable and marvellous thing. The account which they of the church give of this holy body is, that it is that of St. Serrano, without knowing any thing more of it. I, considering the great dampness of the sacred bones believe certainly that it was brought up to the Camara Santa from the church of Leocadia, which, as it has been seen, is underneath it. And there, in the altar, the great stone-chest is empty, in which King Alonso el Casto enclosed many relics, as the Bishop Sampyro writes. For myself I have always held for certain, that the body of St. Leocadia is that which is in this rich chest. And in this opinion I am the more confirmed since the year 1580, when such exquisite diligence has been used by our Spaniards in the monastery of St. Gisleno, near Mons de Henao in Flanders, to verify whether the body of St. Leocadia, which they have there, is that of our Saint. The result has been, that it was ascertained beyond all doubt to be the same; since an authentic writing was found of the person who carried it thither by favour of one of our earliest kings, and he carried it from Oviedo without dispute; because, according to my researches, it is certain that it was there. Now I affirm, that the king who gave part left part also; and neither is that which is there so much, that what we saw at Oviedo might not well have been left, neither is this so much but that which is at Mons might well have been given.

“In the church below, in a hollow made for this purpose, with grates, and a gate well ornamented, is one of the vessels which our Redeemer Jesus Christ filled with miraculous wine at the marriage in Galilee. It is of white marble, of an ancient fashion, more than three feet high, and two wide at the mouth, and contains more than six arrobas. And forasmuch as it is in the wall of the church of K. Alonso el Casto, and all the work about it is very ancient, it may be believed that the said king ordered it to be placed there.”—Coronica General de Espana, l. 13. b. 40.

Morales gives an outline of this vessel in his Journal, and observes, that if the Christians transported it by land, particular strength and the aid of God would have been necessary to carry it so many leagues, and move it over the rugged mountains of Europa;—but, he adds, it might have come by water from Andalusia or Portugal, and in that case this would have been a land journey of only four or five leagues.—In his Journal, Morales mentions certain other relics of which the church of Oviedo boasted, but for which he required better evidence than could be adduced for them. Such were a portion of Tobit’s fish, and of Sampson’s honey-comb, with other such things, which, he says, would lessen the credit of the Ark, where, according to the Bishop of Oviedo, D. Pelayo, and Sebastian, Bishop of Salamanca, they were deposited. Of these precious relics he says nothing in his history, neither does he mention a piece of Moses’s rod, a large piece of St. Bartholomew’s skin, and the sole of St. Peter’s shoe, all which he enumerates in his Journal, implying rather than expressing his doubts of their authenticity. As a scrupulous and faithful antiquary, Morales was accustomed to require evidence, and to investigate it; and for these he could find no other testimony than tradition and antiquity, which, as presumptive proofs, were strong corroborants of faith, but did not suffice of themselves. The Holy Ark has all the evidence which he required, and the reverence with which he regarded it, is curiously expressed in his Journal. “I have now,” he says, “described the material part of the Camara Santa. The spiritual and devout character which it derives from the sacred treasures which it contains, and the feeling which is experienced upon entering it, cannot be described without giving infinite thanks to our Lord, that he has been pleased to suffer a wretch like me to enjoy it. I write this in the church before the grating, and God knows I am as it were beside myself with fear and reverence, and I can only beseech God to give me strength to proceed with that for which I have no power myself.”—T. 10. Viage, p. 91.

Morales, like Origen, had given in his youth a decisive proof of the sincerity of his religious feelings, and it sometimes seems as if he had emasculated his mind as well as his body. But with all this abject superstition, he was a thoroughly pious and good man. His life is deeply interesting, and his writings, besides their great historical and antiquarian value, derive additional interest from the picture of the author’s mind which they so frequently display. The portrait prefixed to the last edition of his work is singularly characteristic.

The proud array,

Of ermines, aureate vests, and jewelry,

With all which Leuvigild for after kings

Left, ostentatious of his power?—XVIII. p. 165.

“Postremum bellum Suevis intulit, regnumque eorum in jura gentis suæ mirâ celeritate transmisit. Hispania magna ex parte potitus, nam antea gens Gothorum angustis finibus arctabatur.—Fiscum quoque primus iste locupletavit, primusque ærarium de rapinis civium, hostiumque manubiis auxit. Primusque etiam inter suos regali veste opertus in solio resedit. Nam ante eum et habitus et consessus communis, ut populo, ita et regibus erat.”—S. Isidor. Hist. Goth.—Espana Sagrada, 6. 498-9.

The Sueve.—XVIII. p. 166.

As late as the age of the Philips, the Portugueze were called Sevosos by the Castillians, as an opprobrious name. Brito says, It was the old word Suevos continued and corrupted, and used contemptuously, because its origin was forgotten.—Monarchia Lusitana, 2. 6. 4.

When the Sueves and Alans over-ran Spain they laid siege to Lisbon, and the Saints Maxima, Julia, and Verissimus (a most undoubted personage) being Lisbonians, were applied to by their town’s people to deliver them. Accordingly, a sickness broke out in the besieger’s camp, and they agreed to depart upon payment of a sum of money. Bernardo de Brito complains that Blondus and Sabellicus, in their account of this transaction, have been so careless as to mention the money and omit the invocation of the Saints.—M. Lus. 2. 5. 23.

Lord God of Hosts, &c.—XVIII. p. 168.

The substance of these prayers will be found in the forms of coronation observed by the Anglo-Saxons, and in the early ages of the French monarchy. I am indebted for them to Turner’s most valuable History of the Anglo-Saxons, and to Mr. Lingard’s Antiquities of the Anglo-Saxon Church, a work not more full of erudition than it is of Romish sophistry and misrepresentation.

Roderick brought

The buckler.—XVIII. p. 169.

Toman, diziendo aquesto, un ancho escudo

El Duque y Conde y hombres principales,

De pies encima el Principe membrudo

Lo levantan assi del suelo iguales:

Y alçarlo en peso, quanto alçar se pudo

De alçarlo por su Rey fueron señales,

Real, Real, Real, diziendo todos,

Segun costumbre antigua de los Godos.

Ch. de Messa. Rastauracion de Espana, l. 4. ff. 34.

Rejoice,

O Leon, for thy banner is display’d.—XVIII. p. 170.

“La primera ciudad que gaño dizen fue Leon, y desde alli se llamo Rey de Leon, y tomo por armas un Leon roxo en campo blanco, dexando las antiguas armas de los Godos, que eran un Leon bermejo rampante, en campo azul, buelta la cara atras, sobre tres ondas blancas y azules.”—Fran. de Pisa. Desc. de Toledo, l. 3. c. 2.

Fue la del quinto globo roxa estrella

rayo de su valor, voz de su fama,

y Leon de su escudo y luzimiento,

heredado blason, Signo sangriento.

Coro de las Musas, p. 102.

“Les anciennes armes estoient parlantes, comme l’on void en celles des Comtes de Castille, et des Rois de Leon, qui prindrent des Chateaux et des Lions, pour signifier les noms vulgaires des Provinces, par le blason de leurs armes; qui ne se reportent pas a l’ancienne denomination de Castulo et de Legio, chés Pline.”—Pierre de Marca, Hist. de Bearn, l. 1. c. 12. § 11.

“The Lion’s grinders are, relevées de trois pointes un peu creusées dans leur centre, dans lesquelles les speculatifs croyent voir la figure d’une fleur de lys. Je n’ay garde de dire le contraire,” says P. Labat, “il est permis a bien des gens de voir dans les nuës et dans les charbons ardens tout ce qu’il plaît à leur imagination de s’y representer; pourquoy ne sera-t-il pas libre de voir sur les dents du Lion la figure des fleurs de lys? Je doute que les Espagnols en conviennent, eux qui prennent le Lion pour les armes et le symbole de leur monarchie; car on pourrait leur dire que c’est une marque que sans le secours de la France, leur Lion ne seroit pas fort a craindre.”—Afrique Occidentale, T. ii. p. 14.

And Tagus bends his sickle round the scene

Of Roderick’s fall.—XVIII. p. 171.

There is a place at Toledo called la Alcurnia. “El nombre de Alcurnia es Arabigo, que es dezir cosa de cuerno, o en forma de cuerno, lo que Christianos llamavan foz, o hoz de Tajo. Llamase assi porque desde que este rio passa por debaxo de la puente de Alcantara, va haziendo una buelta y torcedura, que en una escritura antigua se llama hoz de Tajo. Lo mesmo acontecio a Arlança cerca de Lara, de donde se llamo la hoz de Lara, como lo nota Ambrosio de Morales; y en el Reyno de Toledo ay la hoz de Jucar.”—Francisco de Pisa. Desc. de Toledo, l. i. c. 14.

Amid our deserts we hunt down the birds

Of heaven, ... wings do not save them!—XX. p. 187.

The Moors have a peculiar manner of hunting the partridge. In the plains of Akkermute and Jibbel Hidded in Shedma, they take various kinds of dogs with them, from the greyhound to the shepherd’s dog, and following the birds on horseback, and allowing them no time to rest, they soon fatigue them, when they are taken by the dogs. But as the Mooselmin eats nothing but what has had its throat cut, he takes out his knife, and exclaiming Bismillah, in the name of God, cuts the throat of the game.—Jackson’s Morocco, p. 121.

A hasty grave, scarce hidden there from dogs

And ravens, nor from wintry rains secure.—XXII. p. 204.

In composing these lines I remembered a far more beautiful passage in one of the Eclogues of the Jesuit Bussieres:—

Artesius ruit ecce furens, finesque propinquos

Insultans, stragem agricolis fugientibus infert.

Quid facerem? matrem, ut potui, tenerumque puellum

Raptabam, et mediis abdebam corpora silvis.

Aspera jam frigebat hyems, frondosaque quercus

Pro tecto et latebris ramos præbebat opacos;

Algentem fovi matrem; fovet illa rigentem

Infantem gremio. Sub prima crepuscula lucis

Progredior, tectum miseris si forte pateret;

Silvam fusus eques telis infensus habebat;

Bona fugio, et capio compendia tuta viarum.

Conditur atra dies; cœlo nox horrida surgit.

Quam longis mihi nox misero producitur horis!

Quos gemitus fletusque dedi: quam proxima votum

Lux fuit! heu tristi lux infensissima clade!

Currebam ad notam quercum per devia tesqua.

Dux amor est. Annam video, puerumque jacentem

Affixum uberibus, duræ succumbere morti.

Ipsa parens, postquam ad vocem conversa vocantis

In me amplexantem morientia lumina fixit,

Eluctantem animam glaciato e corpore mittit.

Obrigui, frigusque novum penetravit in ossa:

Felix, si simili potuissem occumbere letho;

Sors infesta vetat. Restabat cura sepulchri,

Quo foderem ferrum deerat; miserabile corpus

Frondibus obtexi, puerum nec ab ubere vulsi

Sicut erat foliis tegitur; funusque paratur,

Heu nimis incertum, et primis violabile ventis.

——their white signal-flag.—XXIII. p. 212.

A white flag, called El Alem, the signal, is hoisted every day at twelve o’clock, to warn the people out of hearing, or at a great distance, to prepare, by the necessary preliminary ablutions, to prostrate themselves before God at the service of prayer.—Jackson’s Morocco, p. 149.

The Humma’s happy wings have shadowed him.—XXIII. p. 213.

The humma is a fabulous bird: The head over which its shadow once passes will assuredly be encircled with a crown.—Wilkes, S. of India, v. i. p. 423.

Life hath not left his body.—XXIII. p. 217.

Among the Prerogatives et Propriétés singulières du Prophète, Gagnier states that, “Il est vivant dans son Tombeau. Il fait la prière dans ce Tombeau à chaque fois que le Crieur en fait la proclamation, et au même tems qu’on la recite. Il y a un Ange posté sur son Tombeau qui a le soin de lui donner avis des Pri res que les Fidèles font pour lui.”—Vie de Mahomet, l. vii. c. 18.

The common notion that the impostor’s tomb is suspended by means of a loadstone is well known. Labat, in his Afrique Occidentale (T. ii. p. 143.) mentions the lie of a Marabout, who, on his return from a pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina, affirmed, “que le tombeau de Mahomet etoit porté en l’air par le moyen de certains Anges qui se relayent d’heure en heures pour soutenir ce fardeau.” These fables, however, are modest in comparison with those which the Franciscans and Dominicans have invented to magnify their founders.

Hast thou not heard

How when our clay is leaven’d first with life,

The ministering Angel brings it from that spot

Whereon ’tis written in the eternal book

That soul and body must their parting take,

And earth to earth return?—XXIII. p. 217.

The Persians in their creed have a pleasant imagination concerning the death of men. They say, that every one must come and die in the place where the Angel took the earth of which he hath been made, thinking that one of these spirits has the care of forming the human creature, which he doth by mingling a little earth with the seed.—Thevenot.

They perish, all their thousands perish there.—XXIII. p. 220.

The battle of Covadonga is one of the great miracles of Spanish history. It was asserted for many centuries without contradiction, and is still believed by the people, that when the Moors attacked Pelayo in the cave, their weapons were turned back upon themselves; that the Virgin Mary appeared in the clouds, and that part of a mountain fell upon the Infidels, and crushed those who were flying from the destruction. In what manner that destruction might have been effected, was exemplified upon a smaller scale in the Tyrol in the memorable war of 1809.

Barret sums up the story briefly, and in the true strain of Mine Ancient.

The Sarr’cen hearing that th’ Asturianites

Had king created, and stood on their guard,

Sends multitudes of Mohametized knights

To rouse them out their rocks, and force their ward.

Pelagius, hearing of this enterprize,

Prepares his petty power on Auseve mount;

Alchameh comes with Zarzen multiplies,

Meaning Pelagius’ forces to dismount.

To blows they come: but lo; a stroke divine.

The Iber, few, beats numbrous Sarracene,

Two myriads with Mahomet went to dine

In Parca’s park.

The Bread of Life.—XXIV. p. 229.

It is now admitted by the best informed of the Romish writers themselves, that, for a thousand years, no other but common or leavened bread was used in the Eucharist. The wafer was introduced about the eleventh century. And as far down as the twelfth century the people were admitted to communicate in both kinds.

And let no shame be offer’d his remains.—XXV. p. 234.

According to the Comendador Fernan Nunez, in his Commentary upon the Trezientas, the tomb of Count Julian was shown in his days about four leagues from Huesca at a castle called Loarri, on the outside of a church which was in the castle.

His wonted leathern gipion.—XXV. p. 236.

The Musical Pilgrim in Purchas thus describes the Leonese:—

Wymmen in that land use no vullen,

But alle in lether be the wounden:

And her hevedez wonderly ben trust,

Standing in her forheved as a crest,

In rould clouthez lappet alle be forn

Like to the prikke of a N’unicorn.

And men have doubelettez full schert,

Bare legget and light to stert.—P. 1231.

Purchas supposes this very curious poem to have been written about 200 years before he published it, i. e. about 1425. It is probably much older. In entering Castille from Elvas, the author says,

Now into Castell schall we fare

Over the river, the land is bare.

Full of heath and hunger also,

And Sarasynez Governouriz thereto.

Now Badajoz and that part of the country was finally recovered from the Moors in the early part of the thirteenth century. Purchas perhaps judged from the age of the manuscript, which may have been written about the time on which he fixes, and the language modernised by the transcriber.

The light which o’er the fields of Bethlehem shone,

Irradiated whole Spain.—XXV. p. 238.

“Fallamos en las estorias que aquella ora que nuestro Señor Jesu Christo nascio, seyendo media noche, aparesçio una nuve sobre España que dio tan gran claridad, e tan gran resplandor, e tan gran calor, como el sol en medio del dia quando va mas apoderado sobre la tierra. E departen los sabios e dizen que se entiende por aquella que despues de Jesu Christo vernie su mandadero a España a predicar a los gentiles la ceguedad en que estavan, e que los alumbrarie con la fee de Jesu Chrysto, e aquesto fue San Pablo. Otros departen que en España avie de nasçer un prinçipe chrystiano que serie señor de todo el mundo, e valdrie mas por el todo el linaje de los omes, bien como esclarescio toda la tierra por la claridad de aquella nuve en quanto ella duro.”—Coronica General, ff. 71.

A more extraordinary example of the divine favour towards Spain is triumphantly brought forward by Francisco de Pisa. “Our Lord God,” says he, “has been pleased to preserve these kingdoms in the purity of the Faith, like a terrestrial Paradise, by means of the Cherubim of the Holy Office, which with its sword of fire has defended the entrance, through the merits and patronage of the most serene Virgin Mary the Mother of God.” “Ha sido servido nuestro Señor Dios conservar estos reynos de España en la entereza de la Fe, como a un Parayso terrenal, mediante el Cherubin del Santo Officio, que con su espada de fuego les ha defendido la entrada por los meritos y patrocinio de la serenissima Virgen Maria Madre de Dios.”—Desc. de Toledo, L. 1. C. 25.

This passage is truly and lamentably characteristic.

The Oaken Cross.—XXV. p. 241.

The oaken cross which Pelayo bore in battle is said to have been preserved at Oviedo in the Camara Santa in company with that which the angels made for Alfonso the Great, concerning which Morales delivers a careful opinion, how much of it was made by the angels, and how much has been human workmanship. The people of Cangas, not willing that Pelayo’s cross should be in any thing inferior to his successors’, insist that it fell from Heaven. Morales however says, it is more certain that the king had it made to go out with it to battle at Covadonga. It was covered with gold and enamel in the year 908; when Morales wrote, it was in fine preservation, and doubtless so continued till the present generation. Upon the top branch of the cross there was this inscription: Susceptum placide maneat hoc in honore Dei, quod offerunt famuli Christi Adefonsus Princeps et Scemena Regina. On the right arm, Quisquis auferre hæc donaria nostra presumpserit, fulmine divino intereat ipse. On the left, Hoc opus perfectum est, concessum est Sancto Salvatori Ovetensis Sedis. Hoc signo tuetur pius, hoc signo vincitur inimicus. On the foot, Et operatum est in Castello Gauzon anno Regni nostri XVII discurrente Era DCCCCXLVI.

“There is no other testimony,” says Morales, “that this is the cross of King Don Pelayo, than tradition handed down from one age to another. I wish the king had stated that it was so in his inscription, and I even think he would not have been silent upon this point, unless he had wished to imitate Alonso el Casto, who, in like manner, says nothing concerning the Angels upon his cross.” This passage is very characteristic of good old Ambrosio.

Like a mirror sparkling to the sun.—XXV. p. 247.

The Damascus blades are so highly polished, that when any one wants to arrange his turban, he uses his scymetar for a looking-glass.—Le Brocquière, p. 138.

Oh who could tell what deeds were wrought that day,

Or who endure to hear.—XXV. p. 248.

I have nowhere seen a more curious description of a battle between Christians and Saracens than in Barret’s manuscript:

The forlorn Christian troops Moon’d troops encharge,

The Mooned troops requite them with the like;

Whilst Grecian lance cracks (thundering) Parthian targe,

Parth’s flame-flash arrow Grecian through doth prick:

And whilst that Median scymetar unlimbs

The Christian knight, doth Christian curtle-axe,

Unhead the Median horsemen; whilst here dims

The Pagan’s goggling-eyes by Greekish axe,

The Greek unhorsed lies by Persian push,

And both all rageful grapple on the ground.

And whilst the Saracen with furious rush

The Syrian shocks, the Syrian as round

Down shouldreth Saracen: whilst Babel blade

Sends soul Byzantine to the starred cell,

Byzantine pike with like-employed trade,

Packs Babel’s spirit posting down to hell.

Who from their thirsty sands

Pray that the locusts on the peopled plain

May settle and prepare their way.—XXV. p. 249.

The Saharawans, or Arabs of the Desert, rejoice to see the clouds of locusts proceeding towards the north, anticipating therefrom a general mortality, which they call elkhere, the good or the benediction; for, after depopulating the rich plains of Barbary, it affords to them an opportunity of emanating from their arid recesses, in the desert, to pitch their tents in the desolated plains, or along the banks of some river.—Jackson’s Morocco, p. 106.

But where was he whose hand

Had wielded it so well that glorious day?—XXV. p. 250.

The account which the Romantic Chronicle gives of Roderick after his disappearance, is in so singular a strain of fiction, that I have been tempted to translate it. It strikingly exemplifies the doctrine of penance, of which monastic history supplies many instances almost as extraordinary as this fable.

Chap. 238.—How the King Don Rodrigo left the battle and arrived at a hermitage, and of that which befell him.

“Now when the King Don Rodrigo had escaped from the battle, he began to go as fast as he could upon his horse along the banks of the Guadalete, and night came on, and the horse began to fail by reason of the many wounds which he had received; and as he went thus by the river side deploring the great ruin which had come upon him, he knew not where he was, and the horse got into a quagmire, and when he was in he could not get out. And when the king saw this he alighted, and stript off all his rich arms and the furniture thereof, and took off his crown from his head, and threw them all into the quagmire, saying, Of earth was I made, and even so are all my deeds like unto mud and mire. Therefore my pomp and vanity shall be buried in this mud till it has all returned again to earth, as I myself must do. And the vile end which I have deserved will beseem me well, seeing that I have been the principal cause of this great cruelty. And as he thus stript off all his rich apparel, he cast the shoes from his feet, and went his way, and wandered on towards Portugal; and he travelled so far that night and the day following, that he came to a hermitage near the sea, where there was a good man who had dwelt there serving God for full forty years; and now he was of great age, for he was well nigh a hundred years old. And he entered into the hermitage, and found a crucifix therein, being the image of our Lord Jesus Christ, even as he was crucified, and for the remembrance of Him, he bent both his knees to the ground, and claspt his hands, weeping and confessing his sins before God, for he weened not that any man in the world saw or heard him. And he said thus, O very Lord who by thy word hast made all the world from nothing which it was, and hast created all things, those which are visible to men, and those which are invisible, the heavenly as well as the earthly, and who didst incarnate thyself that thou mightest undergo thy passion and death, to save those who firmly put their trust in thee, giving up thy holy ghost from thy glorified body upon the tree of the true cross,—and who didst descend into Hell, and deliveredst thy friends from thence, and didst regale them with the glory of Heaven; And afterwards thy holy spirit came again into that most holy body, which thou wast pleased to take upon thee in this world; and, manifesting thyself for the true God which thou wert, thou didst deign to abide in this dark world forty days with their nights, and then thou didst ascend into thy heavenly glory, and didst enlighten with the grace of the Holy Ghost thy beloved disciples. I beseech thee, O Lord, that thou wouldst enlighten me, a king in tribulation, wretched and full of many sins, and deserving all evils; let not the soul which is thine, and which cost thee so dear, receive the evil and the desert of this abominable flesh; and may it please thee, O Lord, after the downfall, destruction, perdition, and desolation, which I, a miserable king, have suffered in this world, that my disconsolate soul may not be forgotten by thee, and that all this misery may be in satisfaction for my errors. And I earnestly beseech thee, O Lord, that thy grace may breathe upon me, that in this world I may make satisfaction for my sins, so that at the Great Day of Judgement I may not be condemned to the torments of hell.

“Having said these words, weeping as though he would burst, he remained there a long hour. And when the Hermit heard him say all this, he was greatly astonished, and he went unto him. And when the King saw him he was little pleased; howbeit after he had talked with him, he would rather have found him there than have been restored again to the great honour which he had lost; for the Hermit comforted him in such wise in this his tribulation, that he was right well contented; and he confessed unto him, and told him all that concerned him. And the Hermit said to him, King, thou shalt remain in this hermitage, which is a remote place, and where thou mayest lead thy life as long as it shall please God. And for me, on the third day from hence, I shall pass away out of this world; and thou shalt bury me, and thou shalt take my garments, and fulfil the time of a year in this hermitage. Take no thought as to provision for thy support, for every Friday thou shalt have it after the same manner as I, and thou shalt so husband it, that it may suffice thee for the whole week; That flesh which hath been fostered in great delight shall suffer abstinence, lest it should grow proud; and thou shalt endure hunger and cold and thirst in the love of our Lord, that he may have compassion upon thee. Thy station till the hour of sleep must always be upon that rock, where there is an oratory facing the east; and thou shalt continue the service of God in such manner as God will direct thee to do. And take heed that thy soul fall not into temptation. And since thou hast spoken this day of penitence, to-morrow thou shalt communicate and receive the true body of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will be thy protection and support against the enemy and the persecutor. And put thou thy firm trust in the sign of the Cross; and thus shalt thou please thy Saviour.

“Many other things the holy Hermit said, which made the King right joyful to hear them; and there they continued till it was the hour for sleep. And the holy Hermit shewed him his bed, and said, When I shall have left the company, thou wilt follow the ways which I have followed, for which our Lord will have mercy upon thee, and will extend his hand over thee, that thou mayest persevere in good, and in his holy service. And then they laid down and slept till it was the hour of matins, when they should both arise. And the Hermit awoke him, for as the King had not slept for a long time, and was moreover full weary, he would not have awaked so soon, if the Hermit had not roused him; and they said their hours. And when it was time the Hermit said mass, and the King heard it with great devotion, and communicated with great contrition, and remained in prayer for the space of two hours. And the hour for taking food came, and the Hermit took a loaf which was made of pannick and of rye, and gave half thereof to the King, and took for himself the other half: And they ate little of it, as men who could not eat more, the one by reason of age, and the other because he was not used to such fare. And thus they continued till the third day, when the holy Hermit departed this life.”

Ch. 239.—How the Hermit died, and the King found a writing in his hand.

“On the third day, the pious Hermit expired at the same hour which he had said to the King, whereat the King was full sorrowful, as one who took great consolation in the lessons which he gave. And when he had thus deceased, the King by himself, with his hands, and with an oaken stick which was there, made his grave. And when he was about to bury him, he found a writing in his hand; and he took it and opened it, and found that it contained these words.

Ch. 240.—Of the rule of life which the Hermit left written for King Don Rodrigo.

“O King, who through thy sins hast lost the great honour in which thou wert placed, take heed that thy soul also come not into the same judgement which hath fallen upon thy flesh. And receive into thy heart the instructions that I shall give thee now, and see that thou swerve not from them, nor abatest them a jot; for if thou observest them not, or departest in ought from them, thou wilt bring damnation upon thy soul; for all that thou shalt find in this writing is given thee for penance, and thou must learn with great contrition of repentance, and with humbleness of patience, to be content with that which God hath given thee to suffer in this world. And that thou mayest not be deceived in case any company should come unto thee, mark and observe this and pass in it thy life. Thou shalt arise two hours after midnight, and say thy matins within the hermitage. When the day breaks thou shalt go to the oratory, and kneeling upon the ground, say the whole hours by the breviary, and when thou hast finished them thou shalt say certain prayers of our Lord, which thou wilt find therein. And when thou hast done this, contemplate then upon the great power of our Lord, and upon his mercy, and also upon the most holy passion which he suffered for mankind upon the cross, being himself very God, and maker of all things; and how with great humility he chose to be incarnate in a poor virgin, and not to come as a king, but as a mediator among the nations. And contemplate also upon the poor life which he always led in this world, to give us an example; and that he will come at the day of judgement to judge the quick and the dead, and give to every one the meed which he hath deserved. Then shalt thou give sustenance to thy flesh of that bread of pannick and rye, which shall be brought to thee every Friday in the manner that I have said; and of other food thou shalt not eat, although it should be given or sent thee; neither shalt thou change thy bread. And when thou hast eaten give thanks to God, because he has let thee come to repentance; and then thou shalt go to the oratory, and there give praise to the Virgin our Lady holy Mary, mother of God, in such manner as shall come to thee in devotion. If when, thou hast finished, heaviness should come upon thee, thou mayest sleep, and when thou shalt have rested as long as is reasonable, return thou to thy oratory, and there remain, making thy prayers always upon thy knees, and for nothing which may befall thee depart thou from thence, till thou hast made an end of thy prayers, whether it rain or snow, or if a tempest should blow. And for as much as the flesh could sustain so many mundane pleasures, so must it suffer also celestial abstinences; two masses thou hast heard in this hermitage, and in it, it is God’s will that thou shalt hear no more, for more would not be to his service. And if thou observest these things, God will have compassion upon thy deserts. And when the King had read this, he laid it upon the altar, in a place where it would be well preserved.”

Ch. 241.—How the Devil came in the form of a Hermit to deceive the King Don Rodrigo.

“Now when the King had made a grave in which to bury the Hermit, the Devil was troubled at the good course which the King had taken, and he cast about for means how he might deceive him; and he found none so certain as to come to him in the figure of a hermit, and keep company with him, to turn him aside from those doctrines which the Hermit had given him, that he might not fulfil his penitence. And the King being in great haste to bury the body, the Devil came to him with a long white beard, and a great hood over the eyes, and some paternosters hanging from his girdle, and supporting himself upon a staff as though he were lame, and could not go. And when he came where the King was he humbled himself, and said unto him, Peace be with thee! And the King turned toward that side from which he came, and when he saw him of so great age, he thought that it was some holy man who knew of the death of the Hermit, and was come to bury him; and he humbled himself, and went towards him to kiss his hand, and the Devil would not, saying, It is not fitting that a King should kiss the hand of a poor servant of God. And the King was astonished at hearing himself named, and believed that this must needs be a man of holy life, and that he spake by some revelation; nevertheless he said, I am not a king, but a miserable sinner, for whom it had been better never to have been born, than that so much evil should have happened through me. And the false Hermit said to him, Think not that thou hast so much fault as thou imaginest in what has now been done, for even if thou hadst had no part in it, this destruction would have fallen at this time. And since it was ordained that it should be so, the fault is not thine; some fault thou hadst, but it was very little. And think not that I speak this of myself; for my words are those of a spirit made and created by the will of God, who speaks through me this and many other things, which hereafter thou shalt know, that thou mayest see how God has given me power that I should know all thy concerns, and counsel thee in what manner thou shouldst live. And albeit I have more need of rest than of labour, by reason of my age, which is far greater than my countenance shows, yet I have disposed myself to labour for the love of thee, to console thee in this thy persecution, knowing that this good man was about to die. Of a truth you may believe that on this day month I was in Rome, being there in the church of St. John de Lateran, out of which I had never gone for thirty years, till I came now to keep thee company according as I am commanded. Marvel not that a man of so great age and crippled as I am, should have been able to traverse so much land in so short time, for certes I tell thee that he who speaks in this form which thou seest, has given me strength to go through so great a journey; and sans doubt I feel myself as strong now as on the day when I set forth. And the King said to him, Friend of God, I rejoice much in thy coming, for that in my misfortunes I shall be by thee consoled and instructed in that which must be done to fulfil my penitence; I rejoice also that this holy Hermit here shall receive burial from the hands of a man much more righteous than I. And the false Hermit said, Think not, King, that it is for the service of God to give to any person a name not appertaining to him. And this I say because I well know the life of this person, what it was; and as thou knowest nothing of celestials, thou thinkest that as the tongue speaketh, even such is the heart. But I tell thee the habit doth not make the monk, and it is from such persons as these that the saying arose which is common in the world, I would have justice, but not for my own house. This I say to thee, because he commanded thee to perform a penance such as never man did, the which is, that thou shouldst eat only once a day, and that of such bread that even the shepherds’ dogs would not eat it; and of this that thou shouldst not eat as much as thou couldst; and appointed thee the term of a year that thou shouldst continue in this diet. Also he commanded thee that thou shouldst not hear mass during the time that thou abidest here, for that the two masses which thou hast heard should suffice; look now if that doctrine be good, which bids a man forget the holy sacrament! Certes I tell thee that only for that which he commanded thee to observe, his soul is consigned to a place where I would not that thine should go for all the world, if it were in my power, with all its riches. Nevertheless, to be rid of the ill smell which he would give, it is fit that you should bury him, and while you do this I will go for food. And the King said, Friend of God, do not take this trouble, but remain still, and before noon there will come food, which will suffice for you and for me; help me now to give burial to this good man, which will be much for the service of God, although he may have been a sinner. And the false Hermit answered, King, it would be less evil to roll him over these rocks into the sea; but if not, let him lie thus upon the earth till the birds and the beasts devour his flesh. And the King marvelled at this: nevertheless though he believed that this false Hermit was a servant of God, he left not for that to bury the good Hermit who there lay without life, and he began by himself to carry him to the grave which he had made. And as he was employed in burying him, he saw that the false Hermit went away over the mountains at a great rate, not as one who was a cripple, but like a stout man and a young; and he marvelled what this might mean.

Ch. 242.—How King Don Rodrigo informed himself concerning the penance which he was to perform, from the writing which the holy Hermit left him.

“When the King had finished burying the good servant of God, he went to the altar, and took the writing in his hand, and read it to inform himself well of it. And when he had read it, he saw that of a certainty all that was said therein was for the service of God, and was of good doctrine for his soul; and he said, that, according to the greatness of his sins, it behoved that his penitence must be severe, if he wished to save his soul. And then he called to mind the life which St. Mary Magdalen endured, for which God had mercy on her. And forthwith he went to his oratory, and began his prayers; and he remained there till it was near noon; and he knew that he had nothing to eat, and awaited till it should be brought him.

Ch. 243.—How the Devil brought meat to King Don Rodrigo that he should eat it; and he would only eat of the Hermit’s bread.

“After it was mid-day the false Hermit came with a basket upon his shoulders, and went straight to where the King was, and he came sweating and weary. And the King had compassion on him, howbeit he said nothing, neither did he leave his prayers. And the false Hermit said to him, King, make an end of thy prayers, for it is time to eat; and here I bring food. And the King lifted up his eyes and looked toward him, and he saw that there came into the hermitage a shepherd with a wallet upon his back, and he thought this must be he who brought him that which he was to eat. And so in truth it was, that that shepherd brought every Friday four loaves of pannick and rye for the holy Hermit, upon which he lived during the week. And as this shepherd knew not that the good man was dead, he did no more than put his bread upon the altar, and go his way. And the King, when he had ceased praying, rose up from the oratory, and went to the false Hermit. And he found the four loaves, and he took one, and brake it in the middle, and laid by the rest carefully, and he went out of the hermitage into the portal, where there was a table full small, and he laid a cloth upon it, and the bread which he was to eat, and the water; and he began to bless the table, and then seated himself. And the false Hermit noted well how he blest the table, and arose from where he was, and went to the King, and said, King take of this poor fare which I have brought, and which has been given me in alms. And he took out two loaves which were full white, and a roasted partridge, and a fowl, of which the legs were wanting; and he placed it upon the table. And when the King saw it, his eyes were filled with tears, for he could not but call to mind his great honour in former times, and how it was now fallen, and that his table had never before been served like this. And he said, addressing himself to the Lord, Praised be thy name, thou who canst make the high low, and the low nothing. And he turned to his bread and did eat thereof. And though he had great hunger, yet could he scarcely eat thereof, for he had never used it till in that hermitage, and now it seemed worse by reason of the white bread which that false Hermit had brought. And the false Hermit, who saw that he gave no regard neither to the bread, nor the meat which he had brought, said to the King, Why eatest thou not of this which God has sent thee? and the King said, I came not to this hermitage to serve God, but to do penance for my sins, that my soul may not be lost. And the penance which is given me in this life, I must observe for a year and not depart from it, lest it should prove to my great hurt. And the false Hermit said, How, King, hath it been given thee for penance, that thou shouldst let thyself die for despair? The Gospel commands not so; contrariwise it forbids man to do any such penance through which the body might be brought to death; for if in killing another, he who causes the death is held for a murderer, much more is he who killeth himself; and such thou wouldst be. And now through despair thou wouldst let thyself die of hunger, that thou mightest no longer live in this world, wherefore I say eat of this food that I have brought thee some little, that thou mayest not die. And with that he began to eat right heartily. And the King, when he beheld him, was seized with affection to do the like, howbeit he was withheld, and would eat nothing thereof. And as it was time when he would drink of the water, the false Hermit said to him, that he should drink of the wine; and the King would only taste of that water; and as he went to take of it, the false Hermit struggled with him, but he could not prevail, and the King did according to his rule, and departed not from it. And when he had eaten, he began to give thanks to God. And the false Hermit, who saw that he would have to cross himself at arising from the table, rose up before him, as one who was about to do something; and the King heeded it not. And when he had thus eaten, he went to the oratory, and began to give praises to the Virgin Mary, according as the good man had commanded him; when that traitor went to him and said, Certes this doctrine which thou holdest is no way to serve God, for sans doubt when the stomach is heated with food the will shall have no power to pray as it ought; and although the tongue may say the prayers, the heart confirms them not, being hindered by the force which nature derives from the food. Therefore I say to thee that thou oughtest to sleep first; for whilst thou art sleeping the food will settle, and the will will then be more able for contemplation. Moreover, God is not pleased with prayers without contrition, as with one who speaketh of one thing, and hath his heart placed on another, so that he can give no faith to the words which he beginneth. If thou wouldest be saved, O King, it behoves thee to listen to me; and if thou wilt not believe me, I will depart and leave thee, as one who will take no counsel, except from himself. And the King replied, if I should see that thou confirmedst the good manner of life whereof my soul hath need, according as it was appointed by the good man whom I have buried, then would I follow thy way. But I see that thy life is not that of a man of abstinence, nor of one who forsakes worldly enjoyments for the love of God; rather it seemeth by what I see in thee that thy life is a strengthening of worldly glory; for thou satisfiest thy flesh with good viands as I was wont to do, when I was puffed up with the vanities of the world. Wherefore I will in no wise follow thy way, for I see that thou art a worldly man, who deceivest God and the world, and when it comes to the end thou thyself wilt be deceived.

Ch. 244.—Of what the Devil said to King Don Rodrigo to dispart him from his penance.

“The false Hermit said to him, For what reason art thou certain that the rule which this deceiver whom thou hast buried appointed for thee, will be salvation for thy soul, and that what I say to thee is not of a truth? Thou understandest me not well: I never forbade thee that thou shouldst hear mass, as he has done; for this is one of the good things that man may every day see his Saviour and adore him. And seeing that he forbade thee to do this, thou mayest be certain that as he deceived his own soul, he would deceive thine also. For at the hour when man passeth away out of the world, he would fain that that same hour should be the end of all the world; and thus that enemy did, for where he went, thither he would draw thee also. Now since God hath given thee sense and reason, thou mayest clearly understand that his counsel and doctrine are deceitful, and what thou oughtest to do.

Ch. 245.—Of the Reply which the King made to the Devil.

“Sans doubt, said the King, he forbade me not that I should hear mass; but because he commanded me that I should fulfil my penance here for the term of a year, as he knew the hour of his own death, so also he knew that no other person who could say mass would come to this hermitage within the year; and, therefore, he said to me, that in this hermitage I should not hear mass, but he never forbade me from hearing it.

Ch. 246.—Of the Reasoning which the false Hermit made to King Don Rodrigo.

“The false Hermit said, Now thou thyself manifestest that he was not so worthy as a man ought to be who knows that which is to come. For according to thy words, he knew not that I should come here, who can say mass if I please; and if there be good judgement in thee, thou wilt understand that I must needs be nearer to God, because I know all which he had commanded thee to do, and also how he was to die. And I can know better in what place he is, than he who has commanded thee to observe this rule, knew concerning himself while he was here. But this I tell thee, that as I came to teach thee the way in which thou shouldst live, and thou wilt not follow my directions, I will return as I came. And now I marvel not at any thing which has befallen thee, for thou hast a right stubborn heart; hard and painful wilt thou find the way of thy salvation, and in vain wilt thou do all this, for it is a thing which profiteth nothing.

Ch. 247.—Of the Reply which King Don Rodrigo made to the false Hermit.

“Good man, said the King, all that thou shalt command me to do beyond the rule which the holy Hermit appointed me, that will I do; that in which my penance may be more severe, willingly will I do it. But in other manner I will not take thy counsel; and as thou hast talked enough of this, leave me, therefore, to my prayers. And then the King bent his knees, and began to go on with his rule. And the false Hermit when he saw this, departed, and returned not again for a month; and all that time the King maintained his penance, in the manner which had been appointed him. And by reason that he ate only of that black bread, and drank only water, his flesh fell away, and he became such that there was not a man in the world who would have known him. Thus he remained in the hermitage, thinking of no other thing than to implore the mercy of God that he would pardon him.

Ch. 248.—Of what the false Hermit said to King Don Rodrigo to dispart him from his rule.

“King Don Rodrigo living thus, one day, between midnight and dawn, the false Hermit came to the hermitage; and not in the same figure as before, but appearing more youthful, so that he would not be known. And he called at the door, and the King looked who it might be, and saw that he was habited like a servant of God, and he opened the door forthwith. And they saluted each other. And when they saw each other, the false Hermit greeted the King, and demanded of him where the father was; and the King answered, that for more than a month there had been no person dwelling there save himself. And the false Hermit, when he heard this, made semblance as if he were afflicted with exceeding grief, and said, How came this to be, for it is not yet six weeks since I came here and confessed my sins to the father who abode here, and then departed from this hermitage to my own, which is a league from hence? And King Don Rodrigo said, Friend, know that this Hermit is now in Paradise, as I believe, and I buried him with my own hands: and he showed him the place where he lay. And when he went there he began to kiss the earth of the grave, and to make great dole and lamentation over him. And when some half hour had past, he withdrew, making semblance as if he wished to say his hours. And before the King had finished to say his, he came to him, and said, Good man, will you say mass? And the King answered, that he never said it. Then, said the false Hermit, Hear me then in penitence, for I would confess. And the King seeing that it was for the service of God to hear him in penitence, they seated themselves both at the foot of the altar. And when the false Hermit spake, it appeared that he had no sin to confess: for he began to relate many great services which he had done to God, as well in the life which he led as in other things. And before the King could absolve him he rose up, and asked if things were ready for the mass. And the King said that he knew not, and bade him look. It was now time that he should go to his oratory. And the false Hermit asked him that he should assist him in saying mass, and then he should hear it. And the King said, that for nothing in the world would he leave to fulfil his penance, according as it had been appointed him: and he went to his oratory. And the false Hermit made as if he put on the vestments and all the ornaments, and began to say mass, to the end that he might deceive the King, and make him cease to observe his penance, and come to adore the mass. And he made a watery cloud arise, so that it rained heavily where the King was. And when he saw that he could in no ways entice him, then he went to him, and said, Good man, for that you may be placed out of danger in cases which at all times will happen, seeing that you are alone, I have consecrated the body of Jesus Christ, that you may adore it every day, since you may not hear mass; and thus you may fulfil your penance as a faithful Christian. And with that he dispeeded himself, saying, In the coffer upon the altar you will find the Corpus Christi: when you rise from hence go and adore it. When he had said this, he went his way. And the King believed that what he said was true, and held that he was a good man, and of holy life.”

Ch. 249.—How the Holy Ghost visited King Don Rodrigo.

“Now when the King had ended his prayers, which he used to say every day before he took his food, he saw a good man come towards him, clad in white garments, and with a fresh countenance and a cheerful, and a cross upon his breast. And as he arrived where the King was, he blest him; and when the King saw him he perceived that it was a revelation of God, and he joined his hands and placed himself on his knees upon the ground, weeping plentifully. And the holy man said, King, who art desirous of heavenly glory, continue the service which thou art performing for the love of my holy name; and take heed lest the enemy overcome thee, as he who many times hath overcome thee, whereby thou hast come to what thou now art. And believe none of all those who may come to thee here, for they come for no other cause but only to deceive thee, and withdraw thee from the service which thou dost me. And always observe the rule given thee by the holy man whom thou buriedst; for I am content with it, and thy soul shall receive refreshment if thou observest it. Come here, and I will show thee how the Devil thought to deceive thee, that thou mightest adore him. Then the King arose and went, alway upon his knees, following the Holy Spirit of God; and when he was within the hermitage, our Lord spake and said, Depart from hence, thou cursed one, and go thy way, for thou hast no power to deceive him who continues in my service. Get thee to the infernal pains which are suffered by those who are in the ninth torment! And at that hour the King plainly saw how from the ark, which was upon the altar, there went out a foul and filthy devil, with more than fifty tails and as many eyes, who, uttering great yells, departed from the place. And the King was greatly dismayed at the manner in which the false Hermit had deceived him. And the Holy Spirit of God said to him, King, let thy hope be in my name, and I will alway be with thee, so thou wilt not let thyself be vanquished by the enemy. Then the Holy Spirit of God departed, and the King remained full joyful and greatly comforted, as if he had been in celestial glory. And thus he continued his life for nearly two months.

Ch. 250.—How the Devil would have deceived King Don Rodrigo in the figure of Count Don Julian.

“The King was in his oratory one Sunday toward nightfall, just as the sun was setting, when he saw a man coming toward him, clad in such guise as is fitting for one who follows arms. And as he looked at him, he saw that it was the Count Don Julian who approached; and he saw that behind him there came a great power of armed people. And the false Count, when he drew nigh, made obeisance to him; and the King was amazed at seeing him, for he knew him well: nevertheless he remained still. And the false Count came to him, and would have kissed his hand, but the King would not give it, neither would he rise up from the oratory: and the false Count knelt upon the ground before him, and said, Sir, forasmuch as I am he who sinned against thee like a man who is a traitor to his Lord, and as I did it with great wrath and fury, which possessed my heart through the strength of the Devil, our Lord God hath had compassion upon me, and would not that I should be utterly lost, nor that Spain should be destroyed, nor that thou, sir, shouldst be put down from thy great honour and state, and the great lordship which thou hadst in Spain. And he has shown me, in a revelation, how thou wert here in this hermitage doing this great penance for thy sins. Wherefore I say to thee, that thou shouldst do justice upon me, and take vengeance according to thy will, as upon one who deserves it, for I acknowledge that thou wert my lord, and also the great treason into which I have fallen. Wherefore, sir, I pray and beseech thee by the one only God, that thou wilt take the power of Spain, which is there awaiting thee, and that thou wilt go forth to defend the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, and suffer not that poor Spain, should be utterly destroyed, seeing that thou canst defend it and protect it. And then Count Julian drew his sword, and gave it to the King, saying, Sir, take this my sword, and with thine own hand do justice upon me, and take such vengeance as thou pleasest; for I will suffer it with much patience, seeing I have sinned against thee. And the King was greatly troubled at his sight, and at his words also, and knew not what he should do, neither what he should say. Howbeit, presently he called to mind what the Holy Spirit of God had said to him, how he should take heed lest the Devil should subdue him; and so he said nothing, but continued in his prayer. And the false Count Don Julian said to him, Sir, wilt thou not turn for the Holy Faith of Jesus Christ, which is utterly going to destruction? rise up and defend it, for I bring thee a full great power; and thus thou wilt serve God and recover the honour which thou hadst lost. Rise then and go forth, and have pity upon miserable Spain, which is about to be lost; and have compassion also upon so many people as are perishing for want of a Lord who should defend them. Now all these words were only meant to deceive him, for it was the Devil who had taken the form of Count Don Julian, and not the Count himself. But the King could no longer restrain himself from replying, and he said, Go you, Count, and defend the land with this force which you have assembled, even as you went to destroy it by the great treason which you committed against me and against God. And even as you brought the men, who are enemies of God and of his Holy Faith, and led them into Spain, so now thrust them out and defend it; for I will neither slay you, nor assist you in it. Leave me to myself; I am no longer for the world, for here I will do penance for my sins. Urge me, therefore, no more with these reasons. And the false Count Don Julian rose, and went to the great company which he had brought there, and brought them all before the King. And the King, when he beheld that great company of knights, saw some among them whom he surely thought had been slain in battle. And they all said to him with loud voices, Sir, whom wilt thou send us, that we may take him for our King and Lord to protect and defend us, seeing that thou wilt not defend the land, neither go with us? Wouldst thou give us thy nephew the Infant Don Sancho? He is dead. What then wouldst thou command us that we should do? Look to it well, sir; it is no service of God that thou shouldst let perish so great a Christianity as is every day perishing, because thou art here dwelling in this solitude. Look to it, for God will require an account at thy hands: thou hadst the charge of defending them, and thou lettest them die. And tell us what course shall we take. And when the King heard these words he was moved to compassion: and the tears came into his eyes, so that he could not restrain them: and he was in such state that his thoughts failed him, and he was silent, and made no reply to any thing that they could say. And all these companies who saw him complained so much the more, and sent forth great cries, and made a great tumult, and uproar, and said, O miserable King, why wilt thou not rouse thyself for thy own sake, and for that of all thy people whom thou seest without a Lord; and thou wilt not even speak a word to comfort them, and tell them what they shall do. And all this while the King did nothing but weep, and answered them never a word. And when this vile race saw that they could not take him from thence, and that he answered them nothing, and that they could not overcome him by whatever they might do, they went forthwith from the mountain down into a plain, which was then made to appear before the King, and there they drew up their battles in such guise as the King Don Roderigo was used to darrain them. And eft-soon he saw great multitudes of strange people, who came from the other side, and they began a battle so fierce and so cruel, that the King thought he had never seen one like it. And the one party put the other to the worst, and followed after them in pursuit. And then there came messengers to the King, telling him that his people had conquered, and had slain many of the enemy; but the King was confounded, and as it were beside himself, and heeded not, neither did he know what they said, and he answered nothing. And then they all went away, and seemed to the King that the one were pursuing the others, and this continued till the first crowing of the cock. And the King recovered his senses: howbeit he knew not whether it was a vision, or if it had indeed happened; but he called to mind that he had not compleated the prayers which he made every day; and he began them again and finished them. And when he had finished, great part of the night was past, and he laid himself down to sleep. And then for three months he had no other temptation.”

Ch. 251.—How the Devil, in the Figure of La Cava, the Daughter of Count Don Julian, sought to deceive King Don Rodrigo.

“The King was saying his prayers at the hour of vespers on a Tuesday, when he saw people on horseback coming toward him: and as they were about the reach of a cross-bow from him, he saw that they alighted, and that there came toward him a woman, who was full nobly clad; and when she came near, he knew her that she was La Cava, the daughter of Count Don Julian, and she seemed to him more beautiful than he had ever before seen her in his life. And when she drew nigh she humbled herself, and said, Sir, what fortune has brought you to this wretched life in which you have so long continued? And the King held his peace and said nothing. And that false Cava said, Sir, it is a month since a holy man, clad in white garments, and having a red cross upon his breast, appeared to me when I was with my father Count Don Julian in Toledo; where he now holds the seat of the lordship of Spain, as he who, by force of arms, has subdued the Moors, and killed or made captives of them all. At the hour when this holy man appeared to me I was alone in my chamber, having great sorrow in my heart, because I had no certain news where you was, and whether your soul continued to live in this world, or in another. And, moreover, I was full sorrowful, because of the death of my Lady the Queen Eliaca, your wife, who is now deceased. And for these things my heart was full sorrowful, and in great trouble with griefs and thoughts, which came to me I know not from whence, and I was like one bereft of his judgment. And while I was contemplating in this state, the holy man appeared to me in such wise as I have said, and said to me, Of what art thou taking thought? Cease to lament, for without me thou canst do nothing certain of that which thou desirest. But that the dominion of Spain may not pass away from the power of the Goths, and that he who shall have it may descend from thy seed, and be of the generation of King Don Rodrigo, it is my will that thou shouldst know where he is, and that thou shouldst go to him, and that he should go in unto thee, and that thou shouldst conceive of him a son, and shalt call his name Felbersan, the which shall be such a one that he shall reduce under his forces all the earth which is below the firmament. Depart, therefore, from hence, and go to the place where he is, and make no tarriance: for thus it behoveth for the service of God, and for the weal and protection and defence of the land. And I said to him, Sir, how can this be which you tell me, seeing that King Don Rodrigo is dead; for his enemies slew him when they won the battle in which the great chivalry of Spain perished. And he said to me, Cava, think not he is dead, for he liveth, and passeth his life alone in a hermitage; of the which thy father Count Don Julian will certify thee, for he went to seek him there, and found him there when he overcame the Moors. He will tell thee that he is alive, and in what place is the hermitage wherein he abideth. And I said to him, But if King Don Rodrigo passeth his life after this manner in the service of God, he will not approach me that I may conceive of him this son who shall prove so good. And since it thus pleases you, give me a sign by which I may show him that this is pleasing to God, and that he may do this which you say, seeing so great good is to follow from it. And, moreover, he will be brought to such weakness that he will not be able to obey, by reason of the great abstinence to which his body has been subjected during his continuance there. And the holy man said to me, Care not for this, for God will give him strength; and thou shalt say to him for a sign that he may believe thee, how I told him that he should take heed lest the enemy deceive him, and how I bade the Devil depart from the altar where he was in the ark instead of the Corpus Christi, for that he should adore him. When thou tellest him this he will believe thee, and will understand that it is by the command of God. And when he had said these words he disappeared, so that I saw him no more; and I remained for a full hour, being greatly comforted, because I knew of your life, so that it seemed to me there were no other glory in this world. And when I came to myself, I went incontinently to my father Count Don Julian, and told him all that had befallen me with the holy man who came in that holy vision; and I asked him if he knew aught concerning you. And he told me how he had gone to you with all his chivalry to bid you come out from thence to defend your country, which the enemies had taken from you, and that you would not; but rather commended it to him that he should undertake it, and defend the land and govern it; and that it grieved him to think that you would not be alive, because of the great abstinence which you imposed every day upon your flesh: nevertheless, since it pleases our Lord that I should have a son by you, who should be so good a man that he should recover all Spain, he would have me go to this place, where I should find you if you were alive; and right content would he be that there should remain of you so great good. And I, sir King, seeing how it pleased God that this should be accomplished, according as I have said, am come here in secret, for neither man nor woman knoweth of this, save my father Count Don Julian; for I have told my people who came with me to remain yonder, because I would go and confess to a holy man who had made his abode here more than fifty years. Now, since God is the author of this, recover yourself, and remember the time when you told me that there was nothing in the world which you loved so much as me, nor which you desired so greatly as to obtain a promise of me; the which I could not give at that hour, by reason that the Queen was living, and I knew it to be great sin. And if I come to you now, it is by command of God, for it pleases him to send me here; and, also, because the Queen is no longer in this present life. And because you are so fallen away of your strength, let us go into the hermitage, or I will order a tent to be placed here, and let us sup together, that your heart may revive and you may fulfil the command of God.”

Ch. 252.—How the Devil would have deceived King Don Rodrigo, if the Holy Spirit had not visited and protected him.

“As the King heard all this his whole body began to tremble, and his soul within him also; and all sense and power past away from him, so that he was in a trance, and then it was revealed to him that he should take heed against that temptation. And the false Cava, who saw him thus entranced, made many burning torches of wax come there, by reason that it was cold, and because that the King should derive heat; also there was a pavilion pitched there, and a table set within it with many viands thereon, and all the people who came with her were seen to lodge themselves far away upon the mountain. And when he had recovered himself, he saw that the false Cava was drest in a close-fitting kirtle, which came half way below the knee, and she seemed to him the fairest woman that he had ever seen in his life, and it appeared to the King that she said to him, Here, sir, come and take your supper. And the King began again to tremble and lose his judgment, and fell into such a state that he knew not where he was, and it was revealed to him in that hour that he should guard against the temptation. And when he came to himself he saw that the pavilion was spread over his head; and seeing himself in that place, he looked for the oratory, and perceived that it was where it used to be; and within the pavilion he saw the false Cava, who was there with him, and that she was standing beside a bed, which was a full rich one, and that she began to take off her kirtle, and remained in her shift only, and with her long hair, which reached to her feet; and she said to him, See, sir, here in your power, that which you most desired, and which is now awaiting you. Rejoice, then, and take heart, and do that which God has appointed, and which will recover Spain, and recompense the losses, and sorrows, and wrongs which you have endured. And then she turned toward the King, for the Devil thought thus to tempt him, and make him break the penance which he had begun; and certes I ween there was no living man who would not right gladly have approached her. And then before him, in his sight, she began to comb and to plait her golden locks. And the King, seeing how beautiful she was, began to tremble all over, as if he had been struck with palsy; and he lost his judgment again, and became entranced, and remained thus a long while before he came again to himself. And it was revealed to him again that he should take heed how the Devil tempted him, and that he should have firm hope in God, and not break the penance which the holy Hermit had appointed him. But ever when he recovered from these trances, he forgot all which had been revealed to him while he was entranced; and now he found that there was a large estrado placed by him, and that La Cava was lying there beside him on some pillows, which were richly wrought in gold, undrest, as he had seen her, and that she said to him, Come, sir, for you tarry long, and it will soon be day-break. And the King seeing her so near him, then he was greatly troubled, yet could he not withdraw his eyes from her: but he called to mind how the Holy Spirit of God had bade him that he should always confide in his name, and place his true hope in the sign of the cross. And he clasped his hands, and lifted them towards Heaven, and weeping bitterly, and in great contrition, he said, O Lord and very God, Jesus Christ, deliver me from all temptation, and preserve my soul, that it fall not into perdition. And while he was praying thus, he saw how there came from the hermitage a great brightness, and he said, Deliver me, Lord, from the power of the Devil, that I may not be deceived, nor withdrawn from thy holy service. And at that hour he made the sign of the cross upon his forehead, and blest himself; and at that hour the false Cava fell down the rock into the sea, with such a sound as if the whole world were falling to pieces, and with the plunge which she made the sea dashed up so high, that where the oratory was the King was wetted with the spray. And he remained in such astonishment, that he could not for an hour recover himself. And when he came to himself he began to pray with great repentance, as if he had been on the point of falling into temptation. And the Holy Spirit of God came to him in that same manner in which he had seen it the former time. And he fell on his face upon the ground, and began to lament full bitterly, and to say, Lord, have mercy upon my soul, and forsake me not among mine enemies, who would withdraw me from thee. And the Holy Spirit said to him, O King, of little faith, how hast thou been on the point of perishing! And the King made no reply, for he did nothing but weep. And the Holy Spirit of God said to him, Take heed, King, lest the Devil deceive thee, and have power over thee, that thou shouldst not fulfil the penance which thou hast commenced, neither save thy soul. And the King lifted up his countenance, and had great shame to behold him. Howbeit he took courage, and said, Lord, have mercy upon me, and let me not be tempted by the enemy, for my heart is weak, and hath no power to defend itself against the false one: for my judgement is clean confounded, as one who hath no virtue if he be not aided by thy grace. Deliver me, Lord, for thy holy mercy and compassion: my salvation cannot come through the strength of my heart, for it is wholly full of fear, like a thing which is overcome. And the Holy Spirit of God said to him, Take courage and fear not, for thou shalt depart from this place sooner than thou thinkest. And when it is time I will guide thee to the place where thou shalt do thy penance, that thy soul may receive salvation. When thou shalt see a little white cloud appear above thee, and that there is no other in the sky, follow after it: and in the place where it shall stop shalt thou fulfil thy penance, according as the chief priest in that place shall appoint it thee. And take heart, and alway call to mind my holy name, and have true faith and constant hope in thy Saviour. And when he had said this he departed. And the King was greatly comforted and full of grace, as one with whom God was present in his mercy. And he abode in the hermitage a whole year, according to his reckoning, and twelve days more. And one day, when it was full clear, the King looked up and saw above him the cloud of which the Holy Spirit of God had told him; and when he saw it he was full joyful, and gave many thanks to God. Nevertheless the King did not rise from his prayers, neither did the cloud move from above him. And when he had finished his prayers he looked at the cloud and saw that it moved forward.”

Ch. 253.—How King Don Rodrigo departed from the Hermitage, and arrived where he was to do penance.

“The King arose from the oratory and followed the cloud; and so great was the pleasure which he had, that he cared not for food, neither remembered it, but went after that his holy guide. And at night he saw how the cloud, when the sun was about to set, turned to the right of the road toward the mountains; and it went on so far, that before night had closed it came to a hermitage, in which there was a good man for a Hermit, who was more than ninety years of age, and there it stopt. And the King perceived that he was to rest there, and the good man welcomed the King, and they spake together of many things. And the King was well contented with his speech, and saw that certes he was a servant of God. And all that day the King had not eaten, and he was barefoot, and his raiment tattered: and as he had not been used to travel a-foot, and with his feet bare, his feet were swollen with blisters. And when it was an hour after night, the Hermit gave him a loaf, full small, which was made of rye, and there were ashes kneaded with it, and the King ate it: and when he had eaten they said prayers. And when they had said their hours, they lay down to sleep. And when it was midnight they arose and said their hours: and when they had said them, the King went out of the hermitage, and saw that the cloud did not move: and then the King understood that he had to tarry here, or that he was to hear mass before he departed, and he asked the Hermit to hear his confession, and the Hermit confessed him. And when he had confessed, he said that he would communicate, and the good Hermit saw that it was good, and he put on his vestments and said mass; and the King heard the mass, and received the very body of our Lord Jesus Christ. And when the King had done this, he went out to look at the cloud. And as he went out of the hermitage he saw that the cloud began to move, and then he dispeeded himself from the Hermit, and they embraced each other weeping, and each entreated the other, that he would bear him in mind, and remember him in his prayers. And when the King had dispeeded himself, he followed after his holy guide, and the holy Hermit returned to his hermitage. And the King Don Rodrigo, notwithstanding his feet were swollen and full of blisters, and that in many places they were broken and bleeding, such and so great was the joy which he felt at going on in the course which he now held, that he endured it all as though he felt nothing. And he went, according as it seemed to him, full six leagues, and arrived at a convent of Black Monks, and there the cloud stopt, and would proceed no farther. And at that convent there was an Abbot who led an extraordinary good and holy life; and they were not there like other monks; and he was a great friend of God and of our Lady the Virgin St. Mary: and this Abbot took the King to his cell, and asked if he would eat as he was wont to do, or like the other monks, and the King said, that he would do as he should direct him. And the Abbot ordered that a loaf should be brought of pannick and maize mixed together, and a jar of water, and on the other side he had food placed such as the monks used; and the King would eat only of the pannick bread, as he had been wont to do, and he drank of the water. And when he had eaten, the Abbot asked him if he would remain that night or not, and the King said that he knew not, but that he would go out and see whether he were to go or to remain. And the Abbot said that it was the hour of vespers, and that he ought to remain; and the King went out and saw that the cloud moved, and that it behoved him to go, and he dispeeded himself from the Abbot, and they commended themselves each to the other in his prayers. And the Abbot saw plainly how that cloud had guided him, and how there was no other in the sky, and he marvelled greatly, and said, Certes this is some holy man, and he gave thanks to God. And the King went on that evening till he came to a church which was solitary and remote from peopled places: and there the cloud stopt, and he abode there that night. And the King went into the church, and found in it a lamp burning, and it rejoiced him much, for by the light of it he said his hours as well before he should sleep as after. And on the morrow when he had made his prayer, he went out of the church and beheld the cloud, and saw that it moved; and he went after it, and after two days’ journey he came to a place which where it is, or what it is called, is not said, save that it is the place of his burial, for such it is. And there the cloud stopt and proceeded no farther; and it rested without the town over an ancient hermitage. And the elder of that place incontinently knew by the Holy Spirit how King Don Rodrigo was come there: but he knew not his name, neither who he was; and he asked him if he meant to lead his life there, and he answered that it was to be as God should please. And the Elder said to him, Friend, I am the Elder of this place, for all the others, when they knew that King Don Rodrigo and his chivalry were slain and vanquished, fled from hence for fear of the Moors, and of the traitor Count Don Julian, and they all went to the mountains to escape. And I remained, putting my trust in our Lord God, and in his holy hands: for that I would rather abide that which may befall and take my adventure here, than utterly forsake our mother holy church; while I am able I will remain here and not forsake it, but rather receive my death. And therefore I say, that if you are to abide here you must provide yourself of that whereof you have need. And the King said, Friend of God, concerning my tarriance I cannot certify you; though surely I think that I shall abide; and if for the service of God you will be pleased to send me every day that I remain a loaf of pannick and water, I shall be contented therewith. And the Elder promised this, and departed forthwith and went to his home, and sent him a loaf of pannick and water. And the cloud remained there three days over that hermitage, and when the three days were at an end, it was seen no more. And the King, when he could no longer see it, understood that there he must perform his penance, and gave many thanks to God, and was full joyful thereat. And on the morrow the Elder came to see him, and they communed with each other in such manner, that the King confessed to him all the sins which he had committed during his whole life till that time, all which he called to mind with great contrition, weeping full bitterly and groaning for his errors and sins. And the Elder was greatly astonished, and said, That on the third day from thence he would appoint him his penance. And he went to his church and confessed, and addrest himself to prayer in such guise that he neither ate nor drank, nor raised himself from one place, weeping bitterly, and beseeching God that he would show him what penance he should appoint the King; for after no other manner did he think to appoint it, than such as his holy mercy and compassion should direct. And on the third day he heard a voice which said thus, Command King Don Rodrigo that he go to a fountain which is below his hermitage, and he shall find there a smooth stone; and bid him lift it up, and under it he shall find three little serpents, the one having two heads. And bid him take that which hath two heads, and carry it away, and place it in a jar, and nurse it secretly, so that no person in the world shall know thereof, save only he and thou; and let him keep it till it wax so great that it hath made three turns within the jar, and puts its head out; and when it is of that greatness, then let him take it out, and lay it in a tomb which is there, and lie down himself with it, naked; and close the tomb well, that the serpent may not be able to go out; and in this manner God is pleased that King Don Rodrigo should do penance.”

Ch. 254.—Of the Penance which was appointed King Don Rodrigo.

“The Elder when he heard the voice was greatly amazed at so rigorous a penance as this, and gave many thanks to God, and he went to King Don Rodrigo, and told him the manner how he had heard the voice; and the King was full joyful and content and pleased therewith, and gave many thanks to our Lord, for that he should now complete his penance and save his soul. And therewith in great joy, and shedding many tears for pleasure, he went to the fountain as he had been directed, and found the smooth stone. And when he had lifted it up, he found the three serpents according as the Elder had said, and he took that which had two heads, and he took it and put it in a great jar, such as would be a large wine vessel, and nurst it there till it was of such bigness as the voice had said. And when King Don Rodrigo saw that it was of this bigness he confessed to the Elder, weeping full bitterly, demanding favour of God that he would give him grace and strength with patience to fulfil that penance without any temptation or trouble of soul; to the end that, the penance being completed, it might please our Lord God to receive his soul into his glory. And before the fifth day after the serpent was thus big, the King and the Elder went to the tomb, and they cleansed it well within; and the King placed himself in it naked as he was born, and the serpent with him, and the Elder with a great lever laid the stone upon the top. And the King besought the Elder that he would pray to our Lord to give him grace that he might patiently endure that penance, and the Elder promised him, and thus the King remained in his tomb, and the serpent with him. And the Elder consoled him, saying to him many things to the end that he might not be dismayed, neither fall into despair, whereby he should lose the service of God. And all this was so secret that no man knew it, save only the King and the Elder. And when it was day-break the Elder went to the church and said mass, with many tears and with great devotion beseeching God that he would have mercy and compassion upon King Don Rodrigo, that with true devotion and repentance he might complete his penance in this manner, which was for his service. And when he had said mass, he went to the place where King Don Rodrigo lay, and asked him how he fared, and the King answered, Well, thanks to God, and better than he deserved, but that as yet he was just as when he went in. And the Elder strengthened him as much as he could, telling him that he should call to mind how he had been a sinner, and that he should give thanks to our Lord God, for that he had visited him in this world, and delivered him from many temptations, and had himself appointed for him this penance; the which he should suffer and take with patience, for soon he would be in heavenly glory. And the king said to him, that he well knew how according to his great sins he merited a stronger penance: but that he gave many thanks to our Lord Jesus, for that he himself had given him this penance, which he did receive and take with great patience; and he besought the Elder that he would continue to pray our Lord God that he would let him fulfil it. And the Elder said to him many good things concerning our Lord God. And the King lay there three days, during all which time the serpent would not seize on him. And when the third day, after that he had gone into the tomb, was completed, the serpent rose from his side, and crept upon his belly and his breast, and began with the one head to eat at his nature, and with the other straight toward his heart. And at this time the Elder came to the tomb, and asked him how he fared, and he said, Well, thanks to God, for now the serpent had begun to eat. And the Elder asked him at what place, and he answered at two, one right against the heart with which he had conceived all the ills that he had done, and the other at his nature, the which had been the cause of the great destruction of Spain. And the Elder said that God was with him, and exhorted him that he should be of good courage, for now all his persecutions both of the body and of the soul would have an end. And the King ceased not always to demand help of our Lord, and to entreat that of his holy mercy he would be pleased to forgive him. And the Elder went to his home, and would not seat himself to eat, but retired into his chamber, and weeping, prayed full devoutly to our Lord that he would give strength to the King that he might complete his penance. And the serpent, as he was dying for hunger, and moreover was large, had in one minute eaten the nature, and began to eat at the bowels; nevertheless he did not eat so fast, but that the King endured in that torment from an hour before night till it was past the middle of the day. And when the serpent broke through the web of the heart, he staid there and ate no further. And incontinently the King gave up his spirit to our Lord, who by his holy mercy took him into his glory. And at that hour when he expired all the bells of the place rang of themselves as if men had rung them. Then the Elder knew that the King was dead, and that his soul was saved.”

Thomas Newton in his “Notable History of the Saracens,” seems to imagine that this story is allegorical. “Nowe,” he says, “whereas it is reported, and written that he folowed a starre or a messenger of God, which conducted and guided him in his way; it may be so, and the same hath also happened to others; but it may as well also be understoode of a certaine secrete starre moving and directing his will.

“And whereas they say he was put by that holy man into a cave or hole, and a serpent with him that had two heads, which in two days’ space gnawed all the flesh off his body from the bones; this, beyng simplie taken and understanded, hath no likelihood of any truth. For what sanctity, what religion, or what pietie, commandeth to kill a penitent person, and one that seeketh comfort of hys afflicted mind by amendment of life, with such horrible torments and straunge punishment? Wherefore I woulde rather think it to be spoken mysticallye, and that the serpent with two heads signifieth his sinful and gylty conscience.”

A humble tomb was found.—XXV. p. 250.

How Carestes found the grave of King Don Rodrigo at Viseo in Portugal.

“I, Carestes, vassal of King Don Alfonso of Leon, son-in-law of the Knight of God, King Don Pelayo, when the said King Don Alfonso won Viseo from the Moors who held it, found a grave in a field, upon the which were written in Gothic letters, the words which you shall here read. This grave was in front of a little church, without the town of Viseo, and the superscription of the writing was thus:—

Of the writing which was upon the grave of King Don Rodrigo.

“Here lies King Don Rodrigo, the last of the Goths. Cursed be the wrath of the traitor Julian, for it was of long endurance, and cursed be his anger, for it was obdurate and evil, for he was mad with rage, and stomachful with pride, and puffed up with folly, and void of loyalty, and unmindful of the laws, and a despiser thereof; cruel in himself, a slayer of his lord, a destroyer of his country, a traitor to his countrymen; bitter is his name; and it is as grief and sorrow in the mouth of him who pronounces it; and it shall always be cursed by all that speak of him.”

That veracious chronicler Carestes then concludes his true history in these words:—“And by this which I found written upon this grave, I am of mind that King Don Rodrigo lies there, and because of the life which he led in his penitence, according as ye have heard, which also was in the same tomb written in a book of parchment, I believe without doubt that it is true, and because of the great penance which he did, that God was pleased to make it known in such manner as it past, for those who hereafter shall have to rule and govern, to the end that all men may see how soon pride is abased and humility exalted. This Chronicle is composed in memory of the noble King Don Rodrigo; that God pardon his sins, and that the son of the Virgin without stain, Jesus Christ, bring us to true repentance, who liveth and reigneth for ever and ever. Amen.

Thanks be to God!”

I believe the Archbishop Roderick of Toledo is the earliest writer who mentions this discovery. He died in 1247. The fact may very possibly have been true, for there seems to have been no intention of setting up a shrine connected with it. The Archbishop’s words are as follow:—

“Quid de Rege Roderico acciderit ignoratur; tamen corona, vestes et insignia et calciamenta auro et lapidibus adornata, et equus qui Orelia dicebatur, in loco tremulo juxta fluvium sine corpore sunt inventa. Quid autem de corpore fuerit factum penitus ignoratur, nisi quod modernis temporibus apud Viseum civitatem Portugalliæ inscriptus tumulus invenitur, Hic jacet Rodericus ultimus Rex Gothorum. Maledictus furor impius Juliani quia pertinax, et indignatio, quia dura; animosus indignatione, impetuosus furore, oblitus fidelitatis, immemor religionis, contemptor divinitatis, crudelis in se, homicida in dominum, hostis in domesticos, vastator in patriam, reus in omnes, memoria ejus in omni ore amarescet, et nomen ejus in æternum putrescet.”—Rod. Tol. f. 3. g. 19.

Lope de Vega has made this epitaph, with its accompanying reflections, into two stanzas of Latin rhymes, which occur in the midst of one of his long poems:—

Hoc jacet in sarcophago Rex ille

Penultimas Gothorum in Hispania,

Infelix Rodericus; viator sile,

Ne fortè pereat tota Lusitania;

Provocatus Cupidinis missile

Telo, tam magnâ affectus fuit insaniâ

Quam tota Hiberia vinculis astricta

Testatur mæsta, lachrimatur victa.

Execrabilem Comitem Julianum

Abhorreant omnes, nomine et remoto

Patrio, appellent Erostratum Hispanum,

Nec tantum nostri, sed in orbe toto:

Dum current cœli sidera, vesanum

Vociferant, testante Mauro et Gotho,

Cesset Florindæ nomen insuave,

Cava viator est, a Cava cave.

Jerusalen Conquistada, l. 6. ff. 137.