CHAPTER XXIII.
Lighted not more by the torch at his feet than by the flames thatcrested the distant mountain, the Moorish boy struck the lute with askilful touch, whispered, rather than wailed, the little burthen thatkept alive the memory of the Alhambra, and then sang the followingRomance;--a ballad that evidently relates to the fate of MohammedAlmosstadir, king of Seville, dethroned by the famous Yussef ben Taxfin,Emir of Morocco. In the wars of the Moorish kings of Spain with AlfonsoVI. of Leon, about the year 1090, the Christian monarch prevailing, hisinfidel enemies invited Yussef to their assistance. The emir obeyed thecall; but having fought one or two battles with Alfonso, contentedhimself with turning his arms on his confederates, and dethroningthem,--Mohammed Almosstadir among the number. It is recorded, that hischivalrous enemy, the king Alfonso, moved by the distresses of Mohammed,sent an army of twenty thousand men to assist him against Yussef; but inthe obscurity of the historic legends of that day, nothing can bediscovered in relation to the devout condition of "kissing the cross,"nor, indeed, of the name or fate of the leader of the Spanish army. Weshould know nothing of the good Cid, but for the ballad, which wasdoubtless of very antique origin; though the simple burthen, _Me acuerdode ti, Granada_! commemorative of the fall of the Moorish city, musthave been added four hundred years after; perhaps by the singer fromwhom Jacinto had learned it.
ROMANCE OF CID RAMON.
I remember thee, Granada! Cid Ramon spurr'd his good steed fast, His thousand score were near; And from Sevilla's walls aghast, The watchmen fled with fear: For Afric's Emir lay around, The town was leaguer'd sore, And king Mohammed wept with shame To be a king no more. I remember thee, Granada!
The Emir's powers were round and nigh, Like locusts on the sward; And when Cid Ramon spurr'd his steed, They struck him fast and hard. "But," quoth the Cid, "a knight am I, With crucifix and spear; And for Mohammed ride I on, And for his daughter dear."-- I remember thee, Granada!
"Cheer up, dark king, and wail no more, Let tears no longer flow; Of Christian men a thousand score Have I to smite thy foe. The king Alfonso greets thee well: Kiss thou the cross, and pray; And ere thou say'st the Ave o'er, The Emir I will slay." I remember thee, Granada!
"Or let the African be slain, Or let the Emir slay, I will not kiss the cross of Christ, Nor to his Mother pray. A camel-driver will I live, With Yussef for my lord, Or ere I kiss the Christian's cross, To win the Christian's sword." I remember thee, Granada!
"Mohammed, now thou griev'st me much-- Alfonso is my king: But let Suleya kiss the cross, And let her wear the ring. The crucifix the bride shall bear, Her lord shall couch the spear; And still I'll smite thy foe for thee, And for thy daughter dear." I remember thee, Granada!
Then up Suleya rose, and spoke,-- "I love Cid Ramon well; But not to win his heart or sword, Will I my faith compel. With Yussef, cruel though he be, A bond-maid will I rove, Or ere I kiss the Christian's cross, To win the Christian's love." I remember thee, Granada!
"Suleya! now thou griev'st me much-- A thousand score have I; But, saving for a Christian's life, They dare not strike or die. Alfonso is my king, and thus Commands my king to me: But, for that Christian, _all_ shall strike, If my true love she be." I remember thee, Granada!
"Ill loves the love, who, ere he loves, Demands a sacrifice: Who serves myself, must serve my sire, And serve without a price. Let Yussef come with sword and spear, To fetter and to rend; I choose me yet a Moorish foe Before a Christian friend!"-- I remember thee, Granada!
"Ill loves the love, who pins his love Upon a point of creed; And balances in selfish doubt, At such a time of need. His heart is loosed, his hands untied, And he shall yet be free To wear the cross, and break the ring, Who will not die for me!" I remember thee, Granada!
The Emir's cry went up to heaven: Cid Ramon rode away-- "Ye may not fight, my thousand score, For Christian friend to-day.
But tell the king, I bide his hest, Albeit my heart be sore; Of all his troops, I give but _one_ To perish for the Moor." I remember thee, Granada!
The Emir's cry went up to heaven; His howling hosts came on; Down fell Sevilla's tottering walls,-- The thousand score were gone. And at the palace-gate, in blood, The Arab Emir raves; He sat upon Mohammed's throne, And look'd upon his slaves. I remember thee, Granada!
"The lives of all that faithful be, This good day, will I spare; But wo betide or kings or boors, That currish Christians are!"-- Up rode Cid Ramon bleeding fast; The princess wept to see;-- "No cross was kiss'd, no prayer was said, But still I die for thee!" I remember thee, Granada!
The Moorish maid she kiss'd the cross, She knelt upon her knee;-- "I kiss the cross, I say the prayer, Because thou diest for me. To buy thy thousand score of swords, I would not give my faith; But now I take the good cross up, To follow thee in death." I remember thee, Granada!
"Holy Maria! Come to us, And take us to the blest; In the true blood of love and faith, Receive us to thy rest!"-- The Emir struck in bitter wrath, Sharp fell the Arab blade; And Mary took the Cid to heaven, And bless'd the Christian maid. I remember thee, Granada!
"I like that ballad well," said De Morla, with a pensive sigh, when thesinger had finished, "and, to my thought, no handsome maiden, thoughsuch always makes the best ballad-singer, could have trolled it with amore tender and loving accent than Jacinto. 'The Moorish maid,'" hecontinued, humming the words in a sentimental manner,--
"The Moorish maid she kiss'd the cross, She knelt upon her knee.--
To my mind, it would read better, if we could say, 'The Mexican maid.'--
The Mexican maid she kiss'd the cross--
But, pho upon it! that spoils the metre.--Is it not thy opinion, senor,the princess Suleya would have shown more true love as well as wisdom,to have kissed the cross _before_ the Cid came to his death-gasp?"
"By my faith, I cannot doubt it," said Don Amador; "yet, consideringthat she avowed herself a proselyte, when the sword of that accursedEmir was suspended over her head, and so provoked and endured the deathof a martyr for Don Ramon's sake, it must be acknowledged she acted asbecame a loving and truly devout lady. But what I chiefly esteem inthis ditty, is the magnanimous art with which the Cid Ramon bothpreserved his faith to his king, and devoted himself to death for hismistress,--a reconciliation of duties which some might have consideredimpracticable, or, at least, highly objectionable."
"Amigo querido mio," cried De Morla, grasping the neophyte's hand, andspeaking with a voice half comical, half serious, "if thou livest ahundred years longer than myself, thou wilt hear some such mournfulmadrigal as this sung in memory of my foolish self; only that, in placeof a Moorish Infanta, thou wilt hear the name of a Mexican princess; andMinnapotzin will doubtless be immortalized along with De Morla."
"Minnapotzin!" exclaimed Don Amador, with a stare rendered visibleenough by the distant flashings of the volcano. "I swear to thee, mybrother, I understand not a word thou art saying!"
"To make the matter clear to thee then," said De Morla, with forcedgayety, "conceive me for a moment to be the Cid of whom we have beensinging; and imagine my Suleya to be wandering by the lake side in thefigure of a certain Minnapotzin, received to our holy faith under thename of Dona Benita,--a princess among these poor barbarians."
"Dost thou indeed love one of these strange maidens, then?--and is shebaptized in our holy faith?" demanded Don Amador, with much interest."If she be worthy of thee, Francisco, I pray heaven to make thee
happywith her."
"Now, may I die!" cried De Morla, grasping Don Amador's hand warmly, "ifI did not fear thou wouldst either censure or laugh at me,--or perhapsturn thy ridicule upon Benita,--a wrong I never could have forgiventhee. For I protest to thee, there is no such gentle and divine being inall the world beside. I make thee my confidant, hermano mio, because Ishall have much need of thy friendship and counsel; for though I comenot, like Cid Ramon, with 'a thousand score' to rescue her paganfather, sure am I, I cannot love the princess, and yet be blind to themiseries of the king."
"Assuredly," said Don Amador, "I will aid thee, and, for thy sake, boththe fair princess and her unconverted sire, wherever, in so doing, I maynot oppose my allegiance and religion."
"I will not claim any sacrifice," said De Morla, "unless so much as willrob thee of thy prejudices against this deluded people. In fact, Idesire thee more as a confidant, than as an abettor; for there isnothing to oppose my happiness, saving the present uncertainty of therelations betwixt ourselves and the Mexicans. Minnapotzin is aChristian;--I dare be sworn, the Cid was not better beloved thanmyself;--and Cortes hath himself promised to ask the consent of ourChristian king to the marriage, as soon as Montezuma has properlyconfirmed his vassalage. No, there is nothing to oppose me," continuedDe Morla, with a sudden sadness, "saving only this uncertainty I havespoken of,--and the darkness that hangs over my own destiny."
"I vow to thee, I am as much in the dark as before," said Don Amador.
"In good faith, my friend," said the young cavalier, with a faint smile,"it is promised me, I shall die very much like Don Ramon. Did I nevertell thee what Botello hath prophesied?"
"Not a jot," said the neophyte. "But I trust thou puttest no faith inthat worthy madman?"
"How can I help it?" said De Morla, seriously. "He has foretold nothingthat has not been accomplished, from the quarrel of Cortes with theAdelantado Velasquez, even to the fall of Zempoala."
"I have reflected on this prediction with regard to Zempoala, as well asall others whereof I have heard," said the neophyte, with a sagaciousnod, "and I have settled in mine own mind that there is nothing in thembeyond the operation of a certain cunning, mingled with a boldness whichwill hazard any thing in prognostic. Much credit is given to Botellofor having, as I am informed, predicted, even before the embarkation ofCortes, the rupture between him and his governor that afterwards ensued.Now, any man, acquainted with the unreasonable rashness and hot jealousyof the governor, might have foretold a quarrel; and I see not how itcould have been otherwise. So also, as I may say, I did myself, in amanner, foretell the disaster of Narvaez, as soon as I perceived hisfoolish negligence, in choosing rather to divert his soldiers withlegerdemain dances than to set them about his city as sentinels. Thevictory comes not to the indiscreet general."
"All this might have been conjectured, but not with so many surprisingparticulars," said the cavalier. "How could Botello have predicted,that, though Narvaez should sally out against us, no blow should bestruck by daylight?"
"Marry, I know not; unless upon a conviction that Cortes was too wise tomeet his enemy on the plain; and from a personal assurance, that therocks wherein the general had pitched his camp, were utterlyunassailable."
"How could he have guessed that flames should drive the Biscayan fromthe tower?"
"Did he guess that, indeed?" said the neophyte, staring. "He could nothave known that; for the brand was thrown by mine own rogue Lazaro, who,I know, was not his confederate."
"How could he have averred that Narvaez should lose his eye, and comeblindfold to his conqueror?"
"Is it very certain Botello foretold _that_?" demanded Don Amador, hisincredulity shaking.
"The senor Duero was present, as well as several other honourablecavaliers, and all confirm the story," said De Morla. "Nay, I could givethee a thousand instances of the marvellous truths he has spoken; and sowell is Cortes convinced of his singular faculty, that he will do nodeed of importance, without first consulting the magician."
"When my head is very cool," said Amador, musingly, "I find nodifficulty to persuade myself that the existence of the faculty ofsoothsaying is incredible, because subversive of many of the wiseprovisions of nature; yet I will not take upon me to contradict what Ido not know. And surely also, I may confess, I have heard of certainwonderful predictions made by astrologers, which are very difficult tobe explained, unless by admission of their powers."
"What Botello has said to me," said De Morla, with a hurried voice, "hasbeen in part fulfilled, though spoken in obscure figures. He told me,long since, that I should be reduced to bondage, 'at such time as Ishould behold a Christian cross hanging under a pagan crown.' This Iesteemed a matter for mirth; 'for how,' said I, 'shall I find a paganwearing a crucifix? and how shall I submit to be a captive among strangeand cruel idolaters, when I have the power to die fighting?' But I haveseen the cross on the bosom of one who wears the gold coronet of aking's daughter; and now I know that my heart is in slavery!"
Don Amador pondered over this annunciation; but while he deliberated,his friend continued,--
"When Botello told me this, he added other things,--not many butdark,--to wit, as I understood it, 'that I should perish miserably withmy enslaver,' and, what is still more remarkable, with an infidel priestto say the mass over my body! Senor, these things are uncomfortable tothink on; but I vow to heaven, if I am to die in the arms ofMinnapotzin, I shall perish full as happily as did Cid Ramon in theembraces of Suleya!"
De Morla concluded his singular story with a degree of excitement andwildness that greatly confounded Don Amador; and before the neophytecould summon up arguments enough to reply, a voice from the bottom ofthe pyramid was heard pronouncing certain words, in a tongue entirelyunknown to him, but among which he thought he recognised the name ofMinnapotzin. He was not mistaken. De Morla started, saying, hastily,--
"I am called, senor. This is the voice of one of the envoys ofMontezuma, with whom I have certain things to say concerning DonaBenita. I will return to thee in an instant." And so saying, hedescended the stairs of the mound, and was straightway out of sight.