Fernan comes, but misdoubting Don Sancho’s good faith, brings with him so numerous a retinue of knights and men-at-arms that no open attack on him is possible. But the Queen Doña Teresa, like a wicked fairy, steps in. “What matters,” says she to the fat Sancho, speaking within the recesses of the same Roman palace where Alonso prayed and fasted and Bernardo raged--“what matters how many he brings? We must befool him, flatter, deceive--thus you will take him. Make great show of favour to him, my son, cover him with false words, and unsuspecting he will send his people home.” The Conde de Castila, say the ballads, was a very proper man, in the full bloom of manhood, tall, slender, and gay; he wore his mailed armour with a wondrous grace on a perfect form, the red plume on his casque gave him a lordly air, and that he was brave and romantic his history will show. “Good, my kinsman,” says the king to him after many soft phrases, “you have brought with you to Leon the most perfect steed that ever I set eyes on. Methinks if I bestrode him in battle, I could laugh at the Moors.” “Greatly it pleases me,” answers the Conde, “that my mare should win your praise; she is a noble animal; a cross with an Arab mare. I pray you to accept Sila for your own.” “Nay,” replies the wily king, “that is not fair. Had you come with that intention, it might be otherwise; but, as I have induced you to so generous an offer, let us fix a just price, especially as the hawk you wear upon your wrist has greatly caught my fancy too. For horse and hawk we will settle thus: If the sum fixed on between us be not paid by this day year, it shall be _doubled_ every succeeding one.” “As you will, King Don Sancho,” the Conde makes reply. “I would have given them both freely to you; but so let it be.” Showing in this most cunning answer that, great _hidalgo_ as he was, he was not above accepting such moneys, as came in his way. Nor did the King of Leon disdain to make a bargain to his mind, which gave him both horse and hawk for nothing, seeing that he and his wicked mother did not intend the Conde to live. * * * * * Here they are interrupted by Queen Doña Teresa entering the chamber, preceded by her Jefe bearing a silver wand and followed by her dueña. A stately and commanding figure, even in middle age, and splendid in her apparel. The rings on her fingers are worth a king’s ransom; her widow’s coif is sown with pearls, and the edges of her long robe trimmed with a dark fur and jewels. A very imposing personage, Doña Teresa, who rules both her son and in the palace with a rod of iron. As Regent, she attempted to do the same with Castila, but the Gothic nobles and the Gothic church resisted, and put her down.