Shall shrivel like a scroll and be consumed,
The universal wreck had been to me
Relief and comfort; . . . even then this Moor
Turn'd on me his libidinous eyes, and bade
His men reserve me safely for an hour

Of dalliance,.. me!.. me in my agonies!
But when I found for what this miscreant child
Of Hell had snatch'd me from the butchery,
The very horror of that monstrous thought
Saved me from madness; I was calm at once, .
Yet comforted and reconciled to life:
Hatred became to me the life of life,
Its purpose and its power.

The glutted Moors
At length broke up. This hell-dog turn'd aside
Toward his home; we travell'd fast and far,
Till by a forest edge at eve he pitched
His tents. I wash'd and ate at his command,
Forcing revolted nature; I composed

My garments and bound up my scatter'd hair;
And when he took my hand, and to his couch
Would fain have drawn me, gently I retired
From that abominable touch, and said,
Forbear to-night I pray thee, for this day
A widow, as thou seest me, am I made;
Therefore, according to our law, must watch

And pray to-night. The loathsome villain paused
Ere he assented, then laid down to rest;
While at the door of the pavilion, I

Knelt on the ground, and bowed my face to earth;
But when the neighbouring tents had ceased their stir,
The fires were out, and all were fast asleep,
Then I arose. The blessed Moon from Heaven
Lent me her holy light. I did not pray
For strength, for strength was given me as I drew
The scymitar, and standing o'er his couch,
Raised it in both my hands with steady aim
And smote his neck. Upward, as from a spring
When newly open'd by the husbandman,
The villain's life-blood spouted. Twice I struck,
So making vengeance sure; then, praising God,
Retired amid the wood, and measured back
My patient way to Auria, to perform
This duty which thou seest.

As thus she spake,
Roderick intently listening had forgot
His crown, his kingdom, his calamities,
His crimes,.. so like a spell upon the Goth
Her powerful words prevail'd. With open lips,
And eager ear, and eyes which, while they watch'd
Her features, caught the spirit that she breathed,
Mute and enrapt he stood, and motionless;
The vision rose before him; and that shout,
Which, like a thunder-peal, victorious Spain
Sent through the welkin, rung within his soul
Its deep prophetic echoes. On his brow
The pride and power of former majesty
Dawn'd once again, but changed and purified:
Duty and high heroic purposes
Now hallow'd it, and as with inward light
Illumed his meagre countenance austere.

Awhile in silence Adosinda stood, Reading his alter'd visage and the thoughts Which thus transfigured him. Ay, she exclaim'd, My tale hath moved thee! it might move the dead,

Quicken captivity's dead soul, and rouse
This prostrate country from her mortal trance:
Therefore I live to tell it; and for this
Hath the Lord God Almighty given to me
A spirit not mine own and strength from Heaven;
Dealing with me as in the days of old
With that Bethulian Matron when she saved
His people from the spoiler. What remains
But that the life which he hath thus preserved
I consecrate to him? Not veil'd and vow'd
To pass my days in holiness and peace;
Nor yet between sepulchral walls immured,
Alive to penitence alone; my rule

He hath himself prescribed, and hath infused
A passion in this woman's breast, wherein
All passions and all virtues are combined;
Love, hatred, joy, and anguish, and despair,
And hope, and natural piety, and faith,
Make up the mighty feeling. Call it not
Revenge! thus sanctified and thus sublimed,
'Tis duty, 'tis devotion. Like the grace
Of God, it came and saved me; and in it
Spain must have her salvation. In thy hands
Here, on the grave of all my family,

I make my vow.

She said, and kneeling down,
Placed within Roderick's palms her folded hands.
This life, she cried, I dedicate to God,
Therewith to do him service in the way
Which he hath shown. To rouse the land against
This impious, this intolerable yoke,..

To offer up the invader's hateful blood,..
This shall be my employ, my rule and rite,
Observances and sacrifice of faith;

For this I hold the life which he hath given,
A sacred trust; for this, when it shall suit
His service, joyfully will lay it down.
So deal with me as I fulfil the pledge,
O Lord my God, my Saviour and my Judge.

Then rising from the earth, she spread her arms, And looking round with sweeping eyes exclaim'd, Auria, and Spain, and Heaven receive the vow!

IV.

THE MONASTERY OF ST. FELIX.

THUS long had Roderick heard her powerful words
In silence, awed before her: but his heart
Was fill'd the while with swelling sympathy,
And now with impulse not to be restrain'd
The feeling overpower'd him. Hear me too,
Auria, and Spain, and Heaven! he cried; and thou
Who risest thus above mortality,

Sufferer and patriot, saint and heroine,
The servant and the chosen of the Lord,
For surely such thou art,.. receive in me
The first-fruits of thy calling. Kneeling then,
And placing as he spake his hand in her's,
As thou hast sworn, the royal Goth pursued,
Even so I swear; my soul hath found at length
Her rest and refuge; in the invader's blood
She must efface her stains of mortal sin,

And in redeeming this lost land, work out
Redemption for herself. Herein I place
My penance for the past, my hope to come,
My faith and my good works; here offer up
All thoughts and passions of mine inmost heart,
My days and night,.. this flesh, this blood, this life,
Yea this whole being, do I here devote

For Spain.

Receive the vow, all Saints in Heaven, And prosper its good end!... Clap now your wings, The Goth with louder utterance as he rose Exclaim'd, . . . clap now your wings exultingly, Ye ravenous fowl of Heaven; and in your dens Set up, ye wolves of Spain, a yell of joy; For, lo a nation hath this day been sworn To furnish forth your banquet; for a strife Hath been commenced, the which from this day forth Permits no breathing-time, and knows no end Till in this land the last invader bow His neck beneath the exterminating sword.

Said I not rightly? Adosinda cried;
The will which goads me on is not mine own,
'Tis from on high,.. yea, verily of Heaven!
But who art thou who hast profess'd with me,
My first sworn brother in the appointed rule?
Tell me thy name.

Ask any thing but that!

The fallen King replied. My name was lost
When from the Goths the sceptre pass'd away.
The nation will arise regenerate;
Strong in her second youth and beautiful,
And like a spirit which hath shaken off
The clog of dull mortality, shall Spain
Arise in glory. But for my good name
No resurrection is appointed here.

Let it be blotted out on earth in Heaven
There shall be written with it penitence,

And grace, and saving faith, and such good deeds
Wrought in atonement, as my soul this day
Hath sworn to offer up.

Then be thy name,
She answer'd, Maccabee, from this day forth:
For this day art thou born again; and like
Those brethren of old times, whose holy names.
Live in the memory of all noble hearts
For love and admiration, ever young,..
So for our native country, for her hearths
And altars, for her cradles and her graves,
Hast thou thyself devoted. Let us now

Each to our work. Among the neighbouring hills,
I to the vassals of my father's house;
Thou to Visonia. Tell the Abbot there
What thou hast seen at Auria; and with him
Take counsel who of all our Baronage
Is worthiest to lead on the sons of Spain,
And wear upon his brow the Spanish crown.
Now, brother, fare thee well! we part in hope,
And we shall meet again, be sure, in joy.

So saying, Adosinda left the King Alone amid the ruins. There he stood, As when Elisha, on the farther bank Of Jordan, saw that elder prophet mount

1 of this saint, and the curious institutions which he formed, and the beautiful tract of country in which they were

Gazing he stood,

The fiery chariot, and the steeds of fire,
Trampling the whirlwind, bear him up the sky :
Thus gazing after her did Rokerick stand;
And as the immortal Tishbite left behind
His mantle and prophetic power, even so
Had her inspiring presence left infused
The spirit which she breathed.
As at a heavenly visitation there
Vouchsafed in mercy to himself and Spain;
And when the heroic mourner from his sight
Had pass'd away, still reverential awe
Held him suspended there and motionless.
Then turning from the ghastly scene of death
Up murmuring Lona, he began toward
The holy Bierzo his obedient way.

Sil's ample stream he crost, where through the vale
Of Orras, from that sacred land it bears
The whole collected waters; northward then,
Skirting the heights of Aguiar, he reach'd
That consecrated pile amid the wild,
Which sainted Fructuoso in his zeal
Rear'd to St. Felix', on Visonia's banks.

In commune with a priest of age mature,
Whose thoughtful visage and majestic mien
Bespake authority and weight of care,
Odoar, the venerable Abbot, sate,

When ushering Roderick in, the Porter said,
A stranger came from Auria, and required
His private ear. From Auria? said the old man,
Comest thou from Auria, brother? I can spare
Thy painful errand then,.. we know the worst.

Nay, answer'd Roderick, but thou hast not heard My tale. Where that devoted city lies

In ashes, mid the ruins and the dead

I found a woman, whom the Moors had borne
Captive away; but she, by Heaven inspired

And her good heart, with her own arm had wrought
Her own deliverance, smiting in his tent
A lustful Moorish miscreant, as of yore
By Judith's holy deed the Assyrian fell.
And that same spirit which had strengthen'd her
Work'd in her still. Four walls with patient toil
She rear'd, wherein, as in a sepulchre,
With her own hands she laid her murder'd babe,
Her husband and her parents, side by side;
And when we cover'd in this shapeless tomb,
There on the grave of all her family,
Did this courageous mourner dedicate
All thoughts and actions of her future life
To her poor country. For she said, that Heaven
Supporting her, in mercy had vouchsafed
A foretaste of revenge; that, like the grace
Of God, revenge had saved her; that in it
Spain must have her salvation; and henceforth
That passion, thus sublimed and sanctified,
Must be to all the loyal sons of Spain

The pole-star of their faith, their rule and rite,
Observances and worthiest sacrifice.

I took the vow, unworthy as I am,

Her first sworn follower in the appointed rule;
And then we parted; she among the hills

placed, I have given an account in the third edition of Letters from Spain and Portugal, vol. i. P. 103.

Trusteth not all alike: At his own Court
He holds Pelayo, as suspecting most
That calm and manly spirit; Pedro's son
There too is held as hostage, and secures
His father's faith; Count Eudon is despised,
And so lives unmolested. When he pays
His tribute, an uncomfortable thought

May then perhaps disturb him: . . or more like
He meditates how profitable 'twere
To be a Moor; and if apostacy

Were all, and to be unbaptized might serve,..
But I waste breath upon a wretch like this;

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,

1. 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 circum. stances, 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

Pelayo is the only hope of Spain, Only Pelayo.

If, as we believe,

Said Urban then, the hand of Heaven is here,
And dreadful though they be, yet for wise end
Of good, these visitations do its work;
And dimly as our mortal sight may scan
The future, yet methinks my soul descries
How in Pelayo should the purposes

Of Heaven be best accomplish'd. All too long,
Here in their own inheritance, the sons
Of Spain have groan'd beneath a foreign yoke.1

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. morias de Braga, t. iii. p. 120.

Me

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.

There had been a law to prohibit intermarriages between the Goths and Romans; this law Recesuintho annulled*, 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, iii. 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 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,

men.

"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

Fuero Juzgo, 1. iii. tit. 1. leg. 1.