“Castile’s proud dames shall never point the finger of disdain,
  And say there’s one that ran away when our good lords were slain! 
  I leave Diego in your care,—­you’ll fill his father’s place;
  Strike, strike the spur, and never spare—­God’s blessing on your Grace!”

  So spake the brave Montanez, Butrago’s lord was he;
  And turned him to the coming host in steadfastness and glee;
  He flung himself among them, as they came down the hill,—­
  He died, God wot! but not before his sword had drunk its fill.

From the Spanish. 
Translation of JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART.

* * * * *

HAKON’S DEFIANCE.

FROM “HAKON JARL.”

[Olaf Trygvesoen from Ireland is trying to introduce Christianity, and reclaim his father’s kingdom, in Norway, and has invaded the realm of Earl Hakon, a formidable heathen usurper, who, after defeat in battle, unsuccessfully attempts to have King Olaf assassinated by Thorer Klake, one of his adherents.  But Olaf slays Klake, and now visits Hakon, lying hid in a peasant’s hut.]

  Enter OLAF TRYGVESOeN, muffled up in a gray cloak,
  with a broad hat on his head.

  HAKON [without looking up].—­
  My valiant Thorer Klake, hast come at last? 
  Hast been successful?  Dost thou bring to me
  What thou didst promise?  Answer, Thorer Klake.

  OLAF.—­All things have happened as they should, my lord;
  But pardon Thorer that he does not come
  And bring himself King Olaf’s head to thee—­
  ’Twas difficult for him.  Thor knows he had
  A sort of loathing that himself should bring it,
  And so he sent me.

  HAKON.—­Well, ’tis good; away,
  And deeply bury it in the dark earth. 
  I will not look on it myself:  my eye
  Bears not such sights,—­they reappear in dreams. 
  Bury the body with it.  Tell thy lord
  That he shall come at once.

  OLAF.—­He is asleep.

  HAKON.—­Asleep?

  OLAF.—­A midday slumber; he lies stretched
  Stiffly beneath a shadowy elder-tree.

  HAKON.—­Then wake him up. [Aside.] Asleep, Asleep, and after such
  A deed—­Ha!  Thorer, I admire thee;
  Thou hast rare courage. [Aloud.] Thrall, go wake him up.

  OLAF.—­But wilt thou first not look at Olaf’s head?

  HAKON.—­No; I have said no.

  OLAF.—­Thou dost think, my lord,
  That perhaps it is a horrid frightful sight: 
  It is not so, my lord; for Olaf’s head
  Looks fresh and sound as any in the land.

  HAKON.—­Away, I tell thee!

  OLAF.—­I ne’er saw the like: 
  I always heard that Hakon was a hero,
  Few like him in the North,—­and does he fear
  To see a lifeless and a corpseless head? 
  How wouldst thou tremble then, my lord, if thou
  Shouldst see it on his body?