IV.

With joy the Master to receive, Through Seville’s streets along, Great rumour spreads, and arms resound, And men and horses throng. And shouts of welcoming, amidst Repeated echoes rise, Which from Hiralda’s lofty tower Are scattered to the skies. Now comes the crowd approaching near, But less the shouts resound, And now the palace gates they reach Mid silence all around: As if the Alcazar had enjoy’d The privilege to appear, In sight, and still the enthusiast flow, And turn it into fear. Thus mute and breathless, motionless, The people stood in dread, As if with magical respect The plaza’s bounds to tread; And enters there the Master now, With but a scanty train, And of his order some few knights, The palace gates to gain. And forward on his course directs, As one without alarms, Who goes to meet a brother kind, With open heart and arms: Or as some noble chieftain comes, For glorious deeds the cause, From grateful monarch to receive Due honours and applause. Upon a dark and mettled steed, That breathes of foam and fire, And while the bridle scarce restrains, Seems proud of its attire, With a white mantle o’er him cast, Flung loosely to the air, O’er which the collar and red cross His dignity declare; And cap of crimson velvet girt His brows, whereon unfold The winds the feathers’ snowy plumes, And tassels bound with gold.

All pale as death, the furious King His brother saw from far, When on the plaza entering first, And fix’d as statues are, Awhile he stood upon the floor, And from his angry eyes Seem’d burning horrid lightning thence In flashes to arise. But starting soon, himself around He turn’d the room to leave, As if he would some welcome guest Right affably receive. When thus Padillia saw him turn, Her heart beyond relief Of anguish full, and countenance So beauteous mark’d with grief, She rose, and to the balcony Went troubled, by the square, And to the Master motions wild, With gestures to declare, In evil hour he comes, and waves Her kerchief him away, And by mute signs thus bids him seek Safety without delay. Nothing of this he comprehends, But for saluting takes The warning, and discreetly thus A gallant answer makes. And to the open’d portal comes, With guards and bowmen lined, Who give him passage free, but leave His followers behind.

If he knew not Padillia’s signs, Don Pedro knew them well, As he before the chamber door A moment seem’d to dwell, In deep suspense o’er his resolve, When turning back his eye, He saw the Lady warn him thus By motions thence to fly. O, heaven! then was that noble act, Of pure intent to be What call’d the executioners forth, And seal’d the stern decree. Follow’d by two esquires alone, The Master scarce in haste Upon the royal vestibule His foot confiding placed, Where various men-at-arms were seen, In double iron barr’d, Pacing along as sentinels The entrance stairs to guard, When over from the balcony, Like fiendish shape of ill, The King looks out, and “Mace-bearers,” He shouts, “the Master kill.” Quick as the lightning in a storm Comes ere the thunders call, Six well-appointed maces down On Don Fadrique fall. He raised his hand to grasp his sword, But in his tabard’s gird The hilt was bound, impossible To draw it at the word. He fell, a sea of blood around Ran from the shattered brain, Raising a cry which reached to heaven, And doubtless not in vain. Of deed so horrible the news At once around was spread, And thence the brotherhood and knights Together quickly fled. To hide them in their houses fled The people, trembling sore With horror, and the Alcazar’s bounds Were desert as before.