THE KING IS DEAD—LONG LIVE THE KING
THE KING IS DEAD—LONG LIVE THE KING
Some time has passed since the events which we have narrated in the preceding chapters. Fresh victories gained over the Moors, in the eastern portion of Castile, have raised more and more the glory of Don Fernando, of the Cid, and of the cavaliers who accompanied the latter.
Suddenly, however, both Castilians and Leonese were shocked by rumours which suddenly flew about in all directions: Don Fernando, the great, the noble the brave,the prudent and wise, was about to exchange his crown for a far richer one—one far more brilliant and lasting, for that which God places on the heads of the just in heaven. Years, together with the constant fatigues endured in the defence of the Christian faith and in the government of the nation which the King of kings had placed in his charge, had broken down his health, had weakened his energies, and had brought him to the gates of eternity.
He was in Cabezon, near Valladolid, occupied with the government of his kingdom, when he found that his health was rapidly failing, and he ordered that he should be brought to his Alcazar in Leon, to the bosom of his family, near to the holy temples erected by his never-to-be-forgotten religious fervour. "They carried him," writes Mariana, "in a military litter, borne by hand; the soldiers and exalted private persons were constantly changed, by his orders, on account of the rivalry which was displayed in the work; such was the love that both humble and great felt for him."
As soon as he arrived in Leon, although his disease had become much aggravated, he got himself carried to the churches, and visited the bodies of the saints, where he prostrated himself on the ground, with all the marks of the most ardent and fervent piety. This holy task completed, he was borne to his Alcazar, where he made his will, dividing his estates amongst his children in the following manner:—"To Don Sancho, the eldest," writes the above-mentioned historian, "he bequeathed the kingdom of Castile, as it extends from the river Ebro to the river Pisuerga; all that he inherited of Navarre, by the death of Don Garcia, he added to Castile. The kingdom of Leon he left to Don Alfonso, with the district of Campos, and the portion of the Asturias which extends as far as the river Deva, which flows by Oviedo, together with some towns of Galicia which belonged to him. To Don Garcia, the youngest, he gave the remainder of the kingdom of Galicia, and the portion of the kingdom of Portugal which he had taken from the Moors. All three were to be called kings. To Doña Urraca he bequeathed the city of Zamora; to Doña Elvira the city of Toro. These cities were called the 'Infantado,' a word used at that period to signify the estates left to maintain the Infantes, the younger children of the kings."
Many grandees of the kingdom were gathered round Don Fernando at that time, amongst whom were Arias Gonzalo, Peranzures, Alvar Minaya, Martin Antolinez, Diego Ordoño de Lara, and Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, and they all urged him not to divide the realm into so many portions, for it was to be feared that his doing so would give rise to sanguinary wars.
"Sire," said to him the honoured Arias Gonzalo, "remember the dissensions and the hostilities which were caused by the division which your father, the King of Navarre, made of his kingdom. Leave behind you one compact and strong realm, and not several poor and disunited states."
Don Fernando gazed round his bed, and saw there, weeping disconsolately, all his children.
"Arias," he answered to the loyal old man, "all those whom you see weeping are my children, all have an equal claim on my affection, and I love them all equally. Why do you desire that I should favour one to the detriment of the others? When I captured a fortress from the Moors, when I conquered them on the field of battle, do you know what was the first thought that entered my mind? I considered that I possessed one jewel the more to leave to my children, and then I saw no difference between them, as I thought on all of them; for, I repeat it, my good Arias, all my sons have an equal right to my love. I now do what both my conscience and my heart prompt, and I trust that my sons shall always live in concord, shall always love each other as they have hitherto done, and shall always be brothers."
Arias Gonzalo inclined his noble and rugged brow, as a mark of respect to the will of his dying king.
His malady became rapidly worse; nevertheless, on the following day, which was the second one before Christmas, he caused himself to be carried to the church of St. Isidore, where he heard mass with great devotion, and received communion.
On the day before Christmas he returned to the same church, clad in the robes and insignia of state, and, having been placed near the sepulchre of the holy Archbishop, he exclaimed in a loud voice, directing his gaze towards the altar—
"Lord! Thine is the power, Thine it is to command, all are subject to Thee, kings are Thy servants. I return toThee the kingdom which I received from Thy hand, and I ask from Thee that my soul may enjoy Thy eternal glory."
Having said this, he laid aside his crown and mantle, received Extreme Unction from the hands of one of the many prelates who were present, caused himself to be clothed with haircloth, and got his head covered with ashes, in which condition he left the church.
On the next day, towards evening, feeling that his life was touching on its close, he summoned his sons and daughters, and also his queen, Arias Gonzalo, Rodrigo Diaz, and some other persons.
"You, my good Sancha," he said to the queen, "have always loved me, as the best of wives. In the name of the love which you have felt for me, in the name of God, and in the name of the people whose happiness you have always had so much at heart, I charge you to take good care of our children, to guide them along the paths of virtue; I know the power which a mother, so good as you are, exercises over her children, and in order that I may quit this world with a peaceful soul, it will suffice that you make me the promise which I ask from you."
"I swear to you, my dear husband, that I will fulfil your wishes; I swear it to you by the salvation of my soul," answered Doña Sancha, bursting into tears, and kneeling down beside the bed of the dying king.
He ordered his children to come near him.
"My children," he said to them, "the words with which Christ inculcated love to mankind contain the chief counsels which I desire to give you, 'Love each other.' Obey your mother in everything, so that, guided by her advice, you may never stray from the path of duty. You, my good Urraca, are about to take up your residence in the city of Zamora, you will have near you Arias Gonzalo, who has his house there, and who will return to it as soon as, by my death, he shall be freed from the duties which he at present discharges in my Alcazar; consult him, ask his advice in all difficult affairs, and trust in him, for he is honourable and wise, and will be as a father to you."
"I shall never forget your counsels, my father," replied the Infanta.
"Nor I, sire," said Arias; "I shall serve your daughter with the same loyalty and goodwill with which I always served you."
"Sancho," then continued Don Fernando, "you already know the love which I have always had for the Cid, and the services which he has rendered to faith and country, as an honourable and brave cavalier. It is fortunate for you that you will have him by your side. Love him as I have loved him, honour him as I have honoured him, ask his advice before you come to any resolution, and what he counsels do always."
"Father," replied Don Sancho, "you know the esteem in which I have always held the Cid; I swear to you that he shall have the same exalted place in my heart which he has had in yours."
Don Fernando recommended to Don Garcia the friendship of a Galician cavalier, named Rui-Ximenes, and to Elvira that of another, whose ancestral residence was in Toro, but whose name the "Chronicles" do not mention; he then added, turning towards his children—
"Swear to me, my children, that, content with the possessions which I have given to each of you, no one of you will ever declare war against the other, to take from him any of those states which your dying father has bequeathed."
"We swear it, father and king!" answered all, except Don Sancho, who remained silent.
Don Fernando noted this, and said—
"May the malediction of heaven fall on the Cain who will take up arms against his brother!"
He then ordered the Cid to approach his bed, and said to him—
"Rodrigo, swear to me that you will never draw your sword against a son or daughter of mine, unless you see that such is necessary in order to protect one of them from the oppression of another, and that your strong arm must be used for that purpose."
"Sire, I swear it to you!" replied the Cid, with deep emotion, for his heart was pierced with grief when he saw that his king was near his last breath; he who had been so dear a friend to him, the old man whom he had loved so much, whom he had served so well, and from whom he had received so many proofs of affection.
"Breath is failing my breast!" said Don Fernando in a very weak voice.
Then his queen, his children, all present, indeed, knelt around the bed, exclaiming with sobs—
"Give us your benediction, sire, give us your benediction!"
The dying king blessed all of them; but when he heard their weeping, he made a strong effort to restore to his voice something of the energy which was rapidly departing from it, and said to them—
"Do not weep for me, my wife, my children, my cavaliers, my good servants! No pain afflicts my body or my soul; my spirit is sweetly exhaling itself away like the perfume of the flowers on a beautiful May morning; it is not by physical suffering that my vital forces are weakened, but what is formed from nothingness naturally returns to its origin. I trust in the divine mercy, I trust in God that He will blot out my sins from His recording book, and I go tranquil and even joyous to the gates of eternity. If worldly things can be of any importance to those who are about to leave them for ever, should I not be content to see grouped around my bed those whom I have most loved in the world?"
The king was then silent for some moments, remaining as if in a calm sleep. Then his face became animated, a smile appeared on his lips—a sweet, peaceful smile, like that of a child that, in its sleep, sees itself surrounded by angels.
"What sweet music!" he murmured; "what harmonious singing comes to my ears! What brilliancy surrounds me! What beautiful children, maidens, and youths surround me, all clad in white garments! What a bright throne do I see there—there!... They lead me to it. No, no, it is not the throne of Castile—it is more beautiful, more rich.... But—what perfumes do I inhale!—what delights!—they intoxicate me!"
And the voice of the monarch ceased—ceased for ever.
And many of those who were in the chamber exclaimed—
"Blessed are the just who die thus! Blessed are those who die in the Lord!"
The children of the dead king, Don Fernando, when they took possession of the states which their father bequeathed to them, dedicated themselves peacefully to the government of them, without ceasing to yield obedience to their mother, Doña Sancha, as their father had commanded them, in which task the Cid aided Don Sancho very much, who loved and respected that brave and loyal cavalier.
"The crown became Don Sancho well," writes an historian, "for he was of good presence, and a goodly man; of great prowess, more skilled in the affairs of war than in those of peace. On that account he was called Don Sancho theStrong. Pelagio Ovetense says that he was very handsome, and very skilful in war. He was well-conditioned, quiet and tractable, if not irritated by some annoying matter, or if false friends, under the pretence of doing him a service, did not deceive him. After the death of his father he complained that, by the division of the kingdom, an injustice had been done to him; that the entire kingdom should have been his, and that it had been weakened by its division into so many parts; he talked over this in private with his friends, and showed it even on his countenance. His mother, as long as she lived, restrained him by her authority, and prevented him from declaring war against his brothers."
Some Moorish kings in Aragon, who had paid tribute to his father, refused to recognise vassalage to him, and he prepared to compel them by force of arms. He collected together an army for that purpose, and, accompanied by the Cid, set out for Aragon. The Moors were routed in several pitched battles; he captured many fortified places from them, and consequently forced them to continue to pay tribute to Castile. He had now only to conquer Almugdadir, King of Saragosa, who, but a short time before, had succeeded Ali, one of the five who had been captured by the Cid in the battle of the Oca Mountains. He encamped before that city, which was of much importance in various ways, encircling it and attacking it with vigour; it was defended by strong walls and a numerous garrison, accustomed to war, and the Castilians were repulsed in several assaults; in the end, however, Almugdadir made terms and yielded, it being agreed that he should break off his alliance with Don Ramiro, King of Aragon, and pay tribute to Don Sancho; the latter binding himself, on his part, to defend him against any power which might wage war on him, whether Christian or Moslem.
Don Sancho was much enraged against Don Ramiro for having aided the people of Navarre, his enemies, who very often made raids and irruptions into the territories of Castile, committing all kinds of depredations; and Don Ramiro, on his side, was very angry with Don Sancho, for he considered that he had humiliated him by having conquered Saragosa, which had been under obedience to him; and the conquest of which, he believed, only appertained to him.
The Aragonese were stationed at the Castle of Grados erected by the Moors on the bank of the river Esera, that it might serve as a defence against the invasions of the Christians,and, quitting their fortified position, they sallied forth to encounter Don Sancho, in order to demand satisfaction from him for the affront which they considered they had received.
Don Sancho asked the advice of the Cid, before replying to the demands of Don Ramiro.
"Sire," answered Rodrigo, "I do not believe that the King of Aragon denies entirely your right to compel to obedience those infidels, who acknowledged vassalage to Castile during the lifetime of your father, or that Don Ramiro denies that the Christian kings of Spain should not have equal right to seize on the territories occupied by the infidels. Explain to him with courtesy, but without in any way lowering your dignity, the reasons on account of which you considered yourself justified in attacking the Moors of Aragon, and if, not satisfied with these reasons, he should take up arms, let you do the same; sustain the general opinion, that Castile should never let itself be made a vassal by either Moors or Christians. It is certainly a painful thing to have to fight against Christians, but it is not less so that Christians should seek to reduce to vassalage Castile, which for centuries has fought against the Crescent. Remember what your father did when the Germans, who were also Christians, sought to impose vassalage on him. If at the beginning of your reign you do not gain the reputation of firmness and bravery, even though you may have to fight against Christians, you will be considered pusillanimous, and even the weakest will dare to oppose you."
This advice of Don Rodrigo was very pleasing to Don Sancho, for both their views on this subject were identical, and the King of Castile answered, in a courteous but dignified manner, the King of Aragon; Don Ramiro, however, who did not want explanations, but rather some pretext to avenge his resentment, would not listen to those of Don Sancho, but at once prepared his army for battle. Don Sancho did the same, and the fight commenced with a fury not often seen.
Don Sancho and the Cid, accompanied by Diego Ordoñez de Lara, a cavalier much devoted to the king and to Rodrigo, and by other good knights, amongst whom were Guillen of the Standard, Alvar Fañez Minaya, and Martin Antolinez, were the first that closed with the army of Aragon.
The battle lasted for many hours, and much blood was shed on both sides, but in the end Don Ramiro had to abandon the field in very great disorder. Don Sancho, satisfied with having taught such a lesson to the Aragonese, ceased the pursuit, for to follow up his victory would only cause the shedding of more Christian blood.
The Moors, however, who garrisoned the Castle of Grados, when they learned that the army had retreated, filled with dismay and with its forces much weakened, sallied forth against it and annihilated it; Don Ramiro having been killed in this battle before Don Sancho could come to his assistance, for as soon as he learned that he, whom he had just defeated as his principal enemy, was in great danger, he advanced to the place, rather distant, where the Aragonese and Moors were fighting.
The latter turned back to shut themselves up again in Grados, being much in dread of the Castilians; and, as that fortress was impregnable, and as Don Sancho had not been offended directly by those who garrisoned it, the Castilians did not consider it prudent to remain longer in Aragon, and therefore returned to Castile, satisfied with the success which they had achieved.
The people of Castile, who still deplored the loss of Don Fernando, changed their mourning into gladness on account of those glorious triumphs; hoping to find in Don Sancho a king as brave, as wise, and as great as he was whom they had recently lost.
Don Sancho, desirous of celebrating the propitious commencement of his reign, and wishing to return the proofs of affection which his people had given to him, conceded to them many privileges and favours, and showed himself specially generous to those who had accompanied him during his campaign in Aragon. This increased the public rejoicings very much.
Guillen of the Standard did not receive the least share of his princely munificence. Don Sancho had seen him fighting bravely in all the battles, and, as he desired to reward his valour, and knew that the brave youth was ambitious of honours, he gave him such titles of nobility that Guillen could envy few nobles by privilege, a name which was given to those who were ennobled, not by blood, but through the privileges received from the king as recompenses for personal actions.
All the Castilians, however, did not share in the munificence of Don Sancho. He bore in mind the nobles who, having it in their power to accompany him in the campaign, did not do so, and he took care to manifest his vexation towards them by leaving them unrewarded.
HOW CERTAIN CAVALIERS WENT FOR WOOL AND CAME BACK SHORN
HOW CERTAIN CAVALIERS WENT FOR WOOL AND CAME BACK SHORN
Seldom was seen such activity and life in the Castle of Carrion, in which, usually, solitude reigned: many cavaliers were arriving at the gates of that gloomy edifice, which, during the greater part of the year, seemed to be uninhabited, as its owner, enclosed almost always within those dark walls, lived apparently without any communication with the outside world.
What event can explain such an assemblage of strangers in the Castle of Carrion? Amongst those cavaliers might be seen the Count of Cabra and other nobles, as well known as Don Garcia for their ungovernable, intriguing, and envious characters.
Let us see what they were occupied with.
In a large apartment of the castle about a dozen cavaliers were assembled, whilst their servitors were talking of love and war in the adjoining rooms, under the eye of Bellido Dolfos, who was moving about amongst them, apparently indifferent to their talk.
Let us listen to Don Suero, who took the initiative in the debates of that assembly.
"The Count of Cabra and I," he said, "have come to the conclusion that the Castilian and Leonese nobility, which has always occupied an honoured position by the side of kings, commenced to see itself lowered and humiliated in the time of Don Fernando I., on account of the favour enjoyed by De Vivar, that ambitious soldier who has succeeded in making himself absolute master of the will of the monarch, so that he will only hearken to his counsels. It was to be hoped that Don Sancho II. would atone for the shortcomings of his father, by letting himself be guided by the advice of his nobles, and not exclusively by that of this soldier of fortune, whom, as he would not quit his side, he should only consult in matters of war—for instance, whether it were better to take a fortress by escalade or by bursting in its gates with the battering-ram. But has the new king done this? No; far from it, he consults the Cid in all affairs of state, and follows his counsels blindly, without admitting to his presence the nobles of the kingdom—such isthe contempt with which he treats us, and the distance at which he holds us."
"Yes, yes!" exclaimed all his hearers; "we must assert our dignity by putting an end to the influence and the exclusive favour which De Vivar enjoys with the king, before the evil progresses so far that its cure would be impossible."
"Remember," said the Count of Cabra, "what the king did when he was setting out for the campaign in Aragon: he consulted the Cid as to the prudence of undertaking that enterprise, and he undertook it because that was the will of De Vivar, who, in addition to being ambitious, always seeks for opportunities to increase his wealth by the spoils of war. It was a very ancient custom in Castile to assemble a Cortes before undertaking enterprises of such importance as that of leading an army against another state, and subduing it by fire and sword; but Don Sancho considers the caprice of an individual superior to all old customs, to expedience, and to what he owes to the nobility of his kingdom. If, perchance, he forgets that there are other nobles in Castile besides the friends of De Vivar, let us bring it to his mind, gentlemen."
"And if he pays no attention to the arguments by which we back up our demands," added one of the nobles, "we intend to compel him by means of our men-at-arms; for, if the vassal owes obedience to the king, vassals, on their side, when they are as noble as we are, have the right to demand that the king should respect their honour and the privileges which they, or their ancestors, won by the sword."
"I can count on a hundred lances to help to humble the arrogance of De Vivar," said one of the counts there assembled.
"And I the same number."
"And I two hundred."
"I with three hundred."
"Five hundred stand at my disposal."
And in succession were mentioned all the men-at-arms who could be counted on to dictate terms to Don Sancho, in case he should refuse their demands; the Count of Cabra, however, who, it must be acknowledged, possessed much foresight and skill in hatching conspiracies, objected.
"It is a great and important thing to trust to arms when reasoning fails; but we must remember that the campaign of Aragon has given to Don Sancho and to the Cid great prestige and fame amongst the people; also, that De Vivar has very many friends, and that he is daring, skilful, and strong in battle.Let us respectfully protest against the excessive favour shown to De Vivar, and if Don Sancho pays no attention to us, let us conceal our displeasure, let us win friends, and let us dispose the people in our favour by letting them see, by skilful management, how undeserved is the incense which they burn before their idol, and when we are in a position to feel sure of success, we shall express our indignation publicly."
All present expressed their approval of the plan of Don Garcia.
"You know already," he continued, "that Don Ramiro owed the destruction of his army and his death to the Castilians, to the injustice of Don Sancho, or rather to the disloyal counsels which the Cid gave to the King of Castile. Well, then, this fact can aid us in carrying out our plans. Don Sancho Ramirez, the new King of Aragon, will aid us, should we require his help, for he is panting to avenge the death of his father."
The views of the Count of Cabra received the full approbation of all present, and filled Don Suero with joy, for he considered himself, even already, freed from De Vivar, who was his everlasting nightmare; and having arranged as to the manner in which they should make their protest to the king against the excessive privileges enjoyed by Rodrigo, and having sworn to go on with their enterprise, the meeting broke up, the conspirators setting out for Burgos, where Don Sancho held his Court.
Don Suero went as far as the gate of his castle to see them off, where he held out his hand to Don Garcia, with all the marks of friendship and gratitude.
"Don Suero," said the Count of Cabra to him, "you do not give me a favourable message to bear back to my son."
"Tell him," answered De Carrion, "that he may trust in my promise to reward the services of the father by giving to the son the hand of my sister."
"Have you already arranged with the Infanta?"
"Yes, Don Garcia; Doña Teresa now knows who the husband is whom I destine for her."
"And she accepts?"
"She is delighted."
"Oh, then I have good news to bring to Don Nuño. When I return to see you I shall bring my son with me, for, as he has loved your sister for a long time, it will afford him the greatest pleasure to see her."
"My sister," replied Don Suero, somewhat disturbed, "is so timid and bashful that, although she longs to see the young man whom she is to marry, she will avoid his presence until the day when she can give him the name of husband. Don Nuño, as yourself, can honour my house when it pleases him; but tell him, that if my sister should not venture to let herself be seen by him, he must not be offended by that."
"Then, Don Suero, I believe that the day is not far distant when your family and mine shall become relations, and we shall defer until then the first interview between your sister and my son."
"Thanks, Don Garcia, for your desire to please both my sister and me."
"Trust in my friendship, and do not doubt, but that with the aid of the cavaliers who accompanied me here, we shall triumph over De Vivar, over that arrogant soldier, from whom you have received so many insults. If fate was against us in the ambush which we prepared for De Vivar when he was going to the Cortes at Leon, and if the Moors, his allies, did not wish to second our plans when they went to his assistance against the allies of the Emperor of Germany, it was because we were fighting alone; but it will be a different thing now, as we can count on powerful auxiliaries, and have arranged a good plan of operations. But you have told me nothing of that treacherous page who dared to set his eyes on your sister."
"That disloyal fellow is so beneath contempt that I would only lower myself by speaking of him."
"And I believe that it would be an insult to your sister were I to ask if you have remarked whether Doña Teresa returns his mad love."
"As to that, Don Garcia, have no uneasiness: my sister was filled with indignation when she learned that the youth had dared to set eyes on her. That traitor forgot for a moment his low condition, and believed that it was allowable to fall in love with his mistress; but she would have got him driven from the castle with cudgels, if she had known to what an extent his audacity went. If we find an opportunity to chastise him as much as he deserves, we shall take advantage of it; if not, let us simply despise him as a madman. What can prevent a rustic from secretly loving, I will not say the Infanta of Carrion, but even Doña Urraca, the Infanta of Zamora?"
"Do you know of the favours which the Cid has lavished on him?"
"That, Don Garcia, is another reason that both you and I should hate De Vivar."
"Certainly, certainly, Don Suero. We shall both be avenged; have no doubt of that."
Thus speaking, the Count of Cabra hastened to mount his steed, and galloped off to overtake his friends, who had already ridden some distance.
Two days afterwards the king, Don Sancho, was conversing with his mother in the Alcazar of Burgos, when Doña Sancha said to her son—
"If the will of your father, if the wishes of a dying man do not suffice to make you content with the kingdom of Castile as your inheritance, the tears of your mother should be sufficient to do so—she who would give a hundred lives to prevent her children fighting against each other."
"Mother," replied Don Sancho, "I swear to you, that if my brothers do not provoke a war, I shall not do so,—but allow me the right to complain here, where none but you hears me, of the injustice which was done me by dividing the kingdom into five parts and giving me one of them, when I should have received all. The kingdom of Castile and Leon, in its entirety, should have gone to the eldest son of Don Fernando I."
"Reason and justice are superior to custom, my son. Why should a father disinherit one son because he happened to come into the world a short time after another? In order that a king may be good, he must be just; he must be guided by reason; for these causes your father gained the name of Great, and only thus shall you also merit it. His brother challenged your father to battle, but your father refused to accept that challenge until his kingdom of Castile was invaded. Don Garcia having been conquered and slain, your father had the right to take possession of Navarre, and he did so. If you desire to imitate your father, how far should you be from declaring war against your brothers, who do not provoke you to do so."
"I shall not do it, mother, I repeat to you, even though I consider myself very much aggrieved."
"Castile is a kingdom which the most powerful monarchs envy, its people are as loyal as they are brave and warlike; the Castilians love you, and a courageous soul beats in yourbreast. Leave your brothers and sisters in peaceful possession of their states, and enlarge your own by conquering, with the sword, and by the aid of the good cavaliers who surround you, infidel territories, with the possession of which Castile will become so great and redoubtable that powerful rulers will come to offer vassalage to you."
"Yes, yes, I shall do so, mother; I shall thus satisfy that ambition which, in spite of myself, continually disquiets me."
"My son, you do not know how that ambition weighs upon the heart of your mother."
"And do you not know why I am ambitious? Do you not know, mother? It is because I cannot live in a close circle without feeling that I am being smothered; it is because small and petty things are repugnant to my soul; it is because my spirit is only contented with the grand and the magnificent. The title of king is but a mockery when he who bears it only rules over a small state which can be ridden through in a few days."
"Well, then, my son, if mean things are hateful to you, respect the will of your father, and love your brothers, for it would be paltry not to do so."
"My father impressed on me that I should always let myself be guided by your counsels and by those of Rodrigo Diaz; I shall obey him, mother."
"Yes, my son, let not De Vivar quit your side, give heed to his counsels, for none can give them to you as loyally and as wisely as that good cavalier."
"Oh, my mother, you cannot know how much the friendship, which I always had for Rodrigo, has increased, since the crown of Castile first encircled my brow, and especially since, with his aid, I reduced to obedience the Moors of Aragon and conquered Don Ramiro. How invaluable were his advice and his sword to me at that time! It seemed to me that, having the Cid at my side, there was no enterprise that I could not bring to a successful issue; it seemed to me, that if the entire earth declared war against me, I could conquer it with the aid of the Cid."
Don Sancho was interrupted by the entrance of one of his servants who announced to him the arrival at the Alcazar of a deputation from the Castilian nobility, which solicited an audience. Don Sancho gave orders that those nobles should be admitted to his presence.
A few minutes after the Count of Cabra and some more ofthose whom we have seen assembled in the Castle of Carrion stood in the presence of the king.
"Sire," said Don Garcia, with all the marks of profound respect, "many nobles, your vassals, have sent us to you to offer their congratulations on the glorious triumphs which you have recently won in Aragon."
"Triumphs," replied the king, "which the Castilian nobility have helped me to win, by accompanying me in the campaign and fighting bravely."
The Count of Cabra and those who were with him perceived at once the reproach which Don Sancho had aimed at them, and were on the point of exhibiting their vexation; they restrained themselves, however; and Don Garcia continued, as if he had not noticed the irony which was contained in the words of the king—
"Sire, the nobles who have commissioned us to bring you their salutations do not belong to the number of those who followed you to Aragon."
"Who then are they, Don Garcia?"
The Count of Cabra began to give the names of his friends.
"Have you not told me that you come on the part of the Castilian nobility?"
"Certainly, sire, for the nobles I have named are the most exalted amongst them."
"And the most exalted nobles of Castile remained quietly in their castles whilst their king was fighting against the enemies of God and of their country?"
"Sire, the grandees who salute you have given abundant proofs of their valour and of their devotion to their king; if they did not accompany you to the war of Aragon it was because years, infirmities, or urgent private affairs did not permit it. Besides, sire, they believe that, if the king keeps them at a distance and does not seek their counsels, he does not require their aid when he engages in important enterprises, such as that of making war on foreign states."
Indignation coloured the visage of Don Sancho, who interrupted the Count of Cabra, exclaiming—
"As God lives, I shall chastise the audacity of the subjects who thus insult their lord! Let both you and those who sent you understand clearly, that the King of Castile will not tolerate any fault-finding from his vassals."
"Sire, it is not our desire to find fault with you, but to beseech you to show that consideration towards us which ourexalted position merits, and which was always shown to our ancestors; we desire that in the Court of Castile there should be favours for all nobles, and not for a few, or rather for one only."
"What is this you say to your king, traitors?"
"Sire!" exclaimed almost all of the nobles present, in indignation, "what is this you say to us? You have stained the honour of the most noble cavaliers of Castile."
"No, they are not nobles who dare to impose laws on their sovereign, who dare to speak before him in the outrageous and arrogant way in which you have spoken!" replied Don Sancho, not less irritated than those who were listening to him.
"It would be a stain on our honour," continued the Count of Cabra, abandoning entirely the affected humility with which, at first, he had addressed the king,—"it would be a stain on our honour if we were not to bring our complaints before you with the frankness which befits good cavaliers. You offend us, sire, by keeping us away from your Alcazar, forgetting what is due to us, and the right we have to share in the favours which you lavish on De Vivar and his friends, in order that you may retain their support."
"Silence, silence! and do not dare to profane with your lips the name of the Cid Campeador, or the names of his friends and mine! I understand your desire; you would withdraw from my side the most honoured cavalier of Castile, the strongest pillar of my throne, the best servant of my father, the terror of the enemies of the Christian faith? Depart from my presence, for anger burns in my heart at seeing before me men with such despicable souls as yours."
"Sire, recognise what we are, and what our rights are!"
"Justice of God!" exclaimed Don Sancho, now no longer able to restrain his anger. "Must I tolerate that traitor vassals should threaten me in my own palace? No, as God lives, no! there are executioners in my Court who this very day shall make your heads roll in the dust!" Then, turning towards the door of the apartment, he called out in a loud voice, "My guards hither! My guards hither!"
About a dozen archers immediately appeared, to whom the king said—
"Lead off these traitor nobles and shut them up in a prison, from which they shall only come forth to the scaffold."
The archers were about to obey the king, when those men, who had showed themselves so audacious only a few momentsbefore, bent their knees before the enraged monarch, stricken with terror—
"Pardon, sire, pardon!"
Don Sancho made a sign to the archers to retire, and darting a glance at the nobles, which expressed both the contempt and indignation that filled his soul, he said to them—
"Rise, despicable cowards; men as noble as you say you are should not touch the floor with their immaculate brows. Be off from my sight; such baseness afflicts my soul. Depart from my Court at once, and never return to it, for if my eyes rest on you again, they shall be as those of the basilisk, which kills by its glances."
The counts hastened to quit the Alcazar, and even the city, with all the haste which the king had commanded.
HOW THE PEASANT OF BARBADILLO WENT TO BURGOS, WITH OTHER THINGS WHICH THE READER WILL LEARN
HOW THE PEASANT OF BARBADILLO WENT TO BURGOS, WITH OTHER THINGS WHICH THE READER WILL LEARN
We must now cast a rapid glance on the mansion of De Vivar, for none of its inhabitants deserve to be forgotten; we shall not, however, penetrate into the principal apartments, for in the entrance-hall we shall meet those who will engage our attention for a brief period. Fernan and Alvar were there, chatting in a friendly manner: we must certainly lend some attention to their conversation, for it is not altogether foreign to the story which we are endeavouring to relate.
"Is it long since you were at Vivar?" asked Alvar.
"I have been there twice since we returned from Aragon."
"And did you go to the house of Pero?"
"Of course; our master and mistress are so fond of Beatrice that they would never forgive me if I were not to bring them tidings of her and her family whenever I happen to be near the dwelling of Pero."
"And what about Beatrice? Is she as gentle and beautiful as at the time when you and I caught fire from the glances of her eyes?"
"More so than even then, brother."
"Anger of God! how fortunate that Martin Vengador is to have won the love of such a splendid girl!"
"And how much more fortunate he is to have gained so much favour in the eyes of our master!"
"Don Rodrigo certainly thinks a great deal of that youth. You saw what a large share of the booty he assigned to him after the campaign in Aragon."
"And his generosity did not stop there with regard to that Martin."
"What? Has he bestowed additional favours on him?"
"He has promised to do so on the occasion of his marriage with Beatrice."
"And what favours are those, Fernan?"
"Don Rodrigo and Doña Ximena are to be groomsman and brideslady at the wedding of Martin and Beatrice; and they are to receive as gifts, for themselves and their descendants, a house and excellent lands on the estate of Vivar."
"Do you know what you should do?"
"What, Alvar?"
"Marry Mayorica, before their wedding, and see if our lord and lady will give you as valuable gifts as they will give to that youth."
"They would give them to me, for they are liberal to those who serve them faithfully."
"Well, if it is so, why don't you marry?"
"I shall do so very soon, Alvar: yesterday I promised Mayorica, who is mad to be married, for she says that if she cannot get me to church now, while she is still young and comely, she won't be able to do so later on. Her complaints almost upset my patience."
"And will you keep your promise to her?"
"I have made it, and I shall keep it, although I was never so much against it as now."
"May the Moors kill me if I understand you! Why should you be unwilling to get married, when you are well off, when you can have a gentle and loving bride, and hopes of rich presents? Is not Mayorica pleasing to you?"
"She pleases me as much as ever, Alvar, but—listen, for I am about to confide a great secret to your discretion."
Fernan looked round to see if there was anyone present who might hear him, and, not seeing anyone, he continued—
"You must know, comrade, that some time ago I saw a girl whose charms would set a heart of stone on fire."
"What? Perchance that girl from Albarracin has come to Burgos, she whom you fell in love with when we were stationed there during the last campaign?"
"No, brother, it is not that one. I should wish indeed that the girl from Albarracin were here, for I think of her night and day. She whom I have fallen in love with in Burgos comes from Barbadillo, and I swear to you that she seems to have come from heaven, so beautiful is she!"
"There is also a girl from Barbadillo for whom I sigh."
"From Barbadillo? I vow by Judas Iscariot that it would be a nice thing if.... Where did you see her, tell me?"
"At the forge of Master Iñigo"—
"By the soul of Beelzebub I'll cudgel you if you have dared to cast your eyes where I have set mine; it was also in the forge of Master Iñigo that I saw the girl I told you of. What kind is she, Alvar?"
"Dark-complexioned."
"So is mine."
"Black eyes."
"So has mine also."
"A fine figure."
"Exactly."
"Strong hands."
"Just like mine."
"For she made my face smart with a blow, when I began to talk amorously to her."
"My girl did just the same to me! Traitor! How have you dared"—
"But, my friend, if I did not know"—
"You shall know now, if you have forgotten, what my hands are able to do."
And Fernan seized the page by the back of the neck with the force of a pair of pincers.
On hearing the cries of the page, Mayor came out on the top of the flight of stairs, and as she saw that Fernan did not perceive her, so much was he intent on venting his rage on Alvar, she stopped, in order to try to discover the origin of the quarrel, which doubtless she suspected.
"Traitor!" exclaimed Fernan. "I am never to love a woman, but you must needs fall in love with her also? You shall die by my hand!"
And the squire not only plied his hands on the page, but also his feet.
"Let me go, Fernan; I swear to you I shall never speak another word to that peasant girl from Barbadillo, nor indeed to any woman, born or to be born"—
"That oath saves you," said Fernan, letting him loose; "but I assure you, Alvar, that you shall answer for it to me if you ever try to gain the love of that pretty girl for whom I sigh."
"Ah, traitor! oh, false one! This, then, is the fidelity which you swore to me only yesterday!" exclaimed Mayor, no longer able to restrain her anger, and coming down the flight of stairs with two jumps, her hands clenched and her eyes flaming.
Fernan receded a few steps, terrified, as if he wished to fly from that fury, by whose hands he felt himself gripped with almost as much force as Alvar had been by his.
"Traitor! Do you forget me, thus turning your back on me? I shall take care that you remember me as long as you live." And Mayor, with her nails, made the blood run from the neck and face of her faithless lover, who, despite his enormous strength, which he used to its fullest, could not free himself from her.
"Get away from me, wench, or I shall strike and kick you!" cried the unlucky squire, whose strength prevailed at last. Mayor let him go, and, from a shove which Fernan gave her, fell against the bottom of the stairs, receiving a blow on the head which deprived her of consciousness.
Fernan raised his foot to kick Mayor, as he had threatened, but, seeing her motionless, he examined her, and, seeing that blood was flowing from her head, became frightened. His anger suddenly changed to grief and the most violent despair.
"Mayorica! Mayorica! my darling, return to yourself! pardon me!" cried the deeply afflicted squire, endeavouring to raise the young woman; seeing, however, that she was not recovering, he began to tear his hair and strike his head and face, as if he had lost his reason.
"I have killed her! I have murdered her! I am a barbarian, I am a villain! I am a treacherous assassin! Kill me, Alvar, kill me, and kill at once that peasant girl who is to blame for this misfortune."
Alvar, far from killing anyone, was endeavouring to save Mayor's life; he was bathing her face with water, which, fortunately, was near at hand, and bandaging her face with his pocket handkerchief.
At last she recovered consciousness and arose, breaking out,not into abuse of her lover, but into wailings capable of moving to compassion even the stone against which her head had struck. Fernan redoubled his caresses and promises of amendment, with which he succeeded in consoling her a little, although Mayor knew well how soon the squire usually forgot his oaths.
A moment after, the entrance-hall was deserted, for Fernan and Alvar had disappeared up the staircase, supporting Mayor; however, in a short time a number of persons, who from the commencement of the quarrel had been crowding to the principal gate, approached as near it as possible, commenting on and explaining in their own way what had happened in the hall.
"The girl must have slipped on the staircase and rolled down it," said one.
"No," replied another; "but she was in love at the same time with both Fernan and Alvar, and as soon as they discovered it they knocked the dust off each other, and then settled their accounts with the girl."
"She who got the blow is not the cause of the quarrel; it is a peasant girl from Barbadillo."
"Whoever it is, I swear by all that's holy that women are the ruin of men. May I be confounded if, from this day forward, I believe in even the best of them."
"All men should do the same, master soldier."
"Yes, they are falser than Judas himself."
"It is men who are false; they fall in love with us, two at a time, and even that isn't enough for them."
"Eh, my good old woman, don't take yourself into the count, for you are out of the running."
"Holy Santa Gadea! Is there no one to defend an honest matron against the insults of this ruffian of a soldier?"
"This soldier swears that all women are not good for much."
"You insolent, shameless fellow!" cried out a loud chorus of women, who rushed furiously on him who had levelled that insult at them, and scratched and mauled him without giving him time to defend himself.
The men rushed to the aid of the soldier, who, in the end, found himself free from those furies, and went off from the crowd, well beaten, and with a face torn and bleeding.
At the same time a peasant approached the crowd and with very great curiosity asked what was the cause of the assembly; he muttered an execration when he could find out nothingdistinctly, for what one said was in complete contradiction to the explanations of another. His chief wish seemed to be to get to the door, around which the people were still crowding, to see if the heroes of the recent fight would again appear in the entrance-hall; he then tried to force a passage for himself with his hands and head, muttering threats and oaths at the same time.
"I swear," he growled, "that even if I'm crushed to death, I'll know what is going on, for it must be something important when it brings so many people here, and I have not come to the city to live in obscurity as I did in Barbadillo."
The execrations and exclamations became more frequent, according as the peasant's efforts to press forward increased.
"Don't push us, you vile rustic!" cried some.
"Anger of God!" exclaimed others, "let us flatten the clown!"
"Don't look on that ass as a rational creature."
"By all the saints in heaven, this fellow is the greatest brute that eats bread."
"Push the pig back!"
"Sit upon the savage!"
"I swear that the insults of those good-for-nothing women are putting me out of patience."
"It's yourselves that are good for nothing."
"Women are never good for anything, and by San Pedro of Cardeña we'll soon come to blows with you."
"Come to blows with us?" cried several of the women, and they made a rush on Bartolo, for it was he who was making such violent efforts to push his way through the crowd, and attacked him with the same fury as they had, but a short time before, exhibited towards the soldier who had insulted them. The peasant, who was very strong, defended himself, knocking down a woman with each blow, and was on the point of triumphing over his furious enemies; they, however, cried out to the men to help them, calling them cowards, and telling them that men are bound to render their assistance to women. The men who were present were but few, for curiosity, in all ages, has been the almost exclusive birthright of women; those who were there, however, ranged themselves on the side of the weaker sex, and attacked with sticks and fists the man from Barbadillo, who at last surrendered at discretion, bruised, scratched, and bleeding, so that he was a pitiable sight to see.
The boy who has been beaten by other boys in a street, which is not that in which he lives, often vents his anger by calling out to those who have maltreated him—
"You'll see how I'll make you pay for this when I get you into my street."
And neither more nor less did the persecuted Bartolo do, for, seeing that he was vanquished, and that there was no possibility of his having revenge then and there, he exclaimed, crossing his arms, moving his head from side to side, and wishing to annihilate them all with a glance—
"I swear by all that's holy that I'll smash you all when I get you in Barbadillo!"
"Oh, the fellow comes from Barbadillo!" said one of those who had been there at the beginning of the quarrel between Fernan and Alvar, and who consequently had had an opportunity of learning something of its cause. "Barbadillo be cursed, for the wench who was the cause of all this row comes from it!"
These words aroused the curiosity of the peasant, who, as we have seen, did not need much to excite it.
"Keep yourself quiet," said Bartolo to himself, "and you'll discover something that will give annoyance to the Barbadillo people, in return for what they have said respecting your going often to the city, that you were outrageously curious, and that you neglected your wife and property to stick your nose into other people's affairs."
And approaching, very quietly, him who was cursing Barbadillo, and who indeed was the soldier whom the women had beaten so severely, he said to him—
"Friend, I am from Barbadillo, but I would rather belong to the country of the Moors than to that wretched village, which, without doubt, God cursed as a punishment for the strife between the Infantes of Lara, which commenced in it. Then she, you say, who caused all this row is from Barbadillo? I swear she couldn't be from any other place."
This agreement in their views gained for Bartolo the sympathy of the soldier.
"What! you know nothing of the cause of the fight?" said the latter.
"You will please me much by relating to me what took place; I know you will do so, for you are more polite than this vulgar crew," replied the peasant.
"Then you must know," said the soldier, "that two servitorsof the Cid are in love with a girl from Barbadillo, and they have fought and cudgelled each other as the result of a dispute as to which of them should have her."
"I swear that she must be no great things of a girl when she throws eyes at both of them. The women of Barbadillo, my friend, are just that kind; there's the daughter of old mother Valeta, who, they say, fell in love with four."
"According to that, comrade, you should not choose a wife from that place."
"It is from it that I have mine; but I have come with her to live in Burgos, for I am very fond of knowing what is going on in the world, such as one can learn who lives in a city, and I go every day to the forge of Master Iñigo to hear the news that's going round. My wife goes with me, though I find it hard to get her to do so, but wish to polish her up a bit, and it happened the other day that a knave of a squire began to make love to her while I was talking to Iñigo, and she told me, for I saw nothing of it, that she broke the fellow's teeth with a blow of her fist You see by that what an honest woman my wife is."
"Honesty be hanged!"
"What do you mean, friend?"
"I mean that your wife is the very one that the two men were fighting about."
"San Pedro de Cardeña, help me!"
"And it is quite certain that, even if the first time she received them with blows, she must have shown herself kinder to them afterwards, for, if not, they would not have fought so furiously on account of her."
"I swear I'll kill that false woman!" exclaimed the enraged rustic, tugging at his hair with rage.
As some of the bystanders had heard his conversation with the soldier, all of them knew very soon the cause of his despair, and it was at once intensified by a fearful chorus of hisses, of coarse jokes, and of abuse.
The unfortunate Bartolo faced the crowd defiantly; his words, however, were lost amid the hisses and the loud voices, and then there was no remedy but to open a way for himself and fly, mad, raging, careless as to consequences.
The crowd remained in its position, as those who composed it desired to learn the result of the quarrel between the servitors of De Vivar, for they wished to know for certain, as already began to be whispered, if the waiting-woman of DoñaTeresa had died of the blow which the squire had given her.
The gallop of a horseman was heard, just then, on the road leading from the Alcazar, and it was soon perceived that it was a king's messenger who was approaching the residence of the Cid in great haste; and he, seeing that the crowd was but slowly opening a passage for him, broke through it, his horse knocking some of the people down.
A few minutes afterwards the Cid was proceeding towards the Alcazar, accompanied by Guillen, Fernan, and Alvar, and the people hastened to withdraw, actuated by a feeling of respect, but perhaps chiefly because they had lost all hopes of satisfying their curiosity, and of seeing the squire and the page engage in a fresh quarrel.
Don Sancho, who, as soon as the Count of Cabra and the other conspirators had departed from his presence, had sent to summon Rodrigo, was awaiting him with impatience, for, although he felt that he should chastise those audacious men, he did not wish to do so without consulting the Cid on such a serious matter. The king also desired to obtain the advice of his mother, and that is why Doña Sancha was at his side when Rodrigo arrived.
"My good Cid," said Don Sancho on seeing him, "the Count of Cabra and other noblemen have but just now left the Alcazar. I suppose you think they came to offer me their swords to fight against the Moorish power?"
"Sire," replied Rodrigo, "that is what nobles like Don Garcia should do; but neither he nor his friends did so when you set out for the campaign of Aragon, and I doubt much if they have done it now."
"You are right; those wrongly named noblemen, far from coming to offer their king the aid of their arms, came to insult him, to threaten him, to impose laws on him."
"God's anger! what traitors they are!" exclaimed Rodrigo, unable to restrain his anger; but sorry for having failed in the moderation and proper restraint which the presence of his king and of the widow of Fernando the Great required, he bent his knee respectfully and added—
"Pardon, sire; pardon me if I have been wanting in respect to you."
"Arise, Rodrigo," said Don Sancho, holding out his hand to the Cid, "arise, for your very indignation proves that you are a good vassal and a good cavalier."
De Vivar, emboldened by this kindness, continued, giving reins to his just indignation—
"Tell me, sire, in what way have they offended you; although it is sufficient for me to know that they have done so, and I have a sword to fight with them—to avenge you or to die! Is it not enough that De Cabra, De Carrion, and their partisans should be always in revolt against Castile with their cowardly plots, and never draw a sword against the enemies of their country, but that they should come barefacedly to insult you in your Alcazar?"
"No, Rodrigo, my indulgence does not suffice them; it is not sufficient for them that their king should pardon them their neglect of everything that cavaliers should do: they want me to lavish favours on them; they desire to occupy the best positions in my Alcazar; they wish that Castile should be governed by laws dictated by their caprice and ambition; they demand that all those should be removed from my side who have loyally served and advised me, and you, especially, my good Cid—it is you who are the principal object of their hatred."
"I am not surprised to hear that those counts hate me, for I have known that for a long time. As long as their cowardly attempts were directed against me alone, I despised them. I did not desire to appeal to my king for help to defend myself or for the punishment of my enemies; but now when, to make war against me, they desire to wage it against you also, I feel bound to reveal to you the cowardly treachery of those men, and to urge you to punish them."
Having thus spoken, Rodrigo Diaz put his hand into the pouch which hung from his girdle, and took from it some sheets of parchment which he handed to the king, adding—
"See here, sire, the propositions which the Counts of Cabra and of Carrion made to Abengalvon and to the other Moorish kings, my friends, when we were marching against the allies of the Emperor of Germany."
The king read the letters in a low voice. In them it was proposed to the Moorish kings to get up a plot against the Cid on the first occasion that might present itself, and kill him. In order to induce them to do this Don Suero and Don Garcia employed the grossest calumnies, asserting that the Cid was working in an underhand way, under the guise of friendship, and abusing their confidence, to dispossess Abengalvon andthe other Moorish kings of their states. They also promised them liberal rewards.
"Traitors, cowardly counts!" exclaimed at the same time both Don Sancho and his mother.
"Abengalvon and the other Moors," continued Rodrigo, "although infidels, placed these letters in my hands, indignant not only on account of the malice of those counts, but also on account of the insult inflicted on them by supposing them capable of such perfidious conduct towards their best friend—against him, who, having taken them captives in fair war, restored to them their liberty, without imposing any conditions whatsoever on them. And that, sire, was not the first time that De Cabra and De Carrion had endeavoured to disembarrass themselves of me. A short time before the campaign beyond the Pyrenees, when I was proceeding to the Cortes at Leon, Martin Antolinez, Guillen of the Standard, and myself were enticed by stratagem into an ambuscade where ten assassins, in the pay of the Counts of Carrion and of Cabra, awaited us. We fought, and fortune protected us, although we were so inferior in numbers and unprepared for a combat. Amongst the assassins there was one who, before he expired, confessed to us who had put the assassin's steel in his hand."
"With their blood," cried Don Sancho, deeply indignant, "shall those accursed traitors pay the penalty of their crimes. Their heads shall fall on the scaffold, and even that will not be as great a punishment as they deserve."
"Sire," said Rodrigo, "punish them, but do not shed their blood; enough has been shed in the war. Banish them for ever from Castile, and threaten them with heavier punishment if they should ever dare to return."
"Yes, my son, take the advice of Rodrigo," said Doña Sancha; "imitate the generous example of the good cavalier who intercedes for his treacherous enemies."
"If the presence of those counts in Castile were only to my prejudice," said Rodrigo, "I would not counsel you to banish them; but they have dared to threaten you, and they will collect bands together and plot conspiracies, which must be prevented. Cast from the kingdom this evil seed before it has time to germinate; but I swear to you, sire, that even with the price of my own blood I would try to prevent the shedding of that of my enemies."
"Be it so, then, Rodrigo," said Don Sancho; "the Count of Cabra and his partisans shall leave my kingdom within fourdays, and if they do not go, we shall have no pity for them; in that case their traitorous heads shall roll on the ground. I wish to be good towards the good, but inexorable towards the bad; the Castilian nobles shall have in me a friend rather than a master, if they will correspond to my friendship; but I shall not be subject to them, I do not desire to bear the name of king and allow the nobles to govern the kingdom."
"Thus," said the Cid, "Castile will be powerful and happy as in the time of your father, and like him you will merit the name of 'the Great.' I belong to the highest nobility of Castile, but notwithstanding I maintain that the duty of nobles is to aid their king, not to enslave him and paralyse the hands which should freely guide the reins of the State."
On that same day Don Sancho issued an order that within three days the Counts of Cabra and of Carrion, and about a dozen other nobles, should depart from Castile, into perpetual banishment, as rebels to his authority, traitors, and disturbers of the peace of the kingdom.