The great hall of the castle is filling with lords and ladies, retainers and vassals. There is a sudden stir--’tis the entrance of the duke, dressed grandly, and wearing all his orders. He walks gravely to his grandee’s chair, and sits down as the crowd do homage. In those days--four hundred years ago--it was the custom to give shelter to any pilgrim who should demand it. Hence scarcely a day passed without “the castle” containing many guests of this sort. The don had hardly sat down when a servant approached and said that a pilgrim was at the gate, craving hospitality. Gravely and readily was given the order to let the pilgrim enter. The next moment a tall, upright man, dressed in the pilgrim’s loose sombre dress, came forward and up to the don as he sat in state. “I greet thee, noble knight.” “Good pilgrim, be at ease. Nor whence thou comest, nor who thou art, we do not ask. Be welcome for this day and night. My hospitality I promise thee.” “The deepest thanks I have are thine!” “We do not ask for thanks--the guest is as the lord. But stand aside, good pilgrim.” And the don rose and walked quickly to the door to meet a lady dressed in bridal garments. “My bride,” he murmured. “His bride,” said the pilgrim, throwing his cowl from his head a little, so that those who had chosen to look might have seen a handsome, brave face within it. “His bride.” “Senor--as well as others, a poor pilgrim should offer thee a marriage gift--I offer one of price--my head. Let no one fear--I will no resistance offer--I am Ernani!” “He lives--he lives,” said the bride to herself. The don’s face contracted angrily as he saw the pilgrim standing--his gown flung off--fearless among them. “Deliver me to the king--a price is on my head. Hark! they have tracked me even here. I hear the horsemen near the castle gate. Deliver me, and thou shalt gain a high sum for my head!” In those old times a brutal ferocity was atoned for by a kind of honor of which, in these degenerate days, we have but slight idea. Above all, the promise of hospitality was sacred, and to keep it inviolate the accorder would run all risk and dangers. When life was so unhesitatingly taken, perhaps this sacredness of hospitality was the only means whereby men lived in society. But for it each man would have kept to his own home as a wild beast does to its lair, and no more have trusted himself in his neighbor’s stronghold than that same beast would besiege another’s den. Hence the don, having promised to give hospitality to the pilgrim without conditions--awarding it to him no matter whence he came, or who he was, he was bound to save this guest from his pursuers, even though they were the royal troops themselves.