IN WHICH THE MAIDEN, IN ADDITION TO HER OWN STORY, RELATES CERTAIN
MATTERS, WHICH WILL ROUSE THE ANGER OF THOSE WHO READ OF THEM
"My master will be glad to know how you happened to fall into the power
of those ruffians," said Fernan to the girl, when they had rode a short
distance from the inn, not being able to restrain the curiosity, which
was also felt by Rodrigo, although the image of Ximena was not for a
moment absent from his mind.
"I shall do so with much pleasure, courteous squire," replied the
maiden; "for if the knowledge that I was forcibly carried away has been
sufficient to induce this good knight to run to my succour, he will feel
better pleased for having performed that kind action when he shall have
learned more of my misfortunes."
"Relate them to us, relate them to us," said Rodrigo, impatient to hear
the adventures of his protégée, whose gentleness and beauty had much
struck him.
The young girl hastened to comply, saying, "God gave me very honourable
parents, although their position was only that of peasants, and I always
dwelt with them at Carrion, in this neighbourhood. They were vassals of
Don Suero, and although continually crushed down by the exactions of the
count, demanding constantly contributions from them, in which went the
greater part of the fruits of their toil, they nevertheless lived
contented; for the love which my parents had for each other made all
their troubles bearable, and even sweet. I was born, the sole fruit of
their marriage, and they loved me with such tenderness that, if I were
removed from their side, life would have no charm left for them. To
relate all the care they lavished on me, until I completed my fourteenth
year, would be a never-ending story; I believe that the poor love better
than the rich, for, since love is one of the pleasures, and perhaps the
only one, which is not forbidden them, they devote themselves to it with
all the strength of their souls. Poor as they were, my parents managed
to give me an education much better than is usually received by girls of
my position. Whether it was for that reason, or on account of the great
care with which my mother guarded me, it is certain that I was always
preferred to my companions by the young men, when we danced on the
threshing-floors on Sunday evenings, when they sang in our praise under
the windows, and when they returned from the woods with branches covered
with May bloom, which they stuck in the ground near the doors of the
houses. Near our house lived a young man, named Martin, who, amongst all
those of his age, distinguished himself by the affection which he
manifested for me, and by his many good qualities, especially by his
kindly disposition and his valour. For my part, I grew to love him very
much, as also did my parents; having demanded from them my hand, as he
knew that my heart was his, they willingly assented, and the day of our
marriage was arranged. You cannot know how much Don Suero was hated in
the district, both by the nobles and by the country-people, on account
of his tyranny as well as of his evil life, the report of which more
than once reached the ears of the king. He, however, had not found an
opportunity to punish him, as Don Suero is as powerful as he is cunning
and daring. Not far from Carrion, in a valley covered with gloomy woods,
there is a sanctuary to which, every year, the inhabitants of the
country, for twenty miles round, go on a pilgrimage; and there they
indulge in dances, banquets, and other amusements suitable for such
festivals. This pilgrimage takes place in the pleasantest part of
spring, and the rustic festivities render the joining in it very
delightful. Early in the morning my parents, Martin, his parents, and I
set out from Carrion, and, having arrived at the sanctuary and visited
it with devotion, we retired to refresh ourselves by taking a meal and a
rest under the shade of the trees, seated on the grassy sod, that was
sprinkled over with flowers, which delighted us with their beauty and
perfume. When our frugal but savoury repast was finished, a poor blind
man approached us, playing a lute. We gave him what remained of our
meal, which he thankfully accepted, also a draught of wine, which put
him in good spirits. We then asked him to play his instrument, in order
that Martin and I might dance to its music. The blind man did as we
requested him, and we danced with much pleasure both to ourselves and to
our parents, who warmly applauded us. Many persons approached, forming a
circle round us; but suddenly the trampling of horses was heard, and all
turned towards the path from whence the sounds proceeded, and then we
all trembled when we saw the Count, Don Suero, who was riding on, not
far from us, with a brilliant company of pages and cavaliers, and who
kept his gaze riveted on me with an attention which terrified me. The
blind man let his instrument fall on the ground when he heard the name
of Don Suero, and began to tremble in such a way that those who were
standing around felt compassion for him. He endeavoured to conceal
himself amongst them, as if the eyes of the count were those of a
basilisk, and he feared lest they might gaze on him. The crowd dispersed
as soon as the music and the dancing, which had attracted them, ceased;
Don Suero and his attendants continued their way, and shortly after our
inquietude had almost disappeared. But not so with the blind man, who
remained there full of terror, listening to the slightest noise which
could be heard about us. We asked him what was the cause of his
inquietude, and this is the lamentable story which he related to us,
from time to time shedding copious tears: 'God, when He took my wife
from me, left me a daughter, and also my eyes, with which I could gaze
upon her beauty, for you cannot imagine how beautiful my Sancha was!
Poor and rich envied me my treasure, for gold and silver and palaces
could not be of so much value to me as my daughter. "Father," she used
to say to me, "you are the centre of my affections on earth."
"Daughter," I used to say to her, "you will be my glory in this world."
Such was I to her, and such was she to me. One day we saw from our
window a cavalier, who, riding across the fields which I cultivated, was
directing his way towards our happy abode. He came up to the door and
asked for a drink of water, for it was the month of July and the sun was
so burning that Sancha and I had returned home from our work, in order
to escape his rays. My daughter handed the water to him, and we invited
him to rest beneath our roof. The cavalier thanked us, but did not
accept our offer. "You have been hospitable to me," he said, "and I
desire to show you that I am grateful; in exchange for the kindness you
offer me I ask another from you; if at any time you should go to
Carrion, where my estates are, come to the castle which I have there,
and I shall be well pleased to see both of you and extend my hospitality
to you; if you do not so, I shall be much vexed, for it will prove that
you do not trust in my goodwill, as I do in yours." We promised to do as
he requested, if the occasion should arise, and the cavalier went off by
the way he came, leaving us delighted with his courtesy, and resolved to
comply with his wishes, if ever we should be in the vicinity of Carrion.
The opportunity came, and it appeared to us that it would be an act of
discourtesy if we were to return home without seeing the count, for the
offering of a favour is of more worth than the acceptance of it. We
proceeded to his castle, and Don Suero received us and entertained us,
not as peasants, which we are, but as if we were kings. He showed us his
magnificent apartments, his richly-wrought furniture, brocades and
tapestries worthy of an emperor, gold and silver vessels, and beds
covered with silk and gold. My Sancha saw damsels there clad like
queens. None of them were as beautiful as she was, but appeared so on
account of the richness of their apparel and the fairness of their
faces, not browned, like hers, by the rays of the sun in summer and the
cold blasts of winter. When so great riches and such luxuries had made
us lament secretly the misery in which we always had lived, without
noticing it until then, the count asked us if we would like to remain in
his palace, where a happy life would await us, compared with that which
we had experienced, and which we should in future experience, working in
the fields. Little would have made us accept his proposal, but my Sancha
and I had heard that ambition, flattery, and calumny, which destroy both
body and soul, reside in palaces, and we resisted the temptation and the
importunities of Don Suero. We took leave of him, expressing our thanks;
but, on reaching the gate of the castle, we found it shut, and when we
were about to call out for someone to open it, two servants of the count
seized on me, and two men on my daughter, and separated us, carrying us
off with violence, Sancha I know not whither, and me into a dark prison
cell. In vain I implored them, in vain I called the count by the name of
traitor, in vain I questioned my jailers, for I remained many months in
my cell, separated from the world, and without a ray of light falling on
my eyes. From time to time I heard the bolts of my dungeon, and a
person--I know not whether it was a man or woman, for the darkness was
always complete, and no voice, except my own, ever sounded--brought to
me the meagre food which prolonged my sad life. One day I took up the
vessel in which water was left for me and raised it to my lips; I found
in it a sweetish liquor, which I drank without distrust; in a short time
I felt a great heaviness coming over my entire body, my senses were
numbed, my eyelids closed, and in a few moments I fell into a heavy
sleep. That sleep must have lasted very long, or at least so it seemed
to me, on account of the torments I suffered during its continuance; at
first there was a horrible nightmare, during which, at one time, my
daughter appeared calling on me, in her desolation, to deliver her from
the count; at another, weeping, in despair, over her lost honour; after
that I felt an acute pain in my head, as if my eyes were being torn out,
and I thought I heard footsteps of persons moving about me. At last I
shook off that infernal sleep; my senses recovered their activity, and I
only then felt a great weariness over my entire body, and an agonising
pain in my eyes. I raised my hand to them and found my face bathed with
a liquid, which I thought was sweat. A terrible suspicion seized on me
at that moment: I feared that they had deprived me for ever of the
light, and the pain which I felt in my eyes for some days confirmed that
idea. From that time forth I desired more ardently than ever to be able
to leave my prison, in order to find out if my suspicions were correct,
if I were condemned to live for ever in darkness; and I incessantly
demanded my liberty from my jailer, who at last, speaking to me for the
first time, informed me that I was about to receive my liberty. He then
took me by the hand, and guiding me through some winding passages, left
me in a place, which appeared to me to be a field, for the air was
circulating freely; the rustling of the leaves, moving over the ground,
could be heard; my feet trod on a soft substance, which I knew to be
grass; and the murmurings of the fountains and brooks arrived to my
ears. Then--ay, then! a despairing cry escaped my lips; there was no
longer any doubt, the Count of Carrion had condemned me to perpetual
darkness; the sun, the sky, the verdure of the fields, and above all,
the dangerous beauty with which God had endowed my daughter--my beloved
Sancha--could never again be seen by me! "But what has become of her, my
God!" I exclaimed. "Where shall I find her? Where is she, that she does
not come to guide her poor blind father in the darkness which will
perpetually surround him?" And from that time to this I seek my daughter
everywhere, in the villages and in the cities, in palaces and in
cabins--and nowhere can I find her. A hundred times have I gone to Don
Suero to demand of him where she is, and he has always ordered his
servants to drive me with blows from his palace, and now I fear to go
near him again, for he would kill me, and I do not wish to die until I
have clasped my daughter in my arms, and found a cavalier who will
avenge the terrible injuries which have been inflicted on us.'"
"God's anger! what a wretch that count is!" exclaimed Rodrigo, when the
girl had related thus far, and to whom he had listened with visible
emotion. "I would give my life," he continued, "to prove against him the
temper of my sword; and I pray God to grant me an opportunity of doing
so."
"In such a way did Martin cry out," continued the maiden, "when the
blind man terminated his sad history. You could have seen him, sir
knight, clenching his strong hands, brandishing the stout stick which he
used as a staff, and following with his eyes the road on which, but a
few minutes before, the count had disappeared, as if seeking that
infamous cavalier, in order to crush him with his righteous anger."
"I vow by Judas Iscariot," exclaimed Fernan, not less indignant than his
master, "that if I can get my lance near that villainous wretch, I will
spit him on it like a hen, not alone in the presence of the King of Leon
and Castile, but even in that of the King of Heaven Himself. But
continue your narrative, fair maid, for both my master and I are most
anxious to hear the conclusion of your own adventure."
The maiden then returned to what concerned herself, and the knight and
the squire approached their steeds as near hers as they possibly could,
so as not to miss a word of what she might say.
"The sun was about to hide himself behind a distant hill; and the birds
were bidding him farewell, singing plaintively in the trees which
surrounded us; and the pilgrims were beginning to leave the sanctuary,
as their songs and their joyous cries could be heard on the various
roads which branched off in all directions. We took the one which led to
Carrion, and the blind man with the lute was to get a night's lodging in
the hermitage. His story had taken gladness from our hearts, and we were
walking on, silent and uneasy, as if we foresaw some misfortune. Night
had come on, and the moon was alternately lighting up the landscape and
hiding herself behind the large black clouds which were moving across
the sky. On entering a narrow road, bordered by thick trees, we
perceived, in the obscurity, some dark objects which appeared to us to
be men on horseback, and we were not wrong, for just then they advanced
to meet us, calling out to us, 'Halt, ye rustics, or whoever ye are.'
Martin recognised the voice as that of one of the servants of Don Suero,
and told me so, placing himself before me, as if to protect me from a
danger which he believed was threatening me. Two of the horsemen
dismounted and came towards me with drawn swords; the moon then
concealed herself behind a dark cloud, and a terrific fight took place
between the ruffians and Martin, whose father, together with my father,
ran to his aid, although they were armed even worse than he was. At
last, however, the combat ceased; but the darkness prevented me from
seeing what had happened to Martin and our fathers. One of the ruffians
then lifted me up in his strong arms, without my being able to resist
him, as terror had deprived me of all strength, and placed me in those
of one of the men who had not dismounted; he then, placing me before him
on the horse, gave it the spurs and galloped off, followed by his
comrades, not, as I judged, by the road towards Carrion, but to a castle
situated at the boundaries of the district.
"He who had carried me off was Don Suero, whom I afterwards saw lying
insensible before the Inn of the Moor. An hour before your arrival we
all dismounted at that hostelry, for the ride had been rapid and long,
and both riders and horses were almost exhausted by hunger and fatigue.
However, when they were about to resume their journey, the footsteps of
your steeds were heard, and Don Suero, shutting me up in a room, sallied
forth with his followers to meet you. You know now, sir knight, how
grateful I should be for the service you have rendered me; but, even if
saved from my abductor, I cannot but weep for my father and for the
brave youth to whom I was to have been married, and of whose fate I am
ignorant, as they are of mine."
Thus speaking, the girl gave vent to her tears, which even the kind
words of Rodrigo and his squire were unavailing to restrain.
Not long after this the battlements of the Castle of Vivar were seen in
the distance, and when the sun had about half finished his daily journey
our travellers arrived at the end of theirs.