ay, nor once those parts come near.

X.
"Your uncle grace and love will show; he is a bounteous man;"--
And so they let Gayferos go, and turned them to Galvan.
The heart and the small finger upon the board they laid,
And of Gayferos' slaughter a cunning story made.

XI.
The Countess, when she hears them, in great grief loudly cries:
Meantime the stripling safely unto his uncle hies:--
"Now welcome, my fair boy," he said, "what good news may they be
Come with thee to thine uncle's hall?"--"Sad tidings come with me--

XII.
"The false Galvan had laid his plan to have me in my grave;
But I've escaped him, and am here, my boon from thee to crave:
Rise up, rise up, mine uncle, thy brother's blood they've shed;
Rise up--they've slain my father within my mother's bed."[2]

MELISENDRA.

The following is a version of another of the ballads concerning
Gayferos. It is the same that is quoted in the chapter of the
Puppet-show in Don Quixote.

"'Child, child,' said Don Quixote, 'go on directly with your story, and
don't keep us here with your excursions and ramblings out of the road. I
tell you there must be a formal process, and legal trial, to prove
matters of fact.'--'Boy,' said the master from behind the show, 'do as
the gentleman bids you. Don't run so much upon flourishes, but follow
your plain song, without venturing on counterpoints, for fear of
spoiling all'--'I will, sir,' quoth the boy, and so proceeding: 'Now,
sirs, he that you see there a-horseback, wrapt up in the Gascoign-cloak,
is Don Gayferos himself, whom his wife, now revenged on the Moor for his
impudence, seeing from the battlements of the tower, takes him for a
stranger, and talks with him as such, according to the ballad,

'Quoth Melisendra, if perchance,
Sir Traveller, you go for France,
For pity's sake, ask when you're there,
For Gayferos, my husband dear.'

"'I omit the rest, not to tire you with a long story. It is sufficient
that he makes himself known to her, as you may guess by the joy she
shows; and, accordingly, now see how she lets herself down from the
balcony, to come at her loving husband, and get behind him; but,
unhappily, alas! one of the skirts of her gown is caught upon one of the
spikes of the balcony, and there she hangs and hovers in the air
miserably, without being able to get down. But see how Heaven is
merciful, and sends relief in the greatest distress! Now Don Gayferos
rides up to her, and, not fear