THE OATH IN SANTA GADEA

There is unusual excitement in Burgos; very many persons crowd in from the neighbouring villages on all sides of the city, and streets and squares are thronged by the crowds, on whose visages both fear and curiosity are expressed. The place, however, where the crush is greatest, is outside the city, in the direction of the Leon road; many thousands of people of all ages and conditions hasten thither, and direct their looks, with avidity, towards a road which, at about half-an-hour's walk from the city, becomes lost on the summit of a hill, which limits the horizon. Whom do those people of Burgos expect? Let us see if, amongst the crowds, we can find any of our old acquaintances, who may be able to fully satisfy our curiosity. Men and women, nobles, peasants, and townspeople are everywhere, in the centre of the road, and on the raised banks beside it, on the trees and on the adjacent hills, all impatient, and all weary already of waiting; however, we see no one that we know, not even the peasant from Barbadillo, whose curiosity is as proverbial in Burgos as that of his friend IÑigo, and whose conjugal affairs amuse so much the townspeople, since the day they saw him disown his wife at the door of the mansion of the lords of Vivar. But is not that his wife,—the wife of Bartolo,—that handsome peasant woman, who is walking with a young man on the summit of the low hill? Yes, it is she. And is not Alvar the youth who is in such good humour, and who is laughing with her? It is Alvar, no doubt of that. She does not now seem disposed to refuse, with blows, as she used to do at the smithy of IÑigo, the flowers which the daring page presented to her.

"It is a long time now," said Alvar, "that I sigh for you and bear the insults of your husband, and you have not rewarded me even with a little embrace! Tyrant! Does a lover, as faithful as I have been, merit such poor pay? Does my love, perchance, displease you?"

"I only wish I were not a married woman, as you are such a gentle youth, and not a fool like my husband; but, as long as Bartolo lives, your efforts will be in vain, and those also of the squire, Fernan, who makes love to me, as well as you."

"Accursed be my ill fortune!" said Alvar, stamping on the ground. "It is on account of that Fernan, and not on account of your husband, that you respond so badly to my love."

"I respond to Fernan just the same as to you."

"So, you are pleased with his graces?"

"Why should not his please me as much as yours?"

"But don't mine please you? Reward me, if it is so."

"But those of Fernan merit an equal reward."

"Oh, how unfortunate I am with the women!" said Alvar, despairing of ever seeing his love requited by the peasant woman.

Whilst she and the page were thus conversing in a field beside the road, Bartolo himself was struggling to make his way through the crowd, looking anxiously in all directions, as if he were seeking someone.

"Oh, SeÑor Bartolo, come here, as I have great news for you!" cried out a man, who was resisting the rushing of the waves, formed by the multitude, firmly planted against the trunk of a tree. That man was the soldier who, on a former occasion, had so courteously explained to him what was going on between the servitors of the Cid; but Bartolo either did not hear him, or paid no attention to his words.

"SeÑor peasant, come here, and I shall relate strange news to you," persisted the soldier.

"I don't want your news," replied Bartolo at last. "I am looking for my wife. The jade has escaped from my house, and I swear that, if I catch her, she'll have to bear more wood than a miller's ass"—

"But what I have to tell you is about your wife."

"About my wife? Where is the slut?"

"Look at her over there in the field, amusing herself with one of her lovers."

"San Pedro de CardeÑa, preserve me!" exclaimed the peasant, looking in the direction which the soldier had pointed out to him.

"Ha, ha, ha! I stick to what I always said—that is, that women are no great things," said the soldier, laughing maliciously.

"I swear by all that's holy!" muttered the rustic, breaking suddenly through the crowd in the direction of the hill. "My wife was a simpleton in Barbadillo, but no person ever said a word against her honour. A curse on this city and all the news that can be got out of it! Since I came to Burgos I have never had an easy day. Treacherous women! my wife is a deceiver! I swear that, this very day, she shall return to Barbadillo, with more blows than she has hairs on her head, and neither she nor I shall ever leave the village again."

At last he arrived at the little hill, and making a short circuit, in order to take at the rear his wife and the page, who were still talking, to all appearance, very confidentially, he fell suddenly on them, and with a stick, which he had provided himself with, he began to belabour them furiously, his wife specially. Alvar only received one good stroke, for he managed to escape through the crowd as soon as he felt the peasant's stick on his back.

"I swear I'll kill you, traitress!" exclaimed Bartolo, without ceasing to chastise his wife.

"Woe is me, woe is me! this brute of a husband will kill me!" cried out the peasant woman. "Is there no one to defend me against the savage?"

"You barbarian!" cried the surrounding people, "do not maltreat a defenceless woman in such a way."

"I'll kill her, she is a jade!" replied Bartolo. And seizing his wife by one arm, he went off, dragging her along and exclaiming—

"To Barbadillo, to Barbadillo! May Heaven's curse fall on cities!"

This incident had amused the impatient crowd for a short time; but, as soon as it terminated, all turned their gazes again towards the hill on which the Leon road was lost to view.

"If Don Alfonso learned that no banners would be hung out in his honour until he takes the oath," said one of the bystanders, "he has certainly stopped on his way to raise men to accompany him, and aid him in imposing his will on the Castilians."

"What Don Alfonso has to do," replied another, "is to swear, if he can do so with a good conscience; if not, he must only rest content with the kingdom of Leon which he already possesses, for honourable men will not be wanting to govern Castile, as in the time of the Judges."

"There is one thing certain, and that is, if Don Alfonso tries to put down Castile by force, he engages in a bad business; and let him beware lest he have neither one kingdom nor the other."

"God's anger! If the Cid raises his Green Standard and cries, 'Castilians! we are honourable, and he who governs us must also be honourable; we shall have no king suspected of having shed his brother's blood. Rise with me to defend the honour of our native land!' you will then see how all Castile will spring up and seize on the kingdom of Leon, and Don Alfonso will have to go and demand hospitality from the Moors."

"I believe that he will not refuse to take the oath, for it is impossible that he can have had any part in the death of Don Sancho. Don Alfonso was always a good cavalier; he may have wanted prudence, he may have lent his ears to evil councillors, he may have been weak, but fratricide—I can't believe that."

"What I believe, and what all believe, is that he will reject the oath, not on account of his conscience, but through pride; for, you see, the great always resent having conditions imposed on them by their inferiors."

"And especially when those conditions imply so infamous a suspicion as fratricide. But listen! What cries are those which arise? Is Don Alfonso approaching already? It must be, for all the people are crowding up on the hill."

Indeed, a body of men had been seen on the eminence which bounded the horizon, and on seeing them, the multitude became agitated, a prolonged murmur arose, and the people who were scattered in all directions began to make their way towards the main road. The strangers, who were in reality Don Alfonso and about a hundred horsemen, who formed his escort, were rapidly nearing Burgos. At last they came to the place where the crowds were awaiting them, and which then accompanied them, moving on at both sides of the road. They were about one hundred paces from the city, when, at its gate, the Castilian nobles appeared, bearing the Standard of Castile, veiled with black gauze. The nobles made a sign to Don Alfonso to halt, which he and his followers did: Rodrigo Diaz then advanced, and, having saluted, addressed Don Alfonso, not as a king but as a cavalier.

"Don Alfonso!" he said to him, "you are heir to the kingdom of Castile, and no person has any intention of disputing your rights. Castile is an honourable land, which always venerated and defended its sovereigns; but how can it venerate and defend them if it has not the fullest faith in their honour? We have always, in Castile, looked upon you as good and honourable; but now an infamous suspicion weighs upon you, and it is necessary to destroy it before this country, always loyal, raises its standards for you. You know already that the hand of an assassin deprived your brother of life at the siege of Zamora; although your antecedents justify you, circumstances cast upon you a terrible suspicion, which never should rest on him who wears a crown and who is called upon to rule an honourable and generous people. Well, then, in order that Castile may love and respect you, in order that the world may know that he who occupies the throne of Don Fernando the Great is worthy to occupy it, you must swear in Santa Gadea, with your hand on the holy Gospels, that you had no part in the death of Don Sancho."

Indignation had been colouring the visage of Don Alfonso whilst the Cid was thus speaking, and all the spectators, except Rodrigo, were trembling, seeing that he was about to burst out into anger.

"God's justice!" he then exclaimed, "who is it that dares to speak thus to me? Who is it that dares to demand of me this shameful oath?"

"Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar!" answered the Cid, not with haughty insolence, but respectfully and firmly.

"I would renounce, not only the kingdom of Castile, but even the empire of the entire world, rather than submit to the humiliation which you propose to me, Cid! Does any good cavalier suspect my loyalty to such a degree that he can suppose me to be an accomplice in the death of my brother? I cast in your face, and in the faces of all who think as you do, the infamy with which you desire to sully me!"

"Sire," replied the Cid, "by refusing to take the oath you afford fresh motives to those who suspect you"—

"Well, then," exclaimed Don Alfonso, interrupting Rodrigo, "let us get on to the church. But woe to those who insult me! Woe to those who dare to humiliate me, in a way that a king was never before humiliated!"

"After the oath," humbly replied Rodrigo, "you will be my king, and it will be in your power to dispose of my life and of my property as it may seem well to you; now, however, I willingly risk both in order to comply with the dictates of my conscience and of my honour."

Castilians and Leonese then proceeded to the Church of Santa Gadea, around the gates of which thronged the multitude, scarce able to repress the admiration with which they were filled by the abnegation and heroic firmness of the Cid.

He and Don Alfonso approached the altar, at the foot of which the prince knelt down, placing his hand on the Book of the Evangelists, which Rodrigo supported on his, whilst Don Diego OrdoÑez de Lara held the Standard of Castile at some distance, and all the nobles, wondering and timorous at the same time, contemplated the imposing scene. The populace, who crowded up to the entrance of the church, endeavouring to see what was taking place within it, kept silence, anxious to hear the oath of the prince, for whom, a moment after, they were about to raise their standards.

"Don Alfonso," said the Cid in a loud voice, "do you swear, on the holy Evangelists, that you had no part in the death of Don Sancho, your brother?"

"Yes, I swear it!" answered Don Alfonso.

"If you swear truly, may you be always happy and prosperous on this earth, and may you be safe from the torments of hell; but if your oath is false, may rustics of the Asturias of Oviedo kill you, and not those of Castile; may you die by shepherds' crooks and not by lances; may those who kill you be such as wear coarse sandals, and ride on asses, instead of mules or horses; may you meet your death in fields, and not in towns or villages; may your heart be dragged out through your left side; and may you descend to hell, to suffer there for ever!"

"Thus let it be," replied Don Alfonso, without, however, concealing the irritation which the daring of the Cid caused him.

Rodrigo then placed the Book of the Evangelists upon the altar, and when Don Alfonso arose, he bent his knee before him and kissed his hand; all the nobles who were present imitated him.

Don Diego OrdoÑez de Lara then pulled off the black gauze that had veiled the Standard, and went out with it to the porch of the cathedral, where he cried out three times—

"Castile for Don Alfonso!"

The populace repeated that cry with joy and enthusiasm, and in all quarters of the city standards were raised and proclamations issued, announcing that the throne of Castile was now occupied.

How different was the spectacle which Burgos offered on that day, compared with that on the preceding one, when all was uncertainty as to the future, sadness and mourning; now there were strong hopes of a prosperous, peaceful, just, and powerful reign; for Castile would be a large and powerful kingdom, as it had been in the time of Fernando the Great, and not limited and surrounded by rival states, as it was under Sancho II.

On account of that propitious event, the Castilian people were preparing to give themselves up to joyous festivities; enemy was disposed to hold out his hand to enemy, the rich to mitigate the hardships of the poor, and the king to grant liberal gifts to both nobles and civilians.

The rainbow, rich with brilliant hues, showed itself after the storm, and filled with gladness the souls of all the good Castilians.