Disturb my prayers? Starting they rose: there stood A man before them of majestic form
And stature, clad in sackcloth, bare of foot,
Pale, and in tears, with ashes on his head.
"Twas not in vain that on her absent son,
Pelayo's mother, from the bed of death,
Call'd for forgiveness, and in agony
Besought his prayers; all guilty as she was,
Sure he had not been human, if that cry
Had failed to pierce him. When he heard the tale
He blest the messenger, even while his speech
Was faltering,... while from head to foot he shook
With icy feelings from his inmost heart
Effused. It changed the nature of his woe,
Making the burthen more endurable :
The life-long sorrow that remained, became
A healing and a chastening grief, and brought
His soul, in close communion, nearer Heaven.
For he had been her first-born, and the love
Which at her breast he drew, and from her smiles,
And from her voice of tenderness imbibed,
Gave such unnatural horror to her crimes,
That when the thought came over him, it seemed As if the milk which with his infant life
Had blended, thrilled like poison through his frame.
It was a woe beyond all reach of hope,
Till with the dreadful tale of her remorse
Faith touched his heart; and ever from that day
Did he for her who bore him, night and morn,
Pour out the anguish of his soul in prayer :
But chiefly as the night returned, which heard
Her last expiring groans of penitence,
Then through the long and painful hours, before
The altar, like a penitent himself,
He kept his vigils; and when Roderick's sword
Subdued Witiza, and the land was free,
His yearly sacrifice of agony
And prayer. This was the night, and he it was
Who now before Siverian and the King
Recovering, and from wonder, knew him first.
It is the Prince! he cried, and bending down Embraced his knees. The action and the word Awakened Roderick; he shook off the load
Of struggling thoughts, which, pressing on his heart,
Held him like one entranced; yet, all untaught
To bend before the face of man, confused
Awhile he stood, forgetful of his part.
But when Siverian cried, My Lord, my Lord,
Now God be praised that I have found thee thus,
My Lord and Prince, Spain's only hope and mine!
Then Roderick, echoing him, exclaimed, My Lord,
And Prince, Pelayo !.. and approaching near,
He bent his knee obeisant: but his head
Earthward inclined; while the old man, looking up,
From his low gesture to Pelayo's face,
Wept at beholding him for grief and joy.
Siverian! cried the Chief, . . of whom hath Death Bereaved me, that thou comest to Cordoba?.. Children, or wife?.. Or hath the merciless scythe Of this abhorred and jealous tyranny
Made my house desolate at one wide sweep?
They are as thou couldst wish, the old man replied,
Wert thou but lord of thine own house again,
And Spain were Spain once more. A tale of ill
I bear, but one which touches not the heart
Like what thy fears forebode. The renegade
Numacian woos thy sister, and she lends
To the vile slave, unworthily, her ear:
The lady Gaudiosa hath in vain
Warned her of all the evils which await
A union thus accurst; she sets at nought
Her faith, her lineage, and thy certain wrath.
Pelayo hearing him, remained awhile
Silent; then turning to his mother's grave,..
O thou poor dust, hath then the infectious taint
Survived thy dread remorse, that it should run
In Guisla's veins? he cried;.. I should have heard
This shameful sorrow any where but here!..
Humble thyself, proud heart;.. thou, gracious Heaven,
Be merciful!..it is the original flaw,..
And what are we?..a weak unhappy race,
Born to our sad inheritance of sin
And death!.. He smote his forehead as he spake,
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