In old times, several hundred years ago, there was a noble Castilian
cavalier, named Don Munio Sancho de Hinojosa, lord of a border
castle, which had stood the brunt of many a Moorish foray. He
had seventy horsemen as his household troops, all of the ancient
Castilian proof; stark warriors, hard riders, and men of iron: with
these he scoured the Moorish lands, and made his name terrible
throughout the borders. His castle hall was covered with banners
and scimetars and Moslem helms, the trophies of his prowess. Don
Munio was, moreover, a keen huntsman; and rejoiced in hounds of all
kinds, steeds for the chase, and hawks for the towering sport of
falconry. When not engaged in warfare, his delight was to beat up
the neighboring forests; and scarcely ever did he ride forth without
hound and horn, a boar-spear in his hand, or a hawk upon his fist,
and an attendant train of huntsmen.
His wife, Doña Maria Palacin, was of a gentle and timid nature,
little fitted to be the spouse of so hardy and adventurous a knight;
and many a tear did the poor lady shed when he sallied forth upon his
daring enterprises, and many a prayer did she offer up for his safety.
As this doughty cavalier was one day hunting, he stationed himself
in a thicket, on the borders of a green glade of the forest, and
dispersed his followers to rouse the game and drive it towards his
stand. He had not been here long when a cavalcade of Moors, of both
sexes, came pranking over the forest lawn. They were unarmed, and
magnificently dressed in robes of tissue and embroidery, rich shawls
of India, bracelets and anklets of gold, and jewels that sparkled in
the sun.
At the head of this gay cavalcade rode a youthful cavalier, superior
to the rest in dignity and loftiness of demeanor, and in splendor
of attire; beside him was a damsel, whose veil, blown aside by the
breeze, displayed a face of surpassing beauty, and eyes cast down in
maiden modesty, yet beaming with tenderness and joy.
Don Munio thanked his stars for sending him such a prize, and exulted
at the thought of bearing home to his wife the glittering spoils of
these infidels. Putting his hunting-horn to his lips, he gave a blast
that rung through the forest. His huntsmen came running from all
quarters, and the astonished Moors were surrounded and made captives.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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