FILIAL LOVE BEFORE ALL.
Among the countless romantic chronicles of heroism which form the basisof the popular literature of Spain, there are none more multipliedor more interesting than those relating to the Cid Don Rodrigo. Hisvalorous services against the Moorish oppressors of his country werenever forgotten by its grateful people; and every campaign, every actof his life became the theme of a chronicle or a ballad. It is scarcelyremarkable that one so noted for his dauntless demeanour through lifeshould have been a good and dutiful son in his youth; nor that one ofhis most celebrated deeds was prompted by the dictates of filial duty.
His father, Don Diego Lainez, was one of the most valiant knights ofKing Fernando of Castille. The king valued the old man, and loved todistinguish him with his special favour; but when he chose him forthe governor of the young prince his son, he did it not so much tosecure him the wisest counsellor of his kingdom as to honour the oldman before his people.
Now at King Fernando's court there was a noble, the Conde Lozano,as valiant and celebrated as Don Diego, but far from possessinghis virtues.
Conde Lozano no sooner heard of Don Diego's elevation than his heartwas filled with rage and envy, which blinded his reason. Withoutstopping to consider the folly and wickedness of the action, hehastened to meet the venerable Don Diego, and loaded him withvituperation. Don Diego, with Christian moderation, strove toappease him.
Conde Lozano had a daughter who had all her life been the playmateof Don Diego's son Rodrigo. Nothing could be more devoted than thelove of the two children for each other; and their union had beenlong looked upon by both as only waiting their coming of due age forits celebration.
This consideration Don Diego at last resorted to, thinking thatthe Conde had only to be reminded of such a tie to staunch hisindignation. But it was far otherwise. "Indeed no," he replied withbitter irony, "now that his father has received such a distinguishedposition, the youth ought to have very different ideas. There isnothing to which he may not aspire now; and his flight shall certainlynot be cut short by being tied to my poor daughter."
"It is not his father's position that can make any difference in hisprospects," firmly responded Don Diego; "he must win his own claimto honour by defending his country against its invaders, as all hisancestors have done."
The Conde was in that state of unreasonable humour which takes offenceat every word.
"His ancestors, indeed!" he exclaimed. "Why do you remind me ofthem? Have they done more than I?"
"All Spain speaks of their valour."
"Then Spain unjustly lavishes on them praise due to me!"
"The king acknowledges it in the honour he has conferred on my person!"
"It is your old age, not your merit, that moved him; had he thoughtof merit, he would have given the office to me!"
"The best proof of where he considered merit to be, is seen by lookingwhere he conferred the reward!"
"You mean to say, that I have no merit!" cried the Count, now losingall command of himself; and before Don Diego could show him thatwas not what he had said, he dealt him a blow on the face, and atthe same time threw his sword on the ground, to show that it was apremeditated affront, and he had done it rather than afford him thesatisfaction of a fair fight.
It is hardly possible in these days to realize the full extent ofsuch an insult. In the semi-barbarous code which a life of continualwarfare kept up, nothing but the life-blood of the offender could wipeout such a stain. Rodrigo came in while his father was yet chafingunder the affront, which was not only regarded as personal, but as aninjury to his whole house and lineage. It needed only to tell youngRodrigo, to rouse his choler, for the blood of his ancestors flowedwarm within him, and young as he was, he knew that upon him devolvedthe duty of asserting the honour of his house. His father had no needto urge him. "You shall see, father, that I am not unworthy of theblood I inherit from you."
"But there is one thing I have to tell you; yet one thing, which islike to cool your courage more than the fear of essaying your firstarms against a tried warrior. Know that he who, with the five dartsof his right hand, struck through the grey beard of my old age,was none other than----"
"Tell me but his name, and I will smite him, whoever it maybe!" interposed the impetuous youth.
"He was none other than Ximena's father!"
The shock, so unexpected, was almost more than Rodrigo could bear. Themantling colour fled from his cheek. What were now to become of allthe hopes of his young life? Either he must suffer the affront toremain a stain on the honour of his house, or he must avenge it,and for ever give up Ximena. No! his father's honour was before anyother consideration. Whatever it might cost him, he must, must assertthat. And he hesitated no longer.
The Conde Lozano received him with all his superciliousness, askedhim what he wanted with him, called him a "plucky little boy," andbid him do what his "dad" had told him, "like a good child."
Rodrigo felt too deeply the force of his wrongs and sufferings to haveany heart to bandy words with him; he had come to demand satisfaction,and, by his knightly honour, the Conde could not refuse.
So they went out into the open, and drew their swords, leaving itto God to declare the right, for indeed, "the battle is not to thestrong;" and so the sword of the stripling prevailed that day, andthe bold, proud man fell vanquished at his feet.
The lifeless body of her father was brought in to Ximena. Helpless andfilled with horror, she hastened to the presence of the king, to demandjustice, little dreaming it was her Rodrigo she was denouncing. Theking, equally ignorant of Rodrigo's part in the matter, readilypromised it, and gave orders for the arrest of the offender. But inthe meantime Don Diego came in to denounce himself as the instigatorof the deed. In his own manly way, he detailed the provocation he hadreceived and the prowess of his son, and offered his own grey head inreparation, if the king judged that blood so shed called for justice.
The king refused to decide a matter of so great moment withouthis council, and put off considering the case till it should meet;meantime Diego was suffered to go at large, on parole that he wouldnot leave Burgos.
The knight immediately sought out his gallant boy, whom he foundtrying to make his peace with and console Ximena; but Ximena wouldnot be comforted. Only when he told her how miserable he was, sheconsented to listen to him; and then he reasoned with her, and askedher, Spaniard as he was, what could he have done otherwise? Had hepreferred his own love for her to his father's honour, would she havesmiled on him then? Would she not have spurned him with contempt? Shecould not deny that. She admired his filial love and bravery; buther loss was fresh upon her, and she could not bear to see the swordwhich had executed her father hanging by his side.
Then it was Don Diego came in; and the meeting between the agedsire, proud of his noble son, and the son who had preferred filialduty before every other consideration, was a touching one; but faterequired it should be brief. Don Diego was obliged to tear himself fromhis arms, and advise his leaving Burgos immediately; for, he said,"prudent and pious as you are, it is well you should not be taken;for when a man is taken and placed on trial, there is at least anidea of guilt passes upon him. It is better, my son, to avoid eventhis." And so he sent him to the wars and told him to come backconqueror of the Moors, and the brightness of his fame should thusdisperse the cloud which now hung over him.
Rodrigo was loth to part from Ximena without a sign of reconciliation;but his father urged his immediate departure, and his filial pietyagain prevailed. "I hear and obey," he meekly answered, and so hewent to fight the Moors.