Constance De Castile :: :: University of Virginia Library

While in mute awe the warriors hung,
Deep anguish burst from Pedro's tongue.
“The day when Bourbon's spirit fled,
“Before my train I joyful sped
“Maria's honour'd brow to crown,
“And hail her Queen on Castile's throne.

“As mid Sidonia's wood my way
“Through a dark glen's deep covert lay,
“A form, surpassing human height,
“Terrific, tow'r'd before my sight,

“It was said that Pedro caused Queen Blanche to be poisoned in prison. And there is a report, that the King, when hunting near Medina Sidonia, was there met by a shepherd of a terrible aspect, threatening him.” Mariana, Hist. of Spain, p. 279.

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“And loud and awful as the roar
“Of ocean bursting on the shore,
“‘Murderer!’—exclaim'd—‘in mercy sent,
“‘I warn of woe to come—repent!—
“‘Deem not, like shadows of the night
“‘I pass, and vanish from the sight:
“‘The belt that hapless Bourbon wove,
“‘Present and pledge of nuptial love,
“‘Shall, yearly, on the fatal day,
“‘What time her spirit past away,
“‘Harass thy soul with sights unholy,
“‘And fill with wild'ring melancholy.
“‘Lo! at my touch, 'tis stain'd with gore:
“‘No pow'r its lustre shall restore,
“‘Nor art, nor force of mortal hand
“‘Unclasp th' inextricable band,
“‘Till deep remorse mourn Bourbon slain,
“‘And contrite tears efface the stain!’
“The Phantom vanish'd from my view.
“Urg'd by strange terror, on I flew.
“Then—at that hour—th' internal flame
“Prey'd on Maria's sinking frame,
“Her brow was bath'd in icy dew.
“As o'er her speechless lip I hung
“The last, last pang her bosom wrung.

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“With mine was mix'd her farewell breath,
“On mine her eye yet gaz'd in death,
“Nor earth sithence a solace gave
“Save lamentation o'er her grave.
“Yet—ere my worldly sufferings close,
“Ere yet the tomb conceal my woes,
“Reft of my crown though here I stand,
“An exile in a stranger land,
“Castillia's rightful King, I claim
“Reverence for great Pelayo's fame,
“And honour due to kings alone
“Through me appeals to Edward's throne.

“Say, heir of England's greatness, say,
“Shall earth a rebel's nod obey,
“Shall realms at will revoke the vow
“That binds them to th' anointed brow?
“But—if regardless of the crown
“From sire to son transmitted down,
“Edward forgets that gracious heav'n
“Sceptre and sway to kings has giv'n:
“I, warriors, in Castillia's right
“Dare Trastamere to mortal fight.
“Conquest once more shall Pedro grace,
“Or close in blood my earthly race.

142

“Tell then the sons of other times,
“I fell for unattoned crimes.
“So shall my sufferings guilt appall,
“And awe-struck kings mourn Pedro's fall!”

II.

He spake, and with clasp'd hands uprais'd,
In speechless anguish heav'n-ward gaz'd,
Down his dark cheek the big tear stole,
And strong contrition shook his soul.

III.

Deep silence reign'd: when, solemn, slow,
In mercy to the man of woe,
The mitred Abbot onward came:
The crosier propt his feeble frame,
And, ringing on the pavement, told
Step after step by age controll'd.

IV.

He stood, and, bent o'er Pedro's brow,
Beheld his tear in silence flow,
And thus the contrite man addrest:
“Repentance yet thy soul may save,

143

“And lead thee to eternal rest.
“Son! on this hallow'd relic, vow,
“O'er Blanche, o'er hapless Bourbon's grave
“A gifted chantry to endow:
“And lead thyself a sacred band
“To combat in the holy land.—
“Then—heav'n vouchsafe his servant, pow'r
“To free thee from the torturing hour!”

V.

Pedro before him lowly bow'd,
And on the cross submission vow'd.
The prelate rais'd his hands, and shed
The solemn blessing on his head.
“Arise absolv'd—I loose the zone—
“King! urge thy claim at Edward's throne.”

VI.

While every eye on Edward turn'd,
And his bright cheek with glory burn'd,
And his brave hand, by justice sway'd,
Had half unsheath'd his shining blade:
Pedro by ardent hope inflam'd
Rose, and, o'er Constance, thus exclaim'd,

144

“Warriors! the voice of honour hear!
“For love, for glory couch the spear.
“Champion! arise—unsheath the sword:
“Free this fair Maid from Afric's lord:
“The veil that hides her charms remove,
“By valour win the Virgin's love:
“And, conqu'ring, on the field of fame
“Thy bride, Castillia's heiress, claim.”

VII.

At once, ere Pedro's closing word,

Up from their seats the warriors sprung,
Leapt from each sheath th' avenging sword,

The roof with martial clangour rung:
Brave Lancaster, before the rest,
Exultant to the Virgin prest,
His hand now hover'd o'er the veil:
When in the thunder of his mail,
With light'ning speed, with eye of fire
Baring his brow in scornful ire,
The stranger knight before him flew,
His outstretch'd arm a dagger drew,
Shook o'er the Maid in vengeful mood:
“Hence! or this poniard drinks her blood.

145

“Behold Almanzor, Afric's King,
“Afric's wide realms my sceptre own:
“Their Monarchs kneel before my throne.
“I claim my bride: lo mine the ring!
“Sheath your vain swords, I scorn your pow'r,
“My word, like Fate, o'er-rules the hour.
“Touch but this veil, the Virgin dies,
“My life the willing sacrifice,
“While reeking from the victim slain
“This dagger cleaves my heart in twain.

“Almanzor to the world proclaims
“The passion that his soul inflames.
“Thrills Europe at the voice of love?
“Does Afric's pulse less fiercely move?
“Love bad me quit my native throne,
“Love fix'd me lingering here unknown.
“Where, but at far-fam'd Edward's court
“Would Castile's King for aid resort?
“Love wing'd my sail, love arm'd the train
“That sought my bride across the main;
“Love bids me crown the Christian Maid,
“Or—in her breast, now, plunge my blade.”
He spake, and rais'd his arm on high.

'Mid the loud burst of agony,

146

Bold Lancaster, with thundering sound,
Cast his steel gauntlet on the ground:
“Fame vaunts thy strength, and giant force
“Dwells on the thunder of thy course,
“Thy spear's vast weight, thy bulk of shield,
“And mace no arm but thine can wield.
“Yet—Lancaster defies thy might:
“Take up my gauntlet, join the fight,
“Or, recreant, shun the beams of day.
“Paynim! come forth—I lead the way.”

VIII.

“Death meets thee there”—Almanzor cried.
“Lead to the lists my plighted bride.”
Each fiercely strode, and wav'd the blade.
Julian leads on the hapless Maid.
Lo! Edward, Pedro, Constance plac'd,
The lists with Crecy's conquerors grac'd;
Mail'd, on fierce steeds, beneath their sight
The rivals arm'd for mortal fight
Invoke the fair Castillian's name,
And couch the spear with deadly aim.

147

IX.

As when fierce winds their force oppose,
And clouds, dark-charg'd with ruin, close,
Peal echoing peal, loud thunders roar,
And lightnings gleam the welkin o'er,
Thus clash'd the knights in 'mid career,
Shivering in sparks of fire the spear.

X.

No sparkle of another lance
Shall from their bruised helmets glance.
Each seizing from the saddle bow
A mace that aims no second blow,
Around the ponderous weapon swung:
And harsh the clang of armour rung,
As onward gor'd to madd'ning speed
Clash'd, front 'gainst front, each fiery steed.
The prostrate coursers breathless lie:
The sword decides the victory.

XI.

Oh! it were long to tell each wound,
And how they wheel'd and travers'd round;
How, from each blow, the batter'd shield
And hauberk, piece-meal, strow'd the field:

148

How, each, throughout the dubious fray
By turns advanc'd, by turns gave way,
And what the Moor's gigantic might,
And Lancaster's address in fight.

Swift on the Christian's helm descends
The Paynim's blade, and cuts in twain
The wreath of pearls that strow the plain.
Lo! on bow'd knee the warrior bends:
That wreath—so seen—fresh force inspir'd:
Fame, vengeance, love each champion fir'd.
Blade rings on blade, wound follows wound,
And the warm life-blood spouts around.

XII.

Almanzor storms, his soul's on fire:
“Thus, thus, I conquer, or expire!”
He spake, and centering in one blow
Resistless strength to crush the foe,
Fiercely with high-rais'd falchion sprung.
While, pois'd in air, aloft it hung,
While yet the Paynim onward prest,
His keen-ey'd rival mark'd the wound
That stain'd with gushing blood his breast,
Peirc'd with swift stroke th' unguarded part,
And sheath'd the weapon in his heart.

149

The Moor falls thundering on the ground,
And rolling wild his eyes around
Clos'd them for ever on the day,
And, struggling, groan'd his soul away.

XIII.

“Heroic conqueror!”—Pedro cried—
“From Constance cast the veil aside,
“In triumph to her kingdom lead
“The Virgin by thy prowess freed.
“The way is barr'd by rebel foes:
“Danger and death thy course oppose:
“Danger and death thy faith shall prove,
“And crown the omnipotence of love.
“Go forth, and on the field of fame
“Thy bride, Castillia's heiress, claim.”

XIV.

The hero cast her veil aside,
And knelt before the blushing bride.
But—how?—what words,—what glowing lay
The feelings of her soul display,
Each mingled passion that imprest
Its tumult on the Virgin's breast,

150

When Constance in betrothed charms
Burst from the dark eclipse of night,
And, like an angel, rob'd in light,
To heav'n uprais'd her snowy arms,
While Fame's resounding voice proclaim'd her Champion's might?