Ximena; and Bernardo del Carpio was the fruit of their intercourse. When Alfonso discovered the weakness of his sister, his indignation knew no bounds. He compelled Doña Ximena to assume the veil, and condemned Don Sancho to close imprisonment for life in the castle of Luna; and carefully concealing the secret of Bernardo's parentage, caused him to be suitably educated in the Asturias. Such is the extraction assigned to Bernardo by the Spanish chroniclers; and although historical critics deny that such persons as Bernardo, or his supposed parents, Sancho Diaz and Ximena, ever existed, yet traditionary and poetic lore assigns a most interesting and splendid career to Bernardo.

Nursed in the salubrious air of the mountains of Asturias, endowed by nature with a vigorous frame, and accustomed from early youth to every martial exercise, young Bernardo grew up to be a genuine hero of chivalry, valiant, trank, noble, and tender; and soon began to distinguish himself among his warlike countrymen, in their continual encounters with the Moors. In battle or tourney, none surpassed Bernardo; until he came to be deemed the champion of the Goths, among whom, uncertain of his actual birth, he was by many supposed to be the illegitimate son of the King himself. To this period relates the following ballad.

Bañando esta las prisiones.

Bathing in tears his prison bars,
And weeping life away,

The noble Count Don Sandiaz,
Saldaña's Señor, lay.

And thus, in solitude and wo,
He mourned his hapless lot,
Abandoned by his wife and King,
By Don Bernardo, too, forgot.

'The years that I have dragged along,

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'A prisoner in this loathsome cell,
'How many and how sad they've been,
"These hairs proclaim too well.

'The down of youth was on my lips,
'When first within these walls I came;
'But now these long white locks betray
'An age of sorrow, sin, and shame.

'What scorn is in thy heart, my son?
'The blood of mine, that fills thy veins,
'Should summon thee to rescue him,
'Who withers here in felon chains.

'Or is it that thy mother's blood,

" The blood of stern Alfonso's race, 'Stifles the voice of nature thus,

'And bids thee shun thy father's face?

'All, all are now Don Sancho's foes:-
'Wretch that I am! I well might pine,
'The victim of a stranger's crime;
'But not, my gallant son, of thine.

'From guard and castellain I hear
'The story of thy chivalry :-

'For whom should be thy feats of arms,
'For whom, if none are wrought for me?

'And since, to set thy father free,
'No knightly deed by thee is done,
'Or I a wicked sire must be,

'Or thou a most unworthy son.

'But thou in fields of fame afar
'Playest the valiant soldier's part:
'Forgive me, if, in age or grief,

'I wrong thy nobleness of heart.'

But Bernardo still remained ignorant of the secret of his birth, and of course was guilty of no unnatural neglect of his imprisoned father. His true parentage was at length communicated to him by Elvira Sanchez, his nurse. Know, said she, Bernardo, that thou art not the offspring of the King, Don Alfonso. Thy mother was Doña Ximena, and thy father the Count of Saldaña, who lies imprisoned in the castle of Luna; and men cast reproaches on thy name, that thou sufferest the good Count to remain in durance, affliction, and slighted old age. Enough, cried Bernardo; thy tale suffices to stimulate the son of so noble a sire.

Al cielo vuelve los ojos.

He lifts to heaven his weeping eyes;
And o'er his fair but manly cheeks,

While tears of rage and sorrow flow,

Gnashing his teeth, 'tis thus he speaks :

'Followers and friends, if this be so,

'Bernardo's war-cry will disown,
'And leave me mid the battling Moors,
'Captive, or slain, or smitten down.

'My steed will fling me from his back,

And trample me beneath the host; 'And in the fight my own right arm 'Will fail me when I need it most.

'And if Alfonso give not me

'My honored sire, Saldaña's lord, 'I'll beard the tyrant on his throne,

'And waste his realm with fire and sword.'

But, before proceeding to such extremities, Bernardo very nobly resolves that he will endeavor to earn the deliverance of his father, by such patriotic acts, and such exertions of devoted loyalty, that Alfonso, for very shame, shall be compelled to grant the boon he seeks. And a fitting opportunity speedily occurred for displaying his prowess.

The Emperor Charlemagne, invited by some discontented Arab chief, had undertaken the conquest of the Peninsula. His thirst of empire might have been disguised to his own conscience, perhaps, by the glorious prospect of delivering Spain from the yoke of the Mohammedans, who, indeed, from their inroads into Gaul, and conquest of some of its provinces, were sufficiently dangerous neighbors, and very suitable objects of attack. Unfortunately, the last remnants of the Christian lords of Spain held the mountains of Asturias and Biscay, immediately contiguous to Aquitaine; and as they refused allegiance to Charlemagne, they were forced to bear the first brunt of the Emperor's arms. He marched one army into Catalonia through Roussillon,

and led another himself across the western Pyrenees into Navarre. Barcelona, Girona, Zaragoza and other cities, then possessed by the Moors, submitted to his arms, including most of the country between the Pyrenees and the Ebro; but in Navarre he encountered an obstinate resistance. Gaining possession at last of Pampeluna, he levelled its walls with the ground so that when a revolt of his Saxon subjects compelled him to repair to Germany with all his forces, abandoning his Spanish conquests, the Christians of Navarre were almost the only inhabitants of the Peninsula, who had seriously suffered by the invasion; and a powerful band of mcuntaineers, Navarrese, Biscayans, Asturians, and if tradition may be credited, Leonese also, hung on the retreating Franks, and waylaying their army in the defiles of Roncesvalles, cut off the rear guard, says Eginhard, to a man. The Arabs, also, lay claim to the honor of this victory; and it is probable that, as often happened in the revolutions of those times, Christians and Moors united, in order at this time to be revenged of the invading Franks. Such is the history.

It would further appear that Alfonso, whether from despair of maintaining his kingdom against the Moors, or from inability to cope with Charlemagne, or from his unwillingness to raise up heirs to the crown of Leon of his own body, was disposed to purchase peace by acknowledging himself the vassal of Charlemagne. But the love of independence