"And as he was about to depart, he looked back upon his own home, and when he saw his hall deserted, the household chests unfastened, the doors open, no cloaks hanging up, no seats in the porch, no hawks upon the perches, the tears came into his eyes, and he said 'My enemies have done this. God be praised for all things.' And he turned toward the East, and knelt and said, 'Holy Mary Mother, and all Saints, pray to God for me, that he may give me strength to destroy all the Pagans, and to win enough from them to requite my friends therewith, and all those who follow and help me.' -P. 97.

In passing through Burgos, no one dared to receive him into his house, the King having given strict command to the contrary; and such sorrow had the Christian people at obeying these severe injunctions, that they durst not look upon the champion as he rode through the solitary streets of their city. When he came to his posada, or hotel, and struck against the door with his foot, none made answer but a little girl of nine years old, who informed him of the King's command. He turned in silence from the door of the inn, rode to the church of St Mary, where "he kneeled down, and prayed with all his heart," and then encamped with his retinue on the sands near the eity. There is something very striking in this picture-the silence with which the Cid receives his unjust sentence-the dignity with which he contemns the mean effort of the King to increase his distress and embarrassment;-the desolate state to which the city is reduced by the fear and pity of the inhabitants at his approach—the military train slowly parading its streets, and seeking in vain for hospitality or repose ;-the swelling heart of the leader venting itself in devotion, when he saw every

house, but that of God, shut against him, are all beautiful and affecting circumstances. The next scene is of a very different nature, yet equally curious.

The Cid, like other great persons, setting out upon travel, was in great want of money to maintain his followers. And now we venture to supply an incident from the romances, which, though characteristic, Mr Southey has omitted. We copy it from a slip-shod translation, which we happen. to possess, and which may serve for a sample of these ballads.

"When the Cid, the Campeador
(Of his life may God take care),
With three hundred pennon'd warriors
Forth of good Castile would fare;
Nor the champion, nor his lady,
Had of treasure, coin, or rent,
Even a single maravedi ;
All in war and wassaill spent.

Then Ximene took off her garland,
Glittering like the stars of heaven,
Deck'd with gems from Eastern far land,
Which the Moorish Kings had given;
Take then this, my Roderigo;
Pledged in wealthy merchant's hand,
'Twill supply thee gold, while we go
Wanderers far in foreign land.'

Sola and her little sister,
Daughters of the noble Cid,
When they saw the chaplet's glister
Taken from their mother's head,
Wept to part with such gay jewel,
Clamour'd loud around Ximene ;
'Must such garland, O, how cruel,
From our mother dear be ta'en?'

Mark'd the Cid their childish sorrow,

Heard them murmur in dismay :
'Grief enough may come to-morrow,
Give our babes their boon to-day.
Children weep for toys that glitter,
Kings and kaisars do the same:
Why their blithest days embitter?
Keep thy garland, gentle dame.'

Loud their hands the children clapping,
As their father's doom they heard,
And their arms around him wrapping,
Kist his cheeks, and strok'd his beard."

Mr Southey omits this curious trait of parental tenderness, which we think peculiarly characteristic of the hero, as those who are bravest and even fiercest in war are often distinguished by unlimited indulgence to the objects of their domestic attach

ments.

The resource from which the Cid drew his supplies was of a questionable description, and not very dissimilar from the devices of our modern knights of industry. He sent one of his adherents, Martin Antolinez, to two wealthy Jews, named Rachael and Vidas, to demand the loan of six hundred merks, upon two chests of treasure, which the Cid meant to deposit in their hands. The sons of Israel lent a willing ear to such a proposal, but when the merks were demanded, they sagaciously observed, that "their way of business was first to take and then to give." Antolinez conducted them to the tent of the Campeador, who dazzled their optics with the exhibition of two huge and heavy chests, covered with leather of red and gold, and

secured with ribs of iron, but filled in truth with stones and sand. The Jews, forgetting the caution of their tribe, willingly agreed to advance the sum demanded on a deposit of such a promising aspect; and swore at the same time to keep the chests a full year without opening. So highly delighted were the Israelites with the bargain, that Antolinez contrived to hook out of them thirty merks for agency, to buy himself a pair of hose, a doublet, and a rich cloak. It is not the least curious part of this story, that when the Cid acquired wealth in the Moorish wars, and sent to redeem the chests with a Spanish hyperbole that they contained his honour, which was the richest treasure in the world, "the people held it for a great wonder; and there was not a place in all Burgos where they did not talk of the gentleness and loyalty of the Cid." The Jews themselves also expressed such grateful surprise as makes it plain that in the ordinary course of things, they would have been left by way of punishment for looking so indifferently after their own interest in the outset of the bargain, to indemnify themselves by the deposit. Nay, we grieve to say, that some contradictory authorities make it not improbable that the Cid consigned them to the doleful predicament of their kinsman, Shylock, to console themselves with the penalty of the bond.

The Cid, thus furnished with munition and money, sets forth against the Moors, leaving his wife and children in the charge of the Abbot of St Pedro de Cardena. It is not our intention to trace his

military exploits, in which there is frequently vivid description, but which nevertheless, from the similarity of incident, are the dullest part of this volume. The following most excellent and spirited, as well as literal translation from the poem of the Cid, is given in the notes. It is not from the pen of Mr Southey, but from that of a literary friend, who has caught the true tone of the Spanish Homer. The Cid, with his followers, sallies from the Castle of Alcoçer, where they were besieged by the Moors.

*The gates were then thrown open, and forth at once they rush'd,
The outposts of the Moorish host back to the camp were push'd;
The camp was all in tumult, and there was such a thunder
Of cymbals and of drums, as if earth would cleave in sunde..
There you might see the Moors arming themselves in has,
And the two main battles how they were forming fast;
Horsemen and footmen mixt, a countless troop and vast.
The Moors are moving forward, the battle soon must join,
My men, stand here in order, rang'd upon a line!
Let not a man move from his rank before I give the sign.'
Pero Bermuez heard the word, but he could not refrain.
He held the banner in his hand, he gave his horse the rein;
'You see yon foremost squadron there, the thickest of the foes,
Noble Cid, God be your aid, for there your banner goes!

Let him that serves and honours it show the duty that he owes.'
Earnestly the Cid call'd out, For heaven's sake be still!'
Bermuez cried, 'I cannot hold,' so eager was his will.
He spurr'd his horse, and drove him on amid the Moorish rout;
They strove to win the banner, and compast him about.

Had not his armour been so true he had lost either life or limb;
The Cid called out again, For heaven's sake succour him!'

6

Their shields before their breasts, forth at once they go,

Their lances in the rest levell'd fair and low;

Their banners and their crests waving in a row,
Their heads all stooping down toward the saddle-bow.
The Cid was in the midst, his shout was heard afar,
"I am Rui Diaz, the Champion of Bivar;