Pelayo and the Merchant's Daughter

by Washington Irving

　　BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.

　　It is the common lamentation of Spanish historiographers, that, for anobscure and melancholy space of time immediately succeeding the conquestof their country by the Moslems, its history is a mere wilderness ofdubious facts, groundless fables, and rash exaggerations. Learned men,in cells and cloisters, have worn out their lives in vainly endeavoringto connect incongruous events, and to account for startlingimprobabilities, recorded of this period. The worthy Jesuit, PadreAbarca, declares that, for more than forty years during which he hadbeen employed in theological controversies, he had never found any soobscure and inexplicable as those which rise out of this portion ofSpanish history, and that the only fruit of an indefatigable, prolix,and even prodigious study of the subject, was a melancholy andmortifying state of indecision.[Footnote: PADRE PEDRO ABARCA. Analesde Aragon, Anti Regno, F2.] During this apocryphal period, flourishedPELAYO, the deliverer of Spain, whose name, like that of WilliamWallace, will ever be linked with the glory of his country, but linked,in like manner, by a bond in which fact and fiction are inextricablyinterwoven.The quaint old chronicle of the Moor Rasis, which, though wild andfanciful in the extreme, is frequently drawn upon for early facts bySpanish historians, professes to give the birth, parentage, and wholecourse of fortune of Pelayo, without the least doubt or hesitation. Itmakes him a son of the Duke of Cantabria, and descended, both by fatherand mother's side, from the Gothic kings of Spain. I shall pass over theromantic story of his childhood, and shall content myself with a sceneof his youth, which was spent in a castle among the Pyrenees, underthe eye of his widowed and noble-minded mother, who caused him to beinstructed in everything befitting a cavalier of gentle birth. While thesons of the nobility were revelling amid the pleasures of a licentiouscourt, and sunk in that vicious and effeminate indulgence which ledto the perdition of unhappy Spain, the youthful Pelayo, in his ruggedmountain school, was steeled to all kinds of hardy exercise. A greatpart of his time was spent in hunting the bears, the wild boars, and thewolves, with which the Pyrenees abounded; and so purely and chastely washe brought up, by his good lady mother, that, if the ancient chroniclefrom which I draw my facts may be relied on, he had attained hisone-and-twentieth year, without having once sighed for woman!Nor were his hardy contests confined to the wild beasts of the forest.Occasionally he had to contend with adversaries of a more formidablecharacter. The skirts and defiles of these border mountains were ofteninfested by marauders from the Gallic plains of Gascony. The Gascons,says an old chronicler, were a people who used smooth words whenexpedient, but force when they had power, and were ready to lay theirhands on every thing they met. Though poor, they were proud; for therewas not one who did not pride himself on being a hijo-dalgo, or the sonof somebody.At the head of a band of these needy hijodalgos of Gascony, was oneArnaud, a broken-down cavalier. He and four of his followers were wellarmed and mounted; the rest were a set of scamper-grounds on foot,furnished with darts and javelins. They were the terror of the border;here to-day and gone to-morrow; sometimes in one pass, sometimes inanother. They would make sudden inroads into Spain, scour the roads,plunder the country, and were over the mountains and far away before aforce could be collected to pursue them.Now it happened one day, that a wealthy burgher of Bordeaux, who was amerchant, trading with Biscay, set out on a journey for that province.As he intended to sojourn there for a season, he took with him hiswife, who was a goodly dame, and his daughter, a gentle damsel, ofmarriageable age, and exceeding fair to look upon. He was attended by atrusty clerk from his comptoir, and a man servant; while another servantled a hackney, laden with bags of money, with which he intended topurchase merchandise.When the Gascons heard of this wealthy merchant and his convoy passingthrough the mountains, they thanked their stars, for they consideredall peaceful men of traffic as lawful spoil, sent by providence for thebenefit of hidalgos like themselves, of valor and gentle blood, wholived by the sword. Placing themselves in ambush, in a lonely defile, bywhich the travellers had to pass, they silently awaited their coming. Ina little while they beheld them approaching. The merchant was a fair,portly man, in a buff surcoat and velvet cap. His looks bespoke the goodcheer of his native city, and he was mounted on a stately, well-fedsteed, while his wife and daughter paced gently on palfreys by his side.The travellers had advanced some distance in the defile, when theBandoleros rushed forth and assailed them. The merchant, though butlittle used to the exercise of arms, and unwieldy in his form, yet madevaliant defence, having his wife and daughter and money-bags at hazard.He was wounded in two places, and overpowered; one of his servants wasslain, the other took to flight.The freebooters then began to ransack for spoil, but were disappointedat not finding the wealth they had expected. Putting their swords to thebreast of the trembling merchant, they demanded where he had concealedhis treasure, and learned from him of the hackney that was following,laden with, money. Overjoyed at this intelligence, they bound theircaptives to trees, and awaited the arrival of the golden spoil.On this same day, Pelayo was out with his huntsmen among the mountains,and had taken his stand on a rock, at a narrow pass, to await thesallying forth of a wild boar. Close by him was a page, conducting ahorse, and at the saddle-bow hung his armor, for he was always preparedfor fight among these border mountains. While thus posted, the servantof the merchant came flying from the robbers. On beholding Pelayo, hefell on his knees, and implored his life, for he supposed him to beone of the band. It was some time before he could be relieved from histerror, and made to tell his story. When Pelayo heard of the robbers,he concluded they were the crew of Gascon hidalgos, upon the scamper.Taking his armor from the page, he put on his helmet, slung his bucklerround his neck, took lance in hand, and mounting his steed, compelledthe trembling servant to guide him to the scene of action. At the sametime he ordered the page to seek his huntsmen, and summon them to hisassistance.When the robbers saw Pelayo advancing through the forest, with a singleattendant on foot, and beheld his rich armor sparkling in the sun, theythought a new prize had fallen into their hands, and Arnaud and two ofhis companions, mounting their horses, advanced to meet him. As theyapproached, Pelayo stationed himself in a narrow pass between two rocks,where he could only be assailed in front, and bracing his buckler, andlowering his lance, awaited their coming."Who and what are ye," cried he, "and what seek ye in this land?""We are huntsmen," replied Arnaud, "and lo! our game runs into ourtoils!""By my faith," replied Pelayo, "thou wilt find the game more readilyroused than taken: have at thee for a villain!"So saying, he put spurs to his horse, and ran full speed upon him. TheGascon, not expecting so sudden an attack from a single horseman, wastaken by surprise. He hastily couched his lance, but it merely glancedon the shield of Pelayo, who sent his own through the middle of hisbreast, and threw him out of his saddle to the earth. One of the otherrobbers made at Pelayo, and wounded him slightly in the side, butreceived a blow from the sword of the latter, which cleft his skull-cap,and sank into his brain. His companion, seeing him fall, put spurs tohis steed, and galloped off through the forest.Beholding several other robbers on foot coming up, Pelayo returned tohis station between the rocks, where he was assailed by them all atonce. He received two of their darts on his buckler, a javelin razed hiscuirass, and glancing down, wounded his horse. Pelayo then rushed forth,and struck one of the robbers dead: the others, beholding severalhuntsmen advancing, took to flight, but were pursued, and several ofthem taken.The good merchant of Bordeaux and his family beheld this scene withtrembling and amazement, for never had they looked upon such feats ofarms. They considered Don Pelayo as a leader of some rival band ofrobbers; and when the bonds were loosed by which they were tied tothe trees, they fell at his feet and implored mercy. The females weresoonest undeceived, especially the daughter; for the damsel was struckwith the noble countenance and gentle demeanor of Pelayo, and said toherself: "Surely nothing evil can dwell in so goodly and gracious aform."Pelayo now sounded his horn, which echoed from rock to rock, and wasanswered by shouts and horns from various parts of the mountains. Themerchant's heart misgave him at these signals, and especially when hebeheld more than forty men gathering from glen and thicket. They wereclad in hunters' dresses, and armed with boar-spears, darts, andhunting-swords, and many of them led hounds in long leashes. All thiswas a new and wild scene to the astonished merchant; nor were his fearsabated, when he saw his servant approaching with the hackney, laden withmoney-bags; "for of a certainty," said he to himself, "this will be tootempting a spoil for these wild hunters of the mountains."Pelayo, however, took no more notice of the gold than if it had beenso much dross; at which the honest burgher marvelled exceedingly. Heordered that the wounds of the merchant should be dressed, and his ownexamined. On taking off his cuirass, his wound was found to be butslight; but his men were so exasperated at seeing his blood, thatthey would have put the captive robbers to instant death, had he notforbidden them to do them any harm.The huntsmen now made a great fire at the foot of a tree, and bringinga boar which they had killed, cut off portions and roasted them, orbroiled them on the coals. Then drawing forth loaves of bread from theirwallets, they devoured their food half raw, with the hungry relish ofhuntsmen and mountaineers. The merchant, his wife, and daughter, lookedat all this, and wondered, for they had never beheld so savage a repast.Pelayo then inquired of them if they did not desire to eat; they weretoo much in awe of him to decline, though they felt a loathing at thethought of partaking of this hunter's fare; but he ordered a linen clothto be spread under the shade of a great oak, on the grassy margin of aclear running stream; and to their astonishment, they were served, notwith the flesh of the boar, but with dainty cheer, such as the merchanthad scarcely hoped to find out of the walls of his native city ofBordeaux.The good burgher was of a community renowned for gastronomic prowess:his fears having subsided, his appetite was now awakened, and headdressed himself manfully to the viands that were set before him. Hisdaughter, however, could not eat: her eyes were ever and anon stealingto gaze on Pelayo, whom she regarded with gratitude for his protection,and admiration for his valor; and now that he had laid aside his helmet,and she beheld his lofty countenance, glowing with manly beauty,she thought him something more than mortal. The heart of the gentledonzella, says the ancient chronicler, was kind and yielding; and hadPelayo thought fit to ask the greatest boon that love and beauty couldbestow--doubtless meaning her fair hand--she could not have had thecruelty to say him nay. Pelayo, however, had no such thoughts: the loveof woman had never yet entered his heart; and though he regarded thedamsel as the fairest maiden he had ever beheld, her beauty caused noperturbation in his breast.When the repast was over, Pelayo offered to conduct the merchant andhis family through the defiles of the mountains, lest they should bemolested by any of the scattered band of robbers. The bodies of theslain marauders were buried, and the corpse of the servant was laid uponone of the horses captured in the battle. Having formed their cavalcade,they pursued their way slowly up one of the steep and winding passes ofthe Pyrenees.Toward sunset, they arrived at the dwelling of a holy hermit. It washewn out of the living rock; there was a cross over the door, and beforeit was a great spreading oak, with a sweet spring of water at its foot.The body of the faithful servant who had fallen in the defence of hislord, was buried close by the wall of this sacred retreat, and thehermit promised to perform masses for the repose of his soul. ThenPelayo obtained from the holy father consent that the merchant's wifeand daughter should pass the night within his cell; and the hermit madebeds of moss for them, and gave them his benediction; but the damselfound little rest, so much were her thoughts occupied by the youthfulchampion who had rescued her from death or dishonor.Pelayo, however, was visited by no such wandering of the mind; but,wrapping himself in his mantle, slept soundly by the fountain under thetree. At midnight, when every thing was buried in deep repose, he wasawakened from his sleep and beheld the hermit before him, with the beamsof the moon shining upon his silver hair and beard."This is no time," said the latter, "to be sleeping; arise and listen tomy words, and hear of the great work for which thou art chosen!"Then Pelayo arose and seated himself on a rock, and the hermit continuedhis discourse."Behold," said he, "the ruin of Spain is at hand! It will be deliveredinto the hands of strangers, and will become a prey to the spoiler. Itschildren will be slain or carried into captivity; or such as may escapethese evils, will harbor with the beasts of the forest or the eagles ofthe mountain. The thorn and bramble will spring up where now are seenthe cornfield, the vine, and the olive; and hungry wolves will roam inplace of peaceful flocks and herds. But thou, my son! tarry not thouto see these things, for thou canst not prevent them. Depart on apilgrimage to the sepulchre of our blessed Lord in Palestine; purifythyself by prayer; enroll thyself in the order of chivalry, and preparefor the great work of the redemption of thy country; for to thee it willbe given to raise it from the depth of its affliction."Pelayo would have inquired farther into the evils thus foretold, but thehermit rebuked his curiosity."Seek not to know more," said he, "than heaven is pleased to reveal.Clouds and darkness cover its designs, and prophecy is never permittedto lift up but in part the veil that rests upon the future."The hermit ceased to speak, and Pelayo laid himself down again to takerepose, but sleep was a stranger to his eyes.When the first rays of the rising sun shone upon the tops of themountains, the travellers assembled round the fountain beneath the treeand made their morning's repast. Then, having received the benedictionof the hermit, they departed in the freshness of the day, and descendedalong the hollow defiles leading into the interior of Spain. The goodmerchant was refreshed by sleep and by his morning's meal; and when hebeheld his wife and daughter thus secure by his side, and the hackneyladen with his treasure close behind him, his heart was light in hisbosom, and he carolled a chanson as he went, and the woodlands echoed tohis song. But Pelayo rode in silence, for he revolved in his mind theportentous words of the hermit; and the daughter of the merchant everand anon stole looks at him full of tenderness and admiration, and deepsighs betrayed the agitation of her bosom.At length they came to the foot of the mountains, where the forests andthe rocks terminated, and an open and secure country lay before thetravellers. Here they halted, for their roads were widely different.When they came to part, the merchant and his wife were loud in thanksand benedictions, and the good burgher would fain have given Pelayo thelargest of his sacks of gold; but the young man put it aside with asmile. "Silver and gold," said he, "need I not, but if I have deservedaught at thy hands, give me thy prayers, for the prayers of a good manare above all price."In the mean time the daughter had spoken never a word. At length sheraised her eyes, which were filled with tears, and looked timidly atPelayo, and her bosom throbbed; and after a violent struggle betweenstrong affection and virgin modesty, her heart relieved itself by words."Senor," said she, "I know that I am unworthy of the notice of so noblea cavalier; but suffer me to place this ring upon a finger of that handwhich has so bravely rescued us from death; and when you regard it, youmay consider it as a memorial of your own valor, and not of one who istoo humble to be remembered by you."With these words, she drew a ring from her finger and put it upon thefinger of Pelayo; and having done this, she blushed and trembled at herown boldness, and stood as one abashed, with her eyes cast down upon theearth.Pelayo was moved at the words of the simple maiden, and at the touch ofher fair hand, and at her beauty, as she stood thus trembling and intears before him; but as yet he knew nothing of woman, and his heart wasfree from the snares of love. "Amiga," (friend,) said he, "I accept thypresent, and will wear it in remembrance of thy goodness;" so saying, hekissed her on the cheek.The damsel was cheered by these words, and hoped that she had awakenedsome tenderness in his bosom; but it was no such thing, says the graveold chronicler, for his heart was devoted to higher and more sacredmatters; yet certain it is, that he always guarded well that ring.When they parted, Pelayo remained with his huntsmen on a cliff, watchingthat no evil befell them, until they were far beyond the skirts of themountain; and the damsel often turned to look at him, until she could nolonger discern him, for the distance and the tears that dimmed her eyes.And for that he had accepted her ring, says the ancient chronicler, sheconsidered herself wedded to him in her heart, and would never marry;nor could she be brought to look with eyes of affection upon any otherman; but for the true love which she bore Pelayo, she lived and died avirgin. And she composed a book which treated of love and chivalry,and the temptations of this mortal life; and one part discoursed ofcelestial matters, and it was called "The Contemplations of Love;"because at the time she wrote it, she thought of Pelayo, and of hishaving accepted her jewel and called her by the gentle appellation of"Amiga." And often thinking of him in tender sadness, and of her neverhaving beheld him more, she would take the book and would read it asif in his stead; and while she repeated the words of love which itcontained, she would endeavor to fancy them uttered by Pelayo, and thathe stood before her.

　　THE END.* * * * * * * * * * * *