DON RODERICK RECEIVES AN EXTRAORDINARY EMBASSY.
The heart of Don Roderick was not so depraved by sensuality, but that
the wrong he had been guilty of toward the innocent Florinda, and the
disgrace he had inflicted on her house, weighed heavy on his spirits, and
a cloud began to gather on his once clear and unwrinkled brow.
Heaven, at this time, say the old Spanish chronicles, permitted a
marvellous intimation of the wrath with which it intended to visit the
monarch and his people, in punishment of their sins; nor are we, say the
same orthodox writers, to startle, and withhold our faith, when we meet
in the page of discreet and sober history with these signs and portents,
which transcend the probabilities of ordinary life; for the revolutions
of empires and the downfall of mighty kings are awful events, that
shake the physical as well as the moral world, and are often announced
by forerunning marvels and prodigious omens. With such-like cautious
preliminaries do the wary but credulous historiographers of yore usher in
a marvellous event of prophecy and enchantment, linked in ancient story
with the fortunes of Don Roderick, but which modern doubters would fain
hold up as an apocryphal tradition of Arabian origin.
Now, so it happened, according to the legend, that about this time, as
King Roderick was seated one day on his throne, surrounded by his nobles,
in the ancient city of Toledo, two men of venerable appearance entered
the hall of audience. Their snowy beards descended to their breasts,
and their gray hairs were bound with ivy. They were arrayed in white
garments of foreign or antiquated fashion, which swept the ground, and
were cinctured with girdles, wrought with the signs of the zodiac, from
which were suspended enormous bunches of keys of every variety of form.
Having approached the throne and made obeisance: “Know, O King,” said one
of the old men, “that in days of yore, when Hercules of Libya, surnamed
the strong, had set up his pillars at the ocean strait, he erected a
tower near to this ancient city of Toledo. He built it of prodigious
strength, and finished it with magic art, shutting up within it a fearful
secret, never to be penetrated without peril and disaster. To protect
this terrible mystery he closed the entrance to the edifice with a
ponderous door of iron, secured by a great lock of steel; and he left a
command that every king who should succeed him should add another lock to
the portal; denouncing woe and destruction on him who should eventually
unfold the secret of the tower.
“The guardianship of the portal was given to our ancestors, and has
continued in our family, from generation to generation, since the days
of Hercules. Several kings, from time to time, have caused the gate to
be thrown open, and have attempted to enter, but have paid dearly for
their temerity. Some have perished within the threshold, others have been
overwhelmed with horror at tremendous sounds, which shook the foundations
of the earth, and have hastened to reclose the door, and secure it with
its thousand locks. Thus, since the days of Hercules, the inmost recesses
of the pile have never been penetrated by mortal man, and a profound
mystery continues to prevail over this great enchantment. This, O king,
is all we have to relate; and our errand is to entreat thee to repair
to the tower and affix thy lock to the portal, as has been done by all
thy predecessors.” Having thus said, the ancient men made a profound
reverence and departed from the presence chamber.[10]
Don Roderick remained for some time lost in thought after the departure
of the men: he then dismissed all his court, excepting the venerable
Urbino, at that time archbishop of Toledo. The long white beard of this
prelate bespoke his advanced age, and his overhanging eyebrows showed him
a man full of wary counsel.
“Father,” said the king, “I have an earnest desire to penetrate the
mystery of this tower.” The worthy prelate shook his hoary head: “Beware,
my son,” said he; “there are secrets hidden from man for his good. Your
predecessors for many generations have respected this mystery, and have
increased in might and empire. A knowledge of it, therefore, is not
material to the welfare of your kingdom. Seek not then to indulge a
rash and unprofitable curiosity, which is interdicted under such awful
menaces.”
“Of what importance,” cried the king, “are the menaces of Hercules, the
Lybian? was he not a pagan? and can his enchantments have aught avail
against a believer in our holy faith? Doubtless, in this tower are locked
up treasures of gold and jewels, amassed in days of old, the spoils of
mighty kings, the riches of the pagan world. My coffers are exhausted; I
have need of supply; and surely it would be an acceptable act in the eyes
of Heaven, to draw forth this wealth which lies buried under profane and
necromantic spells, and consecrate it to religious purposes.”
The venerable archbishop still continued to remonstrate, but Don
Roderick heeded not his counsel, for he was led on by his malignant
star. “Father,” said he, “it is in vain you attempt to dissuade me. My
resolution is fixed. To-morrow I will explore the hidden mystery, or
rather the hidden treasures of this tower.”