Poems (Ford)/Bernardo del Carpio

BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.[1]
At last the foe was vanquished,The warrior turned his rein,To place his hard-won laurelsUpon the brow of Spain.
But soon a fearful storyOf wrong aroused his ire;His soul was wrung with anguish,His heart seemed changed to fire.
Swift sped his fleet war-chargerTill at the palace door,And soon his clanging sabreRang on the marble floor.
The king, who 'mongst his noblesDiscussed the victory won,Half rose to meet the heroKnown as his warrior son.
Bernardo waved him backwardWith gesture of command,And cried, "O king, I can notIn friendship touch thy hand.
"I call thee sire no longer—Ah, why did I not seeThat thy cold heart had neverA father's love for me.
"On many a field of battleI for thy rights have stood,And, while with my brave legionsFor thee I shed my blood,—
"My own true, noble fatherIn thy cold dungeon lay:If blood you ask, mine surelyHas washed his fault away."
Then spoke the crafty monarch,In accents soft and bland:"Bernardo, thou art honoredAs champion of our land.
"The voice of Spain, in triumph,Recounts thy vict'ries won;'T were sad to keep a fatherFrom such a noble son.
"Give up, then, as a ransom,Thy castle strong to me;My royal word I pledge thee,Thy father thou shalt see."
"Take all I own, my sovereign,But break my father's chains;Wealth, power, renown, are worthlessWhile captive he remains.
"My father, oh! what anguishMust have been his for years,While stories of my conquestsWere ringing in his ears.
"How base he must have picturedThe son who bled for thee,Whose arm was never liftedTo set his father free.
"Oh, haste, to ope his dungeon,That I may hear his voice,And, after years of sorrow,Bid him at last rejoice."
Time passed, and still in fettersThe Count Saldana lay;The wily king his promiseRenewed from day to day.
At last he said, "Bernardo,Behold where o'er the plainThy father rides, a free man,'Mid yonder glittering train."
Borne on their arrowy coursers,Whose hoofs scarce touched the ground,They reached the spot where slowlyThe long procession wound.
Low bent the youthful warrior,His father's hand to clasp,But, icy-cold and pulseless,It fell from out his grasp.
With nameless dread he shuddered,And quick the vizor raised,And on the stony visageIn breathless horror gazed.
The silv'ry locks encirledA brow as cold as stone;The mute lips ne'er would greet him—His father's soul had flown.
He bent his throbbing foreheadUpon his nerveless hand,His burning tears fast falling,Like rain, upon the sand.
Stern warriors viewed with sorrowA woe so wild and deep,Amazed to see the bravestOf Spain's proud chieftains weep.
"My father, oh, my father!My life's fond hope has fled;I came with joy to meet thee;I see thee cold and dead!
"Come back, O soul that prisonAgain can never hold,And learn how that heart loved theeThat seemed so base and cold.
"Alas! too late I see thee;In vain, in vain I call—A Heavenly King has brokenAt last thy spirit's thrall!"
Then, turning to Alfonso,He cried, "Base monarch, say,Why hast thou brought me hitherTo greet this lifeless clay?
"Where is the brave young nobleThou didst in prison fling,Because he loved and weddedThe sister of a king?
"Where is the soul that kindledThat form with God's warm breath?My all was never barteredFor this cold guest of Death!
"A king whose soul is perjuredShould cease to wear the crown;The false and cruel-heartedShould fling the sceptre down!"
The monarch paled in anger,And shouted to his trainTo seize the sword that oftenTurned war's red tide for Spain.
The cavaliers stood silent,Awed by their hero's grief,Their dauntless hearts dividedBetween their king and chief.
And soon they heard, defiant,The champion's proud tones ring:"Bernardo's sword no longerIs subject to a king.
"And though thou hast by falsehoodWon Carpio's castle strong,I still have the free mountains,The right to war with wrong.
"False-hearted king, remember,Long as this arm is free,I wage a ceaseless warfareAgainst thy cause and thee!"
  1. This renowned Champion of the Ninth Century was the son of the Count Saldana, who had secretly married the sister of Alfonso, King of Austurias. The angry King doomed the Count to life-long imprisonment, and brought up the young Bernardo as his own son. The Champion at last, on his victorious return from battle, learns who his real father is, and demands his release.