Earnestly their minds are fix'd each upon his foe;

Face to face they take their place, anon the trumpets blow.

They stir their horses with the spur, they lay their lances low,

They bend their shields before their breasts, their face to the saddle bow,
Earnestly their minds are fix'd each upon his foe.

The heavens are overcast above, the earth trembles below,
The people stand in silence, gazing on the show:
Bermuez the first challenger first in combat closed,

He met Ferran Gonzales, face to face opposed ;

They rush together with such rage that all men count them dead,
They strike each other on the shield, without all fear or dread.
Ferran Gonzales with his lance pierced the shield outright,
It pass'd Bermuez on the left side, in his flesh it did not bite.
The spear was snapp'd in twain, Bermuez sat upright,
He neither flinch'd nor swerved, like a true steadfast knight.
A good stroke he received, but a better he has given;
He struck the shield upon the boss, in sunder it is riven,
Onward into Ferran's breast the lance's point is driven,
Full upon his breast-plate, nothing would avail;
Two breast-plates Fernando wore and a coat of mail :
The two are riven in sunder, the third stood him in stead,
The mail sunk in his breast, the mail and the spear-head,

The blood burst from his mouth that all men thought him dead.
The blow has broken his girdle and his saddle girth,

It has taken him over his horse's back, and borne him to the earth.

Enclinaban las caras sobre los arzones;

Batien los cavallos con los espolones;

Tembrar querie la tierra dod eran movedores.

Cada uno dellos mientes tiene al só.

Todos tres por tres ya juntados son.

Cuidanse que esora cadran muertos, los que estan aderredor.

Pero Bermuez el que antes rebtó,

Con Ferran Gonzalez de cara se juntó;

Feriense en los escudos sin todo pavor;

Ferran Gonzalez à Pero Bermuez el escudol' pasó ;

Prisol' en vacio, en carne nol' tomó :

Bien en dos lugares el astil le quebró ;

Firme estido Pero Bermuez, por eso nos' encamó;

Un colpe recibiera, mas otro firió;

Quebrantò la boca del escudo, apart gela echó ;

Pasògelo todo que nada nol' valió;

Metiol' la lanza por los pechos, que nada nol' valió ;

Tres dobles de loriga tenie Fernando, aquestol' prestó
Las dos le desmanchan, è la tercera fincó:

El belmez con la camisa è con la guarnizon
De dentro en la carne una mano gela metió;
Por la boca afuera la sangrel' salió.
Quebrar onle las cinchas, ninguna nol' ovo pro;
Por la copla del cavallo en tierra lo echó,

Ási

The people think him dead as he lies on the sand;
Bermuez left his lance and took his sword in hand.
Ferran Gonzales knew the blade which he had worn of old,
Before the blow came down, he yielded and cried, "Hold !"
Antolinez and Diego encounter'd man for man,

Their spears were shiver'd with the shock, so eagerly they ran.
Antolinez drew forth the blade which Diego once had worn,
Eagerly he aim'd the blow for the vengeance he had sworn.
Right through Diego's helm the blade its edge has borne,
The crest and helm are lopt away, the coif and hair are shorn.
He stood astounded with the stroke, trembling and forlorn,
He waved his sword above his head, he made a piteous cry,
"O save me, save me from that blade, Almighty Lord on high :"
Antolinez came fiercely on to reach the fatal stroke,

Diego's courser rear'd upright, and through the barrier broke.
Antolinez has won the day, though his blow was miss'd,

He has driven Diego from the field, and stands within the list.
I must tell you of Munio Gustioz, two combats now are done;
How he fought with Assur Gonzales, you shall hear anon.

Asi lo tenien las yentes que mal ferido es de muert.
El dexó la lanza, è al espada metió mano.
Quando lo vio Ferran Gonzalez, conuuo à Tizon.
Antes que el colpe esperase, dixo, "venzudo so,"
Otorgarongelo los Fieles, Pero Bermuez le dexó.

Martin Antolinez e Diego Gonzalez firieronse de las lanzas;
Tales fueron los colpes que les quebraron lan lanzas ;
Martin Antolinez mano metió al espada;

Relumbra tod' el campo, tanto es limpia è clara.

Diól' un colpe, de traviesol' tomaba;

El casco de somo apart gelo echaba;

Las moncluras del yelmo todas gelas cortaba:
Alla lebó el almofar, fata la cofia legaba;

La cofia è el almofar todo gelo lebaba;

Raxól' los pelos de la cabeza, bien à la carne legaba.
Lo uno cayó en el campo e lo al suso fincaba.
Quando deste colpe ha ferido Colada la preciada,
Vió Diego Gonzalez que no escaparie con alma.
Bolvió la rienda al cavallo por tornase de cara.
Esora Martin Antolinez recibiól' con el espada.
Un colpel' dió de lano, con el agudo nol' tomaba.
Dia Gonzalez espada tiene en mano, mas non la ensaiaba.
Esora el Infante tan grandes voces daba,

"Valme, Dios glorioso, Senor, è curiarm' desta espada!"
El cavallo asorrienda e mesurandol' del espada,
Sacól' del moion, Martin Antolinez en el campo fincaba.
Esora dixó el Rey, "venid vos a mi compaña,

"Por quanto avedes fecho, vencida avedes esta batalla."
Otorgangelo los Fieles que dice verdadera palabra.
Los dos han arrancado: direvos de Muño Gustioz

Con

Assur Gonzales, a fierce and hardy knight,

He rode at Munio Gustioz with all his force and might :

He struck the shield and pierced it through, but the point came wide, It passed by Munio Gustioz, betwixt his arm and side:

Sternly, like a practised knight, Munio met him there.

His lance he levell'd steadfastly, and through the shield him bare;
He bore the point into his breast, a little beside the heart;
It took him through the body, but in no mortal part;
The shaft stood out behind his back a cloth-yard and more;
The pennon and the point were dripping down with gore.
Munio still clench'd his spear, as he pass'd he forced it round,
He wrench'd him from the saddle, and cast him to the ground.
His horse sprung forward with the spur, he pluck'd the spear away,
He wheel'd and came again to pierce him where he lay.
Then cried Gonzalo Asurez, " For God's sake spare my son !
"The other two have yielded, the field is fought and won."

The heralds and king Alfonso proclaim that the champions of the Cid have conquered. The latter, however, are conveyed during the night from the lands of Carion, and return to their leader, lest the vassals of the Infants should avenge the discomfiture of their lords.

The two last verses of this poem inform us that the Cid died on the Day of Pentecost, without stating the year or the mode of his death. Commentators have supposed that it was on the 29th of May, 1099; and Muller has conjectured that it was in the month of July, in the same year. In ex

Con Asur Gonzalez como se adobó :

Firiense en los escudos unos tan grandes colpes :

Asur Gonzalez, furzudo è de valor,

Firió en el escudo a Don Muño Gustioz.

Tras el escudo falsóge la guarnizon;

En vacio fue la lanza, ca en carne nol' tomó.

Este colpe fecho, otro diò Muño Gustioz,

Tras el escudo falsóge la guarnizon.

Por medio de la bloca del escudo quebrantó.
Nol' pudo guarir, falsóge la guarnizon.

Apart' le prisó, que non cabel corazon.

Metiòl' por la carne adentro la lanza con el pendon.
De la otra part una braza gela echó :

Con el diò una tuerta, de la siella lo encamó,

Al tirar de la lanza en tierra lo echó.

Bermeio salió el astil, è la lanza è el pendon.
Todos se cuedan que ferido es de muert.
La lanza recombrò è sobrél se paró.

Dixo Gonzalo Asurez, nol' firgades por Dios.
Venzudo es el campo quando esto se acabó.

amining, in the next chapter, the romances or ballads of the Cid, we shall meet with some circumstances relative to the death of the Spanish hero.

CHAPTER XXIV.

SPANISH POETRY OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.-ROMANCES OF THE CID.

THE Cid has already occupied much of our time, nor can we yet dismiss him. This hero, who was more instrumental than even the princes whom he served, in founding the monarchy of Castile, and who, during the course of his long life, led the conquering arms of his sovereign over nearly a quarter of Spain, is intimately connected with all our ideas of the glory, the love, and the chivalry of the Spanish nation. In the foreground of their history and of their poetry, the Cid stands conspicuous, while the renown of his name fills the age in which he lived. So dear, indeed, is his memory to the Spaniards, that the form of their most sacred and irrevocable adjuration is derived from his name; affe' de Rodrigo, by the faith of Rodrigo, says the Spaniard, who would strengthen his promise by recalling the ancient loyalty of this hero.

It is said that the original Chronicle of the Cid was written in Arabic a few years after his death, by two of his pages, who were Musulmans, and that from this chronicle, the poem of which we have given some extracts was taken, as well as the romances which we are about to notice, and many of the most admired tragedies on the same subject in the Spanish drama. The poem, though a most Christian performance, bears some traces of its Arabic origin. The style in which the Divinity is spoken of, and the epithets which are applied to him, bear traces of a Moorish, rather than of a Catholic pen. He is called the Father of Spirits, the Divine Creator, and other names, which, as they are sufficiently accordant with Christian notions, the poet has preserved, although they betray their Musulman origin. This poem, which is anterior by a hundred and fifty years to the immortal composition of Dante, bears evident marks of its venerable antiquity. It is without pretension and without art, but full of the finest nature, and gives an excellent idea of the people of that age,

so different from those of our own. We live amongst them, as it were, and our minds are the more completely captivated, because we know that the author had no design to paint a brilliant picture. Just as he found them, the poet has exposed them to our view, without the least desire to make an exhibition of them. The incidents which strike us, bore no extraordinary character in his eyes. There was to him no distinction between the manners of his heroes and of his readers, and the simplicity of the representation, which supplies the place of talent, produces a more powerful effect.

With regard to the versification, I scarcely know any production more completely barbarous. Many of the lines are Alexandrines, that is, lines of fourteen syllables, with a cæsura on the sixth, which is accentuated; but many others consist of fifteen, or even eighteen syllables, so that the author seems to have arranged his expressions without ever attempting to adapt them to his metre. Many of the lines are doubtless altered by transcribers, but more have been left unfinished by the poet himself.

The rhyme alone enables the reader to discover that the composition is in verse, though even that is so barbarous, that sometimes we have considerable difficulty in ascertaining its existence. The Spaniards distinguish their rhymes into consonant and assonant rhymes. The latter, as we have formerly explained them, consist in the repetition of the same vowel. When the Spaniards had become more familiar with poetical composition, and had laid down certain rules of art, the assonant rhymes became as regular as the consonant. If the rhyme was not complete, being only framed from the vowels of the two last syllables, it was prolonged, and all the second verses of the romance were terminated by the same assonant rhymes. In the poem of the Cid, the assonants are very incomplete, and fail to satisfy the ear. The poet rhymes the same vowel for fifteen, twenty, or even thirty lines, until he fatigues himself in endeavouring to discover more words suited to his purpose, and he is thus compelled to abandon his former for some new rhyme, which in its turn must share the same fate. This was the infancy of versification, of poetry, and of language in Spain, but it was the manhood of national spirit and of heroism.

Before entering upon the romances of the Cid, which were