'Is then your valor, Cid, forlorn?

Was it for this, that you of such high race were born?
Forward! now forward, Cid! here tarry thou no more,
For that shall turn to joy, which sorrow was before;
He who
gave us souls to feel, shall give us counsel sure."

Again, in the following description of a battle with the Moors, there is great energy:

"Then his mighty voice was heard, who was born in happy hour, 'Come onward, onward, knights, for the sake of charity,

For I am Ruy Diaz-the Cid-then follow me.'

* "Pasando va la noch, viniendo la mañana
Ellos mediados gallos piensan de cavalgar
Tañen à matynes à una priesa tan grand.
Mio Cid è su mugier à la Eglesia van.
Echo's Doña Ximena en los grados delantel altar
Rogando al Criador quanto ella meior sabe.

Tu eres Rey de los Reyes è de todel mundo Padre,
A ti adoro e creo de toda voluntad,

E ruego à San Peydro que me ayude a rogar,
Por mio Cid el Campeador quo Dios le curie de mal.
Quando hoy nos partimos en vida nos faz iuntar.
La Oracion fecha la Misa acabada la han,
Salieron dela Eglesia ya quieren cavalgar,
El Cid à Doña Ximena ybala abrazar
Doña Ximena al Cid la manol 'va besar,

Lorando de los oios que non sabe
E el á las niñas tornolas à catar,

A Dios vos acomiendo fijas

que se far.

E a la mugier è al padre Espiritual.
Agora nos partimos Dios sabe el aiuntar.
Lorando de los oios que non viestes a tal;
Asi's parten unos d'otros como la uña dela carne.
Mio Cid con los sos vasallos pensó de cavalgar;
A todos esperando la cabeza tornando va :
A tan gran sabor fabló Minaya Alvar Fanez
Cid! do son vuestros esfuerzos?

En buen ora nasquiestes de madre:
Pensemos de ir nuestra via esto sea de vagar:
Aun todos estos duelos en gozo se tornarán
Dios
que nos dió las almas conseio nos darâ."

They hurry to the spot, where Bermuez advances

Three hundred banners, hung on three hundred waving lances.
The Moors were scattered all-compelled to die or yield;
They wheel-as many more lie humbled on the field.
You might have seen their weapons dazzling there,
Their crossing spears all mingled in the air.

Their shields in rapid motion, their shining coats of mail
To the brandished sabres yielding, as things of no avail;
And many a pennon white in crimson gore dyed deep,
And many a noble horse without his rider sweep

The field—the Moors their prayers to Mahomet address'd,
And the Christians to Saint James."*

There is a remarkably fine passage where the Cid summons his treacherous relations to answer for their perfidy before the Cortes; and the description of the encounter between the Infantes of Carrion and the Defenders of the Hero has been often referred to as full of energy and truth.

"Each thinks now of himself, and of himself alone;

They seize their shields, those shields their valiant bosoms cover:
They bend their lances down, with their pennons flying over;
They look upon their steeds, and their harness in their pride,
And their spurs have entered deep their fiery horses' side,
And the earth beneath them trembles, trembles at their feet:
Each, each, must stand alone for his honor to provide;
For three 'gainst three, in close encounter now they meet.

Antonio puts his hand upon his sword so bright,
It dazzled like the sun, it filled the field with light."†

* "A grandes voces lama, el que en buen ora nasco,
Feridlos caballeros por amor de caridad,

Yo so Ruy Diaz, el Cid Campeador de Bibar.
Todos fieren en el han do esta Pero Bermuez
Trescientas lanzas son todas tienen pendones:
Sennos Moros matáron todos de sennos colpes:
Ala tornada que facen otros tantos son:
Veriedes tantas lanzas premer e alzar.

Tanta adarga a foradar e pasar,

Tanta loriga falsa desmanchar

Tantos pendones blancos salir bermeios en sangre,
Tantos buenos cavallos sin los duenos andar

Los Moros laman Mafomat, los Cristianos Sanctiague."

"Cada uno de ellos mientes tiene al so
Abrazan los escudos delant los corazones

But not for their poetic merits alone, or principally, are these early fragments interesting. They are most valuable historical documents-they are admirable illustrations of manners and character-they introduce us to the daily concerns of those who lived so many centuries ago; and though rude and unpolished, the portraitures of the individuals introduced are singularly bold and vivid. The blind obedience to kingly authority -the influence of the priests-the disorganized state of society, are strikingly developed. There is little of the machinery of the epic; and powerful description, rather than fanciful decoration, distinguishes them. The Cid is usually called "The born in happy hour." Over all there is spread a spirit of rude devotion-a constant appeal to the Heavenly Creator, to Holy Mary, Jesus, and the Saints.

The versification is irregular and imperfect. A syllable or two, too much or too little, never perplexes the author. Asonantes and consonantes are frequently blended, and seem not to have been distinguished by the ear of the writer. The Poema del Cid has many examples of that species of rhyme which became universal in the following century, viz. couplets of four lines with the same rhyme, as for example:

"Notó los Don Martino sin peso los tomaba

Los otros trecientos en oro gelos paraba

Cinco escuderos tiene Don Martino à todos los cargaba
Quando esto ovo fecho odredes lo que fablaba."

There is often too a verbal repetition of the same stanzas, and especially where the lines are such as the writer regarded with particular self-complacency.

As a specimen of the then state of the language of Spain, these early poems are most valuable. So undetermined does it appear, that no less than four words are employed as the third person singular of the perfect tense of the verb nacer; nado, násco, nasció, nació. A number of Arabic words,-Acaiaz (señor), seid, (cid) alfaya (gift), almofalla (army), almofar (coif), axobda (centinel), &c. now obsolete, are used. The construc

Abaxan las lanzas abueltas con los pendones
Enclinaban las caras sobre los arzones
Batien los cavallos en los espolones

Tembrar querie la tierra dod eran movedores
Cada uno dellos mientes tiene al so

Todos tres por tres ya juntados son.

Martin Antolinez mano metio al espada

Relumbra todel campo: tanto es limpia è clara."

tion is more of a Latin character, and a variety of Latin words are employed, which are no longer understood in Spain: Allaudar (allaudare), monedado (monedatus, Du Cange), cingir (cingere), cuer (cor), dona (pl. donum), eguar (equare), finiestra (fenestra), glera (sea-shore), exir (exire), jogado (jocatus), plorra (plorare), regno (regnum), remaner (remanere), si (sic), toller (tollere), ullo (ullus), &c.

In the following century, Don Gonzalo de Berceo and Don Juan Lorenzo contributed not a little to give character and precision to Castillian poetry. The following verses of the former will serve admirably well for a comparison with those of the latter which we had before occasion to quote. (iii. 283),

"To me it once befel, when in Romeria (a) gone,

To tread a fertile plain, with greenest turf o'ergrown,
And many and many a flower was o'er its bosom thrown;
It was, indeed, a spot to bless a weary one.

The flowers gave forth the sweets which sweetest flowrets hold,
Refreshing soul and sense with the fragrance they unfold;
And the streams rolled wandering on, rejoicing as they roll'd,
In the chilly winter warm, in the summer season cold.

And

many a noble tree put forth its riches there, The granate and the fig, the apple and the pear,

And other various fruits, salubrious and rare,

All in their richest bloom—all fresh, and sweet, and fair.

"Yo Maestro Gonzalo de Berceo nomnado

Iendo en Romeria caeci en un prado
Verde e bien sencido de flores bien poblado
Logar cobdiciaduero para ome cansado.

Daban olor sobeio las flores bien olientes
Refrescaban en ome las caras y las mientes
Manaban cada canto fuentes claras corrientes
En verano bien frias en yvierno calientes.

Avie hy grand abondo de buenas arboledas
Milgranose figueras, pero e mazanedas
E muchas otras fructas de deversas monedas
Mas non avie ningunas podridas nin aredas.

(a) Romeria; a joyous pilgrimage made to some shrine, or in honor of some saint.

The verdure of the fields, the flowers so gay and sweet, The shade beneath the trees so cool and soft, and meet, Refreshed my wearied frame, and eased my tottering feet; Life well might be sustained by breath so exquisite.

I never, never saw so privileged a spot,

Or felt so soft a breeze, or such a calm cool grot;

I threw my garments down, and wrapt in gentle thought,
Lay 'neath a lovely tree, and blessed my happy lot.

A thousand thoughts of joy and peace came o'er me then,
Birds sung melodiously, in one consenting strain,
Such harmony was ne'er produced by mortal men,
And music powers shall ne'er create such sounds again.

And now 'twas gently soft, and now 'twas boldly loud,
And now one voice was heard, and now a choir-like crowd;
The charm of song was there, and all submissive bow'd,
And discord fled, for all with music were endow'd.

The organ or the harp, the psaltery or the lyre,
The tongue's clear melody, and the accordant quire;
Art's instruments-these never could inspire

Such harmony of soul, such satisfied desire.

La verdura del prado, la olor de las flores,
Las sombras de los arbores, de temprados sabores
Refrescaronme todo, e perdi los sudores;

Podrie vevir el ome con aquillos olores.

Nunqua trobé en sieglo logar tan deleytoso
Nin sombra tan temprada, nin olor tan sabroso
Descargue mi ropiella por iacer mas vicioso
Poseme a la sombra de un arbor fermoso.

Yaciendo a la sombra perdi todos cuidados
Odi sones de aves dulces è modulados
Nunqua udieron omes organos mas temprados
Nin que pudiessen sones mas acordados.

Unas tenien la quinta è las otras doblában,
Otras tenien el punto, errar no las dexaban,
posar, al mover todas se esperaban,
Aves torpes nin roncas hi non se acostaban.

Al

Non serie organista, nin serie violero,
Nin giga, nin salterio, nin manoderotero,