Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Holland: Vols. XIV–XV. 1876–79. | | | | Spain: Medina del Campo | | The Death of Queen Blanche | | Spanish Ballad |
| | Translated by J. G. Lockhart
“MARIA DE PADILLA, be not thus of dismal mood, | |
| For if I twice have wedded me, it all was for thy good; | |
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| “But if upon Queen Blanche ye will that I some scorn should show, | |
| For a banner to Medina my messenger shall go; | |
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| “The work shall be of Blanche’s tears, of Blanche’s blood the ground; | 5 |
| Such pennon shall they weave for thee, such sacrifice be found.” | |
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| Then to the Lord of Ortis, that excellent baron, | |
| He said, “Now hear me, Ynigo, forthwith for this begone.” | |
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| Then answer made Don Ynigo, “Such gift I ne’er will bring, | |
| For he that harmeth Lady Blanche doth harm my lord the King.” | 10 |
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| Then Pedro to his chamber went, his cheek was burning red, | |
| And to a bowman of his guard the dark command he said. | |
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| The bowman to Medina passed; when the Queen beheld him near, | |
| “Alas!” she said, “my maidens, he brings my death, I fear.” | |
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| Then said the archer, bending low, “The King’s commandment take, | 15 |
| And see thy soul be ordered well with God that did it make, | |
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| “For lo! thine hour is come, therefrom no refuge may there be.” | |
| Then gently spake the Lady Blanche, “My friend, I pardon thee; | |
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| “Do what thou wilt, so be the King hath his commandment given, | |
| Deny me not confession,—if so, forgive ye Heaven.” | 20 |
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| Much grieved the bowman for her tears, and for her beauty’s sake, | |
| While thus Queen Blanche of Bourbon her last complaint did make:— | |
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| “O France! my noble country,—O blood of high Bourbon, | |
| Not eighteen years have I seen out before my life is gone. | |
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| “The King hath never known me. A virgin true I die. | 25 |
| Whate’er I ’ve done, to proud Castile no treason e’er did I. | |
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| “The crown they put upon my head was a crown of blood and sighs, | |
| God grant me soon another crown more precious in the skies.” | |
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| These words she spake, then down she knelt, and took the bowman’s blow,— | |
| Her tender neck was cut in twain, and out her blood did flow. | 30 | | | |
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