« 前へ次へ »
THE LOVER'S ROCK.
The bitterness of wounded vanity
Shame-shame to man,
The ill report
Without the walls,
They rose, they spread, they raged ; The breath of God went forth; the ascending fire Beneath its influence bent, and all its flames Ja one long lightning-flash concentrating, Darted and blasted Hamuel,-him alone. Hack!-what a fearful scream the multitude Pour forth!-and yet more miracles! the stake Buds out, and spreads its light green leaves, and bowers The innocent Maid, and Roses bloom around, Now first beheld since Paradise was lost, And fill with Edeu odours all the air.
De la Pena de los Enamorados. Un moco Christiono estava cautivo en Granada, sus partes y diligencia eran tales, su buen término y cortesia, que su amo hazia mucha confiança dél dentro y fuera de su casa. Una bija suya al tanto se lo aficiona, y puso en él los ojos. Pero como quier que ella fuesse casadera, y el moco esclavo, no podian passar adelante como deseavan ; ca el amor mal sa puede encubrir, y temian si el padre della, y amo dél, lo sabia, pagarian con las cabeças. Acordaron de huir á tierra de Christianos, resolucion que al moço venia mejor, por bolver á los suyos, que á ella por desterrarse de su patria: siya no la movia el deseo de hazerse Christiana, lo que yo no creo. Tomaron su camino con todo secreto, hasta llegar al peñasco va dicho, en que la moça cansada se puso á reposar. En esto vieron assomnar á su padre con gente de acavallo, que venia en su seguimiento. Que podian hazer, ó á que parle bolverse ? que consejo tomar ? mentirosas las esperanças de les hombres y miserables sus intentos. Acudieron a lo que solo les quedava de encumbrar aquel penol, trepando por aquellos riscos, que era reparo assaz flaco. El padre con un semblante sanudo los mandó abaxar: amenaçavales sino obedecian de executar en ellos una muerte muy cruel. Los que acompanavan al padre los amonestaven lo mismo, pues solo les restava aquella esperança de alançar perdon de la misericordia de su padre, con hacer lo que les mandava, y ecbarseles á los pies. No quisieron venir en esto. Los Moros puestos a pie acometieron å subir el peiusco: pero el moco les defendió la subida con galgas, piedras y palos, y todo lo demas que le venia a la mano, y le servia de armas en aquella desesperacion. El padre visto esto, hizo venir de un pueblo alli cerca vallesteros para que de leros los flechassen. Ellos vista su perdicion, acordaron con su muerte librarse de los denuestos y tormentos mayores que temian. Las palabras que en este trance se dixeron, no ay para que relatarlas. Finalmente abraçados entre si fuertemente, se echaron del peủol abaxo, por aquella parte en que los mirava su cruel y sañudo padre. Deste manera espiraron antes de llegar á lo baxo, con lastima de los presentes, y aun con lagriinas de algunos que se movian con aquel triste espectaculo de aquellos moços desgraciados, y a pesar del padre, como estavan, los enterraron en aquel mismo lugar. Constancia que se empleara mejor en otra bazana, y les fuera bien contada la muerte, si la padecieron por la virtad y en defensa de la verdadera religion, y 20 por satisfacer á sus apetitos desenfrenados.-Marnasa.
Tue Maiden through the favouring night
No Moorish maid might hope to vie With Laila's cheek or Laila's eye, No maiden love with purer truth, Or ever loved a lovelier youth.
In fear they fled across the plain,
And now they reach the mountain's height,
But while she slept, the passing gale Waved the maiden's flowing veil, Iler father, as he crost the height, Saw the veil so long and white,
They saw him raise his angry band,
There was never a foe in the infidel band Who against his dreadful sword could stand; And yet Count Garci's strong right hand
Was shapely, and soft, and white;
Then Manuel's heart grew wild with woe,
The ascent was steep, the rock was bigli,
The Moorish chief uomoved could see
In an evil day and an hour of woe
In an evil day and a luckless night
That Jady false, his bale and bane.
She sate ber in lonely tower alone,
Methinks,» said she, « my father for me
A stepmother he brings hither instead,
And Argentine with evil intent
And in that melancholy gloom,
She wish'd her father too in the tomb.
He bade the archers bend the bow, And make the Christian fall below; He bade the archers aim the dart, And pierce the Maid's apostate heart.
The archers aim'd their arrows there, She clasp'd young Manuel in despair, « Death, Manuel, shall set us free! Then leap below and die with me.»
He clasp'd her close and cried farewell,
And side by side they there are laid, The Christian youth and Moorish maid, But never Cross was planted there, Because they perishd for despair.
Yet every Murcian maid can tell Where Laila lies who loved so well, And every youth who passes there Says for Manuel's soul a prayer.
She watches the pilgrims and poor who wait
For daily food at her father's gate. « I would some knight were there,» thought she,
« Disguised in pilgrim-weeds for me! For Aymerique's blessing I would not stay, Nor be nor his leman should say me nay,
But I with him would wend away.” She watches her handmaid the pittance deal,
They took their dole and went away;
But yonder is one who lingers still
And close to the portal she sees him go, He talks with her handmaid in accents low;
Oh then she thought that time went slow, And long were the minutes that she must wait Till her handmaid came from the castle-gate.
This story, which later bistorians have taken some pains to disprove, may be found in the Coronica General de Espaua.
Did Garci Ferrandez wed!
He loved the Lady Argentine,
In an evil day and an hour of woe
To go to Count Aymerique's bed.
From the castle-gate her handmaid came,
And told her that a Knight was there, Who sought to speak with Abba the fair, Count Aymerique's beautiful daughter and heir.
She bade the stranger to ber bower ;
At tilt or lourney hope to see ;
Yet noble in his weeds was he,
Garci Ferrandez was brave and young,
The comeliest of the land; There was never a knight of Leon in fight Who could meet the force of his matchless might,
lle told his name to the damsel fair, He said that vengeance led him there ;
« Now aid me, lady dear, » quoth he,
And I will take you for my pride.»
She took the hand that Garci gave,
For she saw the warrior's hand so white, And she knew the fame of the beautiful Knight.
How they from Garci fled away
In the silent hour of night; And then amid their wanton play They mock'd the beautiful Knight.
Far, far away his castle lay,
The weary road of many a day; « And travel long,” they said, « to him,
It seem'd, was small delight, And he belike was loth with blood
To stain his hands so white.» They little thought that Garci then
Heard every scornful word! They little thought the avenging hand
Was on the avenging sword!
Fearless, unpenitent, unblest, Without a prayer they sunk to rest, The adulterer on the leman's breast.
And the Sexts are begun;
They look to their pages, and lo they see
And first to her father minister'd she; Count Aymerique look'd on his daughter down,
He look'd on her then without a frown.
Then Abba, listening still in fear,
One blow sufficed for Aymerique,-
The bloody falchion shine!
In an evil day and an hour of woe
Did Garci Ferrandez wed! One wicked wife has lie sent to her grave, He hath taken a worse to his bed.
And next to the Lady Argentine
Humbly she went and knelt;
A haughly wonder felt;
The Lady Abba kneel to me
« Is she weary of her solitude,
Abba no angry word replied,
« Let not the Lady Argentine
My father will not frown, I ween,
The daughter she was wont to be.
The story of the following Ballad is found in the Nobiliario of the Conde D. Pedro; and also in the Livro Velho das Linhagens, a work of the 13th century.
The wine hath warm'd Count Aymerique,
That mood his crafty daughter knew; She came and kiss d her father's cheek, And stroked his beard with gentle hand, And winning eye and action bland,
As she in childhood used to do. « A boon! Count Aymerique,» quoth she;
« If I have found favour in thy sight, Let me sleep at my father's feet to-night. Grant this,» quoth she, «so I shall see
That you will let your Abba be
Her voice was soft and sweet;
She lay at her father's feet.
GREEN grew the alder-trees, and close To the water-side by St Joam da Foz. From the castle of Gaya the warden sees
The water and the alder-trees;
No danger near doth Gaya fear,
Under the alders silently.
In traveller's weeds Ramiro sate
By the fountain at the castle-gate;
And be known so well by his knights.
To fill her pitcher at the spring,
In the Moorish tongue Ramiro spake,
In Aymeriquc's arms the leman lay, Their talk was of the distant day,
And begg'd a draught for mercy's sake,
For worn by a long malady,
To lift it from the spring.
So in the water from the spring
Queen Aldonza found the token.
Secretly the stranger in. « What brings thee hither, Ramiro?» she cried :
« The love of you,» the king replied.
« Ramiro, say not this to me!
I know your Moorish coneubine
If you had loved me as you say,
If you ha never loved another,
The wife of Ortiga's brother!
King Alboazar draweth near.»
Let me be led to your bull-ring,
And call your sons and daughters all,
And let me be set upon a stone,
And bid me then this horn to blow,
And I will blow a blast so strong,
And wind the horn so loud and long
And I my precious soul shall save;
King Alboazar, this I would do,
« This man repents his sin, be sure !»
To Queen Aldonza said the Moor, « He hath stolen my sister away from me,
I have taken from him his wife;
And I his true repentance see,
la her alcove she bade him hide : « King Alboazar, my lord,» she cried, « \Vhat wouldst thou do, if at this hour
King Ramiro were in thy power?» «This I would do,» the Moor replied, « I would hew him limb from limb, As he, I know, would deal by me,
So I would deal by him.»
alcove thou hast thy foe,
With that upspake the Christian king:
«0! Alboazar deal by me
If I were you, and you were me!
Like a foe I stole your sister away; The sin was great, and I felt its weight,
All joy by day the thought opprest, And all night long it troubled my rest; Till I could not bear the burthen of care,
But told my confessor in despair.
And he, my sinful soul to save,
That I before you should appear
If my repentance was sincere,
That I might by a public death Breathe shamefully out my latest breath.
« O Alboazar!» then quoth she,
Full of revenge and wiles is he;
I know Ramiro better than thou!
He must die, be sure, or thou.
Hast thou not heard the history
And plunder'd thy country for many a day;
And how many more he has carried away?
him? How he ravish'd thy sister, and wouldst thou forgive
And that now by thy side I lie like a bride,
And cruel it were when you see his despair,
If vainly you thought in compassion to spare, And refused him the boon be comes hither lo crave;
For no other way his poor soul can be save,
« King Alboazar, this I would do,
If you were I, and I were you;
Which you came to me petitioning.
As Queen Aldonza thus replies,
The Moor upon her fixed his cyes,
Who pulteth his trust in a woman!
Thou art King Ramiro's wedded wife, And thus wouldst thou take away his life!
What cause have I to coufide in thee?
I will put this woman away from me. These were the thoughts that past in his breast,
But he call'd to mind Ramiro's might: And he fear'd to meet him hereafter in fight,
And he granted the king's request.
The Abbot of Aberbrothok
So he gave him a roasted capon first,
And he calld for his sons and daughters all,
And to the bull-ring he led the king;
And he set him there upon a stone,
As long as his breath and his life should last.
When the Rock was hid by the surge's swell,
The sun in heaven was shining gay,
Oh then his horn Ramiro wound:
Louder and louder Ramiro blows,
Under the alders, by St Joam da Foz.
Away to Gaya they speed them straight;
And slaughter their infidel foes.
The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen
Then his good sword Ramiro drew,
Upon the Moorish king he flew,
Every Moorish soul they slew;
Not one escaped of the infidel crew;
And they left not one stone upon another.
His eye was on the Inchcape Float;
They carried the wicked Queen aboard,
They tied a mill-slone round her neck,
Put glad would Queen Aldonza be,
Down sunk the Bell with a gurgling sound,
Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away,
THE INCHCAPE ROCK.
So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.
« Capst hear,” said one, «the breakers roar! teous jadgement of God..-STODDARI's Remarks on Scotland.
For metlinks we should be near the shore.»
Now, where we are I cannot tell,
But I wish we could hear the Inchcape Bell.»
They hear po sound, the swell is strong;
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along, Her keel was steady in the ocean.
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock, – Without either sign or sound of their shock
« Oh Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!»
Sir Ralph the Rover tore his bair;
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,