The seven knights, or, Tales of many lands being certain romanceros of chivalry |
THE ACHIEVEMENT OF THE YOUNG COUNT ALARCOS IN WINNING
HIS SPURS.' |
 | THE ACHIEVEMENT OF THE YOUNG COUNT ALARCOS IN WINNING
HIS SPURS.' The seven knights, or, Tales of many lands |  |
THE ACHIEVEMENT OF THE YOUNG COUNT ALARCOS IN WINNING
HIS SPURS.'
“The sun of an autumn evening was gilding the towers of Seville, when a
youthful knight, attended by a stout esquire, reined up his road-worn steed upon
the summit of a hill. Before him, lay the fair city, with its Moorish banners
topped with the silver crescent, floating above her battlements. The lofty
walls were lined wivh steel-clad men-at-arms, whose spearheads gleamed in the
western sun like points of flame. Encircling the walls, having a fair verdant
space of three good bow-shots' breadth between, were pitched the christian
tents, looking like a snowy girdle woven with red banners, in which was emblazoned
the cross; while burning shields of gold and silver hanging at the
numerous tent doors, seemed to the eye of the young cavalier, meet gems for
this warlike cincture. Knights in resplendent armor were riding hither and
thither; and before the king's tent, which was conspicuous by its height and
magnificence, a tournament was in progress; for there were visible, from the
distance at which he stood, two knights in shining casques, with scarlet mantles
the royal tent door; while ladies were discovered seated around, gracing
with their presence and beauty this martial pastime.
“Over all the mingled and varied prospect of battlement, tent and plain, of
warriors, banners and steel, glowed the refulgence of the mellow sunset, peculiar
to the south of Spain, the whole fair scene looking as if bathed in an atmosphere
of liquid gold.
“Now, by the golden girdle of our lady of Bivar! but this is a fair sight,
good Perico,” said the young knight, addressing his attendant, yet without turning
his head from the scene. “See how bravely the accursed green banner of
the infidel floats over our good christian city of Seville. They are strongly shut
up there, and methinks it will be many a long week, ere the cross take the
place of the crescent on you high towers. But God wot, our good king will be
sure ne'er to leave her gates till he hath the key in his gauntlet.”
“And that key, Master Alarcos, will have more steel than iron in it, and a
good cross for the handle,” said the esquire, speaking through the bars of his
shut visor.
“Thou meanest his sword, Perico, and so do I. But save me, if yon camp is
not a brave show for a youth who hath never, till now, seen a martial host
a-field, larger than a castle's retainers.
“Let us spur! The sun is touching the summits of the Sierras, and I would
fain get to the camp ere the night set in.”
The two horsemen then put their animals to their speed, and rapidly descended
the winding road into the plain, on their way to the christian camp. In the
mean while, we will describe their general appearance and bearing. The young
cavalier was not above twenty years of age, and of handsome person, and possessed
a noble, though youthful countenance. His hair was of a rich dark
brown hue, and escaping beneath his blue riding bonnet, flowed in waves over
his shapely shoulders. His eye was large, full, and very dark, and, while he
surveyed the embattled plain beneath, beamed with the proud spirit of ambitious
youth, while his ckeek flushed with excitement and hope. He was clad in a
suit of russet link armor, that yielded to his body as pliantly as the velvet surcoat
he wore above it. His fine neck was bare, save that a white linen band,
clasped by a cross of diamonds, encircled it close to the border of his surcoat.
A short horseman's mantle hung loosely off his left shoulder, and his mailed
boots were encased in buff-colored overhauls of chamois leather. At his belt, in
a steel scabbard, hung a sword, with a jewelled cross for the hilt. He carried
in his uncovered hand, an ivory riding switch, to which was attached a white
silken ribbon. His gauntlets hung dangling by their chain wristbands over his
saddle-bow, on which also was suspended a light shield, richly embossed and
inlaid, and bearing for its device the crest and talons of a black eagle. His
casque hung by its chainlets, also to his saddle, while his esquire carried his
spear and the heavy war garniture, needful for camp service. The horse of
the young knight was securely mailed in scale armor for the breast and head,
and in chain armor for his body. Though slight of limb, and elegant rather
than strong, he was harnessed like a knight's steed intended for service; and
the youth himself, though wearing a jewelled throat clasp, and displaying diamonds
on his sword hilt, was harnessed like an experienced warrior, rather than
like young cavaliers of his age and day, who much delighted to glitter in gowns
of soye with gold profusely ornamenting their arms and armor; wore gloves of
kid skin delicately perfumed within their gauntlets, and donned bonnets when
the helmet was laid aside, richly broidered and set off with gay and flaunting
plumes. His man-at-arms was all in iron; no gold was upon his crest or crosslet,
but from gauntlet to heel he sat upon his steed a bulwark of iron mail;
while his stout brown steed was black with the heavy proof mail that was laid
upon him.
The young knight was the youthful count Alarcos, nearly allied to the royal
blood of Castile. He had passed his youth in retirement with his mother, who
only the week previous, had given her consent that he should don armor and
join the king's army at the leaguer of Seville. Sad had been the parting between
the noble parent and the young soldier; and when we now encounter
him on his way, though three days' journey have separated him from his paternal
roof, the thoughts of her lonely state in the castle of Lanuza had cast such
a heavy cloud over his spirits that the sight of the christian camp and the beleaguered
city alone had power to dissipate it.
The road by which they descended the summit, wound for some distance
along the mountain side, and ere it turned into the valley towards the camp,
approached within long cross-bow shot of the walls, so that travellers at that
point were placed in great danger from any bolt sped from the battlements.
There was no way to turn aside from this menacing peril, as a precipice rose to
a great height on one hand, and a deep and angry river foamed on the other.
The only alternative, therefore, was to ride bravely forward, or turn cowardly
back, and gain the camp by going many leagues about and approaching it from
the south quarter. This peril the young count and his esquire did not discover
until they came near the bottom of the hill, when they saw several travellers on
horseback, and peasants on mules, grouped beneath a large cork tree that overhung
the way, and seeming to be in fearful and anxious consultation. The
young knight and his esquire were riding by them at a round pace, when one of
them, who by his costume and the bales with which his nag was laden, was a bujonero,
or travelling merchant, rode out into the path, and said, in a loud tone
of warning.
“Hold rein, fair knight, and you my good esquire, for there is peril in the
way. We were journeying toward the christian camp, and on our way, not
many paces in advance, we were shot at from the walls, and one of our number
was wounded. He lies there beneath the tree, where you see the group, nigh
his death, without priest to shrive him. So we turned bastily back, and are in
consultation what to do. If you ride forward, brave cavalier, you will surely be
shot with a shaft a good yard and ell long. We have commodities in our packs
for the king's camp, and sorry are we our way is stopped.”
“Thou, thyself, dealest in yards and ells, bujonero; therefore, thou should'st
little heed thine own measuring rods, though the Moor may give something
more honest length of measure in his steel-headed yard than thou and thy craft
are wont to dispense to thy customers. But,” added the young cavalier,
riding a little forward, where an opening through the trees gave him a view of
the walls, towering skyward, and of the road before him, after passing near
them, making an abrupt turn up the valley, “the highway, as you say, cometh
full nigh to you battlements. By the red rood! But there is temptation for a
maiden knight to win his spurs by a little bold venture. See the green turbans,
and the serried spear-heads how they bristle above the rampart. They are
watching us Perico. I can see their glittering eyes even at this distance!
“Heaven save us,” said the pedler; “if they should make a sally from yonder
gate—”
“Thy rich goods then,” said Count Alarcos, laughing, “would shortly deck
the infidels' bodies; and thy head and those of thy comrades grace the iron
pinnacles of yonder gate-head.”
“Holy Saint Peter and his sword defend us,” exclaimed the bujonero in
alarm, which was equally shared by the promiscuous company with which he
travelled; and laying his staff stoutly across his nag's back, he took the lead
of a general escapade that soon left the knight and his esquire sole occupants
of the spot.
“There goes a brave company of christians,” said the esquire, “first calling
on Saint Peter's sword for aid, and then trusting to their beasts' legs for safety.
We are well rid of them. Now, good master, how shall we get to the king's
camp without being shot at like deer, from the walls?”
“I do confess, Perico, that I should have been better pleased had the road
given wider space for the Moor's shafts to fly across. As it is we may not turn
back like you scampering horde of Jews, pedlars and other money-getting
rogues. Let us keep the road at an easy trot, like cavaliers journeying unsuspicious
of danger. It will be a far shot-bolt that reaches us, and we can so
watch them as they fly, as to receive them in time upon our shields. Let us on,
but not quicken our pace one jot beyond the ordinary gait of travellers.”
“Our Lady guard you, my noble master,” said the esquire. “It is a dangerous
ride we have to take, but I would rather see thee perish, and lie myself
by thy side, than have thee turn back for a Moorish lance.”
“At my first outset in a knightly career, it might never be without infamy.
Were an old and tired soldier here, he could choose his own way without dishonor.
My way lies in the path before me. Let us on, good Perico, putting
our trust in Heaven.”
“Don your casque, my lord, and brace your shield,” said the esquire, as
they prepared to move forward.
“No, I will ride in unsuspecting guise. If danger come I will be soon ready.'
Thus speaking, the fearless and adventurous young knight, true to the
principles of chivalry, which enjoin its devotees to court rather than turn aside
from danger that lay in the path, rode easily forward, followed a few paces
behind by his faithful esquire. They soon came to the foot of the hill, and
entered upon the level ground, over which the road wound, approaching in one
of its angles very near the walls. They trotted forward some time in silence,
intently watching the battlements lined with armed Moors, over whose heads
floated the standard of the Prophet.
“I yet hope to live, my good Perico,” said the young cavalier, as the
shadow of a tower before them fell across their road, “to see the day, when
yon green banner, with its haughty crescent, emblem of a false faith, shall no
more flash back the setting sun's beams in all the fair land of Spain. How
calmly the blue sky bends above it! Methinks over the standard of the infidel,
the heavens should ever lower black and menacing. But God is good; and,
as the priests tell us, hath wisdom in sending rain and sunshine, both upon
Christian and infidel!
“He hath put their judgment into the Christians' hand,” said the esquire,
devoutly; “and he who slayeth an infidel doeth God service. Don your
helm, my lord, I see them fitting shafts to their cross-bows. We are now
within range.”
“Nay,” said the young Count, stoutly, “I will not, by taking precaution,
show the Moor that I fear danger ere danger come.” They had now arrived
where the road made the nearest approach to the wall, and where blood upon
the ground, and a broken arrow lying near, indicated the spot where the companion
of the bujonero had fallen.
“These peddling varlets were full bold to come thus near a leaguered city
with its walls bristling with steel points,” said the knight; “but these men
will, for a score or two of bezants' value of merchandise, peril life and limb.
Shall not, then, forsooth, a cavalier, for his country, his faith, and his
knightly troth, put himself in jeopardy. How is this? They have suffered
us to ride on, unmolested, for full three hundred paces. Do they mistake us
for their own?”
“They have ell yards for trading pedlers, and knight's weapons for
knights,” said the esquire; “for see, my lord! Yonder gate, before us, is
thrown open, and there ride forth two — nay five knights. Let us spur ere
they place themselves across our path between us and the Christian camp.”
“Nay, good esquire,” said Count Alarcos, turning his looks quietly towards
the sally port, whence a company of five Moorish knights had issued. “Neither
let us press nor slacken speed. They have withheld their cross-bow-men's
shafts to give us reception due to our degree. We will not refuse their hospitality,
but meet them.”
“'Tis too great peril, my good lord; and I did swear upon my sword's
crosslet to thy lady mother as well not to advise thee to peril, as to defend
thee from danger. Let us ride forward while the way is open. See! to the
king's camp is not a third of a mile, and we can soon reach it in safety.”
“Nay, I have never seen a Moor close at hand, and fain would gratify my
curiosity. But I will not meet them without knightly covering to my head.”
Thus saying, the young count removed his woolen cap, and placing his
helmet upon his head, closed the vizor. He then braced his shield to his
arm, received from his esquire his lance, and placing it in easy rest, rode on as
before. In the meantime, the Moorish knights had left the gate, and galloping
across the plain, drew rein, and stood in the path by which the Count and
his esquire were approaching.
The advance of the knight and his esquire by the road beneath the walls,
had been observed from the Christian camp, and much interest was awakened
by their quiet and easy journeying in the face of such danger.
“By my halidom,” said the king, as his attention was drawn to them by
one near him while watching the jousts before his tent, “but yonder cavalier
taketh it coolly. The Moors do not molest him. He hath a charm. See!
Who knoweth yonder gallant knight?”
No one replied; when the princess Beatriz, his daughter, whose attention
had also been drawn from the lists by the approach of the two horsemen, said,
“He is youthful by his figure and carriage, sire, and doubtless hath come to
offer service in our camp.”
“He is a brave gallant. Look, caballeros! the gates are thrown open,
and five knights come forth to withstand his journey. Now heaven favor his
escape from the infidel.”
“See, he flies not, sire!” said the beautiful Beatriz, who with her ladies,
as well as all the knights present, had turned their attention from the now
neglected lists, to watch the single knight's adventure.
“No, by the mass,” cried Ferdinand, “he hath donned his casque and
braced his shield; and now his esquire, fearless as his master, delivereth to
him his lance. 'Fore God he doth mean to give them battle. He thinketh
one Christian knight an even match for five infidels. I would I knew him.
But such a brave cavalier must not fall by such odds. Ho! what four knights
will take stand by his side and help him give good account of these Moors?”
The king had hardly spoken ere half a score of cavaliers were in the saddle,
lance in rest.
“Hold!” cried the princess; “whoever he be, let him have, alone, the
honor of the field he hath so bravely challenged. If he be unhorsed, then,
brave knights, hie ye swift to his rescue.”
“Aye,” said the king, “if he wanted help he would make a signal. Let
him have the achievement. If he fall he could never do so in a better fray.
But, by my crown, if he do get worsted, you infidel crew shall pay for his life,
if I have to take stirrup in person.”
In the meanwhile, the object of so great interest in the christian camp, all
eyes in which were watching him, rode on, with his visor down and lance in
rest, at the same quiet pace he held before the Moors appeared. He came
within fifty paces of them, and seeing that they quite closed up the beaten
path, he coolly turned his horse aside and took the sward, but neither quickening
nor slackening his pace. Steadily he rode on, as unmoved as if turning
out of the way to avoid a slough or mule drove that blocked the road. The
Moors, all five tall and iron harnessed knights, had their visors raised and
lances levelled. As he approached so coolly, and turned aside so quietly,
they surveyed him with surprise, wondering, and expecting that each moment
he should charge them or turn to flee. In this expectation, and deceived by
such unwonted conduct, they had let him ride till he and his esquire were
abreast of them; when seeing that he would escape, one of them raised the
Moorish war cry and charged upon him.
“The villains have some courtesy,” said the king as he beheld this. “If
they set upon him but one at a time, I do not fear but he will make them bite
the dust. He is but a slight person — but God wot! but he has a true soul.
There rolls the Moor upon the ground, horse and rider! Brave lance! skilful
knight!” and a shout rung the air from the christian camp.
Two more of the Moors, then furiously charged the victorious young Count
Alarcos, one of whom his trusty esquire unhorsed and slew, the knight himself,
after breaking his lance, and taking his sword, overthrowing the other.
“Alla-il-allah!” shouted the remaining two Moors, and both rode against
the youth, who for a few moments was engaged with them ere his esquire
could extricate his sword from a crevice in the mail of him he had slain, and
come to his aid.
The contest was brief, but terrific, and fatal to the Moors; and Count Alarcos
and his stout esquire, taking from the conquered infidels their swords and
shields, as trophies of their prowess, left them, two of them slain and three of
them wounded, lying at length upon the path where they had drawn themselves
up to oppose their progress.
“Now by the iron sword of El Cid,” cried the king, with animation,
having, with his nobles and knights around him, witnessed with intense interest
Ride forward, knights, and meet the victor, lest the Moors sally forth to avenge
on him their foul dishonor. 'Fore Heaven! but he and his esquire ride on
their way again at the same easy pace as if they had not rode over the bodies
of five infidels! But see, he turns back!”
Count Alarcos had not proceeded far towards the camp when he discovered
that in the contest he had lost his ivory riding switch, with the white silken
ribbon appended to it. When he learned this, he stopped his horse and turning
round, said to his esquire, “I must not purchase knightly honor at the
expense of filial faith, good Perico. The scarf was given me by my noble
mother as a guerdon and memento at parting from her not four days since. I
could not lose it so soon, and did I not make the effort to recover it, I should
be unworthy to replace it by a maiden's gift. I must go back. Halt thou
here.”
“Nay, I shall not leave thee, my noble master. But let us hasten and
return at speed — for the Moors will be upon us.”
“To please thee I will ride at thy own pace.” Count Alarcos and his
esquire then galloped back, and notwithstanding, when the Moors on
the walls saw them returning, they darkened the air with arrows, they
kept on their course. The bolts, save two, fell far short of them; one of these
piercing the neck of Perico's horse, inflicting a slight wound; the other striking
against the Count's shield, and falling, its force being nearly spent, harmlessly
to the ground. On reaching the spot, they saw that one of the Moors had
raised himself up and was stanching with his mantle, a wound in his side.
Near him, on the ground, stained with drops of blood, lay the white ribbon
and switch, Count Alarcos ventured so much to recover. He dismounted,
and taking it up, pressed it to his lips, breathing his mother's name.
“Now let us to horse and spur to preserve the glory won this day,” said
his esquire. “A troop of Moorish knights, seven in number, are galloping
from the gates towards us.”
“Count Alarcos turned his head and seeing them approaching, mounted
his horse, saying,
“Softly, good esquire, let us not hasten our pace, but ride at ease. Shall
we one moment conquer, to flee the next? Those who come are but Moors,
like those we have just overthrown. If there be two more, there will be two
more swords and two more shields to carry away as trophies.”
“This is rash, my lord.”
“It is cowardly to fly. I am just entering upon achievements of knighthood,
and while I am a Christian knight and Castilian gentleman, I will never
save my life by turning my back. They shout and mock us! Let us turn
and face them.”
The party of Moors were galloping furiously towards the two horsemen,
when, seeing them stop and turn towards them, they were surprised at their
fearlessness; and suddenly reining up, seemed to hold a consultation. In the
meanwhile, Count Alarcos and his esquire, with their faces towards their foes,
backed their horses, and in this way, stop by step backwards, moved in the direction
of the royal camp. The king, seeing their bold procedure, recalled the
knights that were going forth, and bade them wait the issue. “It were a
pity,” he said to his nobles, “so brave a knight should not have all the honor
this propitious day chooses to bring him By the rood! I look to see him
charge and discomfit the whole seven infidels and despoil them of their armor;
when he shall be called the knight of the Twelve shields.”
The Moors, after a few moments' deliberation, turned their horses' heads
and rode to the spot where their friends lay. A loud shout of triumph hereupon
broke from the Christian host, while the silence of the Moors crowding
the battlements indicated their chagrin.
“Now, by my kingly faith, I will ride forth and meet this champion who
hath done such honor this day to knighthood, and brought such glory to
the Christian arms,” said Ferdinand.
“I will accompany thee, royal sire,” said the princess Beatriz, and with
my own hands reward his chivalry.”
The king forthwith took horse and so did his daughter, and at the head
of a troop of knights they rode forth the camp to meet and receive the unknown
knight. When the Count Alarcos saw the approach of the king, whom he
knew by his stately bearing and the fashion of his helmet, as well as by the
rank and circumstance of power with which he was attended, his modesty
would not let him harbor the thought that it was to do him honor that this
royal procession advanced. He therefore said to his esquire,
“We will turn aside, good Perico, and so avoid this meeting with such
royal and knightly company, in our present soiled and way-worn condition;
for, what with travel and fighting, we are in unseemly plight. I would fain
present myself with my mother's letter before the king in a more befitting
fashion. So we will ride aside.”
Ferdinand divining this intention by seeing them turn their horses to the left
as if to gain the camp by another direction, sent two gentlemen forward, who
conveyed to him in courtly phrase, the king's command that he and his esquire
should forthwith ride forward in his presence.
Blushing with embarrassment, the brave Count Alarcos, bidding his esquire
keep close to him, rode forward between the two gentlemen, wondering what
the king should want; for his humility would not let him believe that he had
done aught beyond a true knight's duty, and had thus merited reward. The
king, seeing him advance, rode forward to meet him; the princess riding on a
milk-white palfrey by his side.
“I will reverse my shield, and the king shall not know me by its device,”
said the Count to himself; for as yet I know not the reception I shall have at
his hands, as there hath been long coldness between him and my noble
mother.”
“Thou art welcome, stranger knight,” said king Ferdinand. “Thou hast
achieved deeds this day worthy of Rodrigo de Bivar, the Cid, of whose blood
I will be sworn, thou hast something in thy veins. Thou art welcome to our
camp, and to honor thy valor, which we have witnessed, we have come out to
meet thee. Wilt thou lift thy visor that we may know what renowned knight
we have with us.”
“My noble leige,” replied the youthful Count Alarcos, surprised yet
pleased at this gracious reception from his sovereign, “I fear when thou shalt
know my name, and that I have for the first time drawn a maiden sword to
win my spurs, thou wilt repent the honor thou hast unwittingly done an unknown
youth.”
“Ne'er a bit! for if thou art young, so much more is thy credit. Lift thy
visor.”
The youthful warrior raised the bars of his visor, and showed the beholding
king and admiring princess the modest and conscious face of a youth of scarce
twenty summers. The king gave utterance to a round oath of surprise, and
Beatriz, with the ladies attending her, uttered exclamations of delight; while
the nobles and cavaliers around in various ways manifested their astonishment
that such achievements as they had beheld, should have been performed by a
beardless youth.
“Thy face, as well it may be, for its youth, is unknown to me,” at length
spoke Ferdinand. “What device bearest thou?”
Count Alarcos turned his shield and the king beheld the Black Eagle's crest
and talons, the insignia of the royal house of Castille.
“By the holy rood!” he exclaimed, “this device and thy deeds prove thee
none else than the son of my royal cousin, that brave knight Perez Garci,
Count of Alarcos. Art thou he?”
“I am, my leige,” answered the Count, with diffidence at being the centre
of so many observing eyes. “I bear for your royal hands this packet from
the Countess of Alarcos.”
“Then hast this hour ennobled even thy proud lineage, noble and youthful
Count. Thou art from this day a part of our royal household and near my
honor him.”
The princess, scarce nineteen, extended her hand to the young knight, who
reverently pressed his lips to it; and then Ferdinand dismounting, unbuckled
his own spurs, and placed them with his own royal hands upon the iron heel
of the Count, who fain would have withheld him from conferring upon him so
great an honor.
“Now, knight in deed as well as in courtesy and by birth; come thou to
sup with us in our tent and tell me of my cousin, the fair Countess; who hath
so many years absented herself from court, we had well nigh forgot her. But
we forgive her since she sends thee her representative. Pray thee, why didst
thou return after thou and thy trusty esquire had overthrown the Moors? I
would fain know, for mere bravado could not make so brave a man thrust
himself back where he might endanger the laurels so nobly won?”
“To recover this silken scarf which I had missed, and which had fallen
upon the ground in the fray.”
“The gift of some true maiden — thou art loyal in love as well as brave in
war,” said the king, smiling.
“Nay, my leige,” answered the youth, coloring, “I shall ne'er think of
love till I achieve something worthy a maiden's regard. The scarf is my
mother's parting gift, and I would not lightly lose it where a few paces return
would restore it to me.”
“Better still! By my knighthood thou art a good son, and filial honor is
great knightly merit, for he who honoreth his mother is worthy of a mistress.
Beatriz, were it not a shame to thee and thy ladies that so true a knight should
were only a mother's gage?”
“Fair cousin,” said Beatriz, with downcast eyes, as he rode by her side,
the king being on the other hand, “you, who have so gallantly preserved a
mother's memento, knowest how to defend that of a maiden princess. Receive
this scarf and wear it in honor of her who bestows it. For never braver
knight wore maiden's favor.”
Thus speaking, the princess removed from her throbbing bosom her blue
scarf, and with a blush of virgin shame and pride, cast it across his mailed
breast.
“Gallantly and fairly done, daughter,” said Ferdinand. “Behold! knights
and gentlemen, the reward beauty bestows upon valor. Now let us enter our
royal tent, fair cousin, and there we will listen to what thou mayst have to
say touching this thine adventurous visit to us.”
Thus speaking, the King and Beatriz escorted Count Alarcos into the royal
tent, where a kingly entertainment was provided, at which, after taking a
luxurious bath and changing his coat of mail for a velvet robe, he sat down
on Ferdinand's right hand; the princess, whose stealing glances betrayed her
deepening interest in him, being seated on the left.
Late at night he was conducted to a tent prepared near by for him, where
his faithful and happy esquire Perico, waited to receive him and perform his
duties as esquire to his person. Bewildered by the distinguished reception he
had met with, the young knight threw himself upon a sumptuous couch; and
while listening to the tales in his praise which Perico averred he had heard
from every lip, he fell asleep dreaming that the princess Beatriz was carried
off by seven Moorish knights, and that he and Perico had rescued her and
brought her back to the camp, for which deed the king gave him her hand in
marriage, she having beforehand, as he dreamed, given him her heart.
| THE ACHIEVEMENT OF THE YOUNG COUNT ALARCOS IN WINNING
HIS SPURS.' The seven knights, or, Tales of many lands | |