Rusilla at that moment that the child, For whom her supplications day and night Were offer’d, breathed the living air. Her heart Was calm; her placid countenance, though grief Deeper than time had left its traces there, Retain’d its dignity serene; yet when Siverian, pressing through the people, kiss’d Her reverend hand, some quiet tears ran down. As she approach’d the Prince, the crowd made way Respectful. The maternal smile which bore Her greeting, from Pelayo’s heart at once Dispell’d its boding. What he would have ask’d She knew, and bending from her palfrey down, Told him that they for whom he look’d were safe, And that in secret he should hear the rest. XV. RODERICK AT CANGAS. How calmly gliding through the dark-blue sky The midnight Moon ascends! Her placid beams Through thinly scatter’d leaves and boughs grotesque, Mottle with mazy shades the orchard slope; Here, o’er the chesnut’s fretted foliage grey And massy, motionless they spread; here shine Upon the crags, deepening with blacker night Their chasms; and there the glittering argentry Ripples and glances on the confluent streams. A lovelier, purer light than that of day Rests on the hills; and oh how awefully Into that deep and tranquil firmament The summits of Auseva rise serene! The watchman on the battlements partakes The stillness of the solemn hour; he feels The silence of the earth, the endless sound Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars, Which in that brightest moon-light well-nigh quench’d Scarce visible, as in the utmost depth Of yonder sapphire infinite, are seen, Draw on with elevating influence Toward eternity the attemper’d mind. Musing on worlds beyond the grave he stands, And to the Virgin Mother silently Prefers her hymn of praise. The mountaineers Before the castle, round their mouldering fires, Lie on the hearth outstretch’d. Pelayo’s hall Is full, and he upon his careful couch Hears all around the deep and long-drawn breath Of sleep: for gentle night hath brought to these Perfect and undisturb’d repose, alike Of corporal powers and inward faculty. Wakeful the while he lay, yet more by hope Than grief or anxious thoughts possess’d, ... though grief For Guisla’s guilt, which freshen’d in his heart The memory of their wretched mother’s crime, Still made its presence felt, like the dull sense Of some perpetual inward malady; And the whole peril of the future lay Before him clearly seen. He had heard all; How that unworthy sister, obstinate In wrong and shameless, rather seem’d to woo The upstart renegado than to wait His wooing; how, as guilt to guilt led on, Spurning at gentle admonition first, When Gaudiosa hopelessly forbore From farther counsel, then in sullen mood Resentful, Guisla soon began to hate The virtuous presence before which she felt Her nature how inferior, and her fault How foul.