Strange hour to plight espousals! yielding half To superstitious thoughts, Favinia cried, And these strange witnesses!... The times are strange, With thoughtful speech composed her Lord replies, And what thou seest accords with them. This day Is wonderful; nor could auspicious Heaven With fairer or with fitter omen gild Our enterprize, when strong in heart and hope We take the field, preparing thus for works Of piety and love. Unwillingly I yielded to my people’s general voice, Thinking that she who with her powerful words To this excess had roused and kindled them, Spake from the spirit of her griefs alone, Not with prophetic impulse. Be that sin Forgiven me! and the calm and quiet faith Which, in the place of incredulity, Hath fill’d me, now that seeing I believe, Doth give of happy end to righteous cause A presage, not presumptuous, but assured. Then Pedro told Pelayo how from vale To vale the exalted Adosinda went, Exciting sire and son, in holy war Conquering or dying, to secure their place In Paradise: and how reluctantly, And mourning for his child by his own act Thus doom’d to death, he bade with heavy heart His banner be brought forth. Devoid alike Of purpose and of hope himself, he meant To march toward the western Mountaineers, Where Odoar by his counsel might direct Their force conjoin’d. Now, said he, we must haste To Cangas, there, Pelayo, to secure, With timely speed, I trust in God, thy house.