The book cover was modified by the Transcriber and added to the public
domain.
The Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber. The numbering
of the chapters in the table of contents follows the sequence observed
in the original images of the book, which is not successive. In the
original book not all the chapters that made up the original work in
Spanish had been included. The Translator mentions having taken some
"liberties" (sic) (see PREFACE).
For instance, in Book 3 and Book 4 of this edition a note by the
Translator is included at the end of Chapter V of Book 3 mentioning
that "there are here three chapters omitted, Chap. 6, 7, and 8, in
order to shorten the Story a little, and not possessing much interest
or merit."
Note 9 is listed at the end, but is missing in the main
text, however not clear if a consequence of the cuts made by the
Translator, as footnotes and the Notes listed at the end belong to the
Translator.
The spelling of Spanish names and places in Spain mentioned in the text
has been adjusted to the rules set by the Academia Real Española.
A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated
variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used
has been kept.
Punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected.
A Castilian of refined manners, a gentleman, true to religion
and true to honour, a scholar and a soldier, fought under the
banners of Don John of Austria, at Lepanto; lost his arm, and
was captured; endured slavery not only with fortitude, but
with mirth; and, by the superiority of nature, mastered and
overawed his Barbarian owner; finally ransomed, he resumed
his native destiny—the awful task of achieving Fame.
The world was a drama to him; his own thoughts, in spite
of poverty and sickness, perpetuated for him the feelings of
youth; he painted only what he knew and had looked into, but
he knew and had looked into much indeed; and his imagination
was ever at hand to adapt and modify the world of his
experience; of delicious love, he fabled, yet with stainless virtue.
CERVANTES: A Lecture, by Coleridge, in 1818.
THE WANDERINGS OF PERSILES AND SIGISMUNDA; A NORTHERN STORY.
BY
MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA.
LONDON:
JOSEPH CUNDALL, 168, NEW BOND STREET.
1854.
TO
THE HON. EDWARD LYULPH STANLEY,
IN MEMORY OF THOSE DAYS
WHEN HE AND HIS BROTHER
FIRST MADE ACQUAINTANCE WITH
THE WONDERFUL ADVENTURES AND TROUBLES OF
THE BEAUTIFUL PILGRIMS,
THIS WORK
IS INSCRIBED BY
THE TRANSLATOR.
PREFACE BY THE TRANSLATOR.
This Romance was the last work of Cervantes,
the dedication to the Count de
Lemos was written the day after he had
received extreme unction; he died four
days after, on the 23rd of April 1616, aged 67. On
that same day in that same year England lost her
Shakespeare.[A]
In the Preface to this edition, the Editor says,
"Not a few are there among the wise and learned,
who, notwithstanding the well-known merit of all the
works of the famous Spaniard, Miguel de Cervantes
Saavedra, and in spite of the oft repeated praises
lavished especially upon the Life and Deeds of Don
Quixote de la Mancha, which has ever held the foremost
place in the estimation of the public, yet give
the preference above all to The Troubles of Persiles
and Sigismunda, which I am about to present to the
public anew in this edition."
It seems, too, that this was the opinion of Cervantes
himself; for in his dedication to the Count de
Lemos, which is affixed to the second part of Don
Quixote, he says, "offering to your Excellency the
Troubles of Persiles and Sigismunda, a book I hope to
finish in about four months (Deo volente), which is to
be either the very best or the very worst hitherto composed
in our language, I speak of books of entertainment,
and indeed I repent of having said, the very
worst, because, according to the opinion of my friends,
it will reach the extreme of goodness."
Sismondi also says the same in speaking of this
work, and of its estimation in Spain; but he goes on
to observe, "a foreigner will not, I should imagine,
concede to it so much merit: it is the offspring of a
rich, but at the same time of a wandering imagination,
which confines itself within no bounds of the possible
or the probable, and which is not sufficiently founded
on reality. He has entitled this Romance 'A Northern
Story,' and his complete ignorance of the North,
in which his scene is laid, and which he imagines to
be a land of Barbarians, Anthropophagi, Pagans, and
Enchanters, is sufficiently singular."
The truth of this cannot be denied; but I believe
that it has never yet been translated into English,[B]
and, as it certainly possesses great merits in spite of
the absurdities, and a good deal of imagination as well
as beauty (though I fear much of the latter will be
lost in a translation) as a work of Cervantes it appears
to me worthy of being introduced to English readers.
The plan of the story is plainly imitated from Heliodorus,
Bishop of Tricca, in Thessaly, who in his
youth wrote a Romance in the Greek language,
called The Æthiopian History; or, the Adventures
of two Lovers, Chariclea, the daughter of the King
of Ethiopia, and Theagenes, a noble Thessalian. He
lived in the reigns of Theodosius and Arcadius, about
the end of the fourth century.
Few modern readers, I imagine, would have patience
to read this very heavy Romance; but in 1590,
when Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia was published,
stories of amusement and interest were not as plentiful
as in the present day, and it was a short time before
that Romance appeared, that a translation of Heliodorus's
Æthiopic History was published in England.
The edition which I have seen is translated by N.
Tate, the first five books by "a Person of Quality."
The date is 1753. The other editions are 1587,
1622, 1686.
But though the plan of Persiles and Sigismunda
is taken from Heliodorus, I do not think they have
any resemblance in style, and there is far more vivacity
and humour in the narrative and characters, and
more nature too, in spite of the high flown romance
that surrounds them.
I fear the modern reader will find the numerous
episodes tedious; and story after story, which every
additional personage we meet, thinks it necessary to
relate, will perhaps try his patience; yet there is great
beauty in many of these, at least in the original language.
The remarkable ignorance which Cervantes displays
on geographical points has a parallel in our own
Shakespeare, who makes Bohemia a country with a
sea coast.
Cervantes has evidently formed his ideas of the
North only by the voyages and travels that were published
at the time he lived. It is more surprising that
he should know so little of England, considering how
much his own country had been connected with her,
and also from the knowledge and information he displays
on other subjects.
The chief fault in the work is the remarkable want
of keeping; for whereas he at once determines the
period and date by bringing in the expulsion of the
Moors and Soldiers who served under Charles the
5th, also speaking of Lisbon as belonging to Spain, at
the same time he throws his personages into a perfect
land of Romance, and speaks of all the northern
countries, as if themselves, their manners and customs,
were utterly unknown and barbarous; yet Elizabeth
or James the 1st was reigning in England; the queen
of James the 1st was a Danish princess, and Denmark
and Sweden were assuredly not unknown to
fame.
In fixing upon Iceland and Friesland as the dominions
of his hero and heroine, he gets upon safer
ground, though by the way in which he speaks of
them, he evidently considers this a sort of mysterious
and only half understood land, which might serve a
wandering prince or princess of romance, for a home,
for want of a better.
The first and second part differ considerably; when
Cervantes gets home to his own bright clime and
sunny skies, you feel the truth of his descriptions,
which form a striking contrast to the icy seas and
snowy islands among which his pilgrims are voyaging
throughout the whole first volume.
I have taken some few liberties, omitted some
pages, and occasionally shortened a sentence, but I
do not think the English reader will feel inclined to
quarrel with these abbreviations, and the Spanish
student can refer to the original.
To those who feel for Cervantes as he deserves,—to
those who have enjoyed the rich fund of amusement
that Don Quixote affords, I need not apologise
further for making them also acquainted with these
wondrously beautiful and almost angelic pilgrims, who
were the last productions of his lively imagination,
for assuredly those blue eyes and golden ringlets must
have been most unlike the visions of beauty that
dwelt around him, in his own land of Spain.
Postscript.—For the Portrait of Cervantes, which
enriches the title page, I have to thank the great
kindness and friendly aid of one, who has gained a
distinguished name as an author, in the service of
both Spanish Art and Spanish History, Mr. Stirling of
Keir. I have also to acknowledge the courtesy of
Sir Arthur Aston, to whom the original picture belongs,
from which I have been permitted to take my
engraving; it was brought by him from Madrid, and
he found it in the possession of a family where it was
highly prized, and considered as an undoubted Portrait
of Cervantes.
July, 1853. L. D. S.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Mr. Ticknor has, since this was written, bestowed upon
us the unwelcome piece of information that this is a mistake,
in consequence of the English and Spanish Calendar differing
by ten days.
[B] Since writing this I find that there was a translation from
the French (not Spanish), in 1619, by M. L. printed in London.
Florian mentions two French Translations, both bad.
DEDICATION
TO DON PEDRO FERNÁNDEZ DE CASTRO,
COUNT OF LEMOS, ANDRADE AND VILLALVA,
MARQUIS OF SARRIA, ETC.
There is an old couplet which was famous
in its day, that began "With one foot in the
stirrup already." I could have wished in
this epistle of mine, that this was not so
much to the purpose as it is, for I may begin
nearly in the same words, saying—
"With my foot in the stirrup already,
And the terrors of death before my eyes,
I write, noble Marquis, to thee."
Yesterday I received extreme unction, and to-day I write
this. Time is short, fears increase, hopes diminish; yet,
nevertheless, I could wish my life prolonged enough to be
able once more to kiss your feet, so great would be my
delight in seeing your Excellency once again in Spain, that
it would almost be new life to me; but if it be decreed
that I am to lose it the will of Heaven be done; and at
least you shall know this wish of mine, and you shall know
that in me you had a truly loving servant, who would
have gladly done more than die for your service; and I
rejoice in the prospect of your Lordship's arrival, I rejoice
in seeing it even afar off, and again I rejoice to think that
the hopes I have entertained of your Lordship's goodness
will prove true.
There still remain unfinished in my head certain reliques
and fancies, "The weeks in a Garden," and of the famous
Bernardo, if I were so happy (but it could not be without
a miracle) that Heaven would prolong my life, you should
see them, and also the end of the Galatea which I know
your Lordship much admires.
May God preserve your Lordship, as he alone can.
Your Excellency's Servant,
MIGUEL DE CERVANTES.
Madrid,
19th of April, 1616.
PROLOGUE.
It happened then, dear Reader, that as I and
two of my friends were coming from Esquivias,—a
place famous for a thousand reasons,
first on account of its many illustrious
families, and secondly for its equally illustrious
wines,—I heard some one behind me pricking along
in great haste as if desirous of overtaking us, and even
proving it by calling out to desire we would not go so fast.
We waited, and a gray student mounted upon an ass came
up to us, gray—because his whole dress was gray. He
wore gaiters, round-toed shoes and a sword in a good scabbard
(contera).[C] He wore a starched band, with equal
braids; it is true he had but two, so that the band got
every minute awry, and he took infinite pains and trouble
to set it right. Coming up to us, he said, "To judge by
the haste with which you travel, gentlemen, you must be
going to court to look after some place or Prebendal stall;
My Lord of Toledo, or the King must be there at least,
for truly my ass has been famed for his paces more than
once, and yet could not overtake you?"
To which one of my companions replied, "It is the
horse of Senor Miguel de Cervantes that is in fault, for he
is a fast goer." Scarce had the student heard the name of
Cervantes, than alighting from his ass, his portmanteau
falling on one side, and the cushion whereon he sat, on the
other (for he was travelling with all his comforts about
him), he hurried to me and seizing me by the left arm,
cried, "Yes, yes, this is the crippled sound one, the famous
man, the merry author, the delight of the Muses."
I, when I heard so much praise poured forth in so short
a space, thought it would be a lack of courtesy not to answer
it, so embracing him round the neck (by which he
lost his bands altogether,) I said, "This, sir, is an error
into which many of my ignorant admirers have fallen, I am
indeed Cervantes, but no favourite of the Muses, nor deserving
of any of the encomiums with which you have been
pleased to honour me. Go and remount your ass, and let
us travel on together in pleasant conversation for the short
distance that remains of our journey."
The polite student did as I desired, we reined in our
steeds a little and pursued our way more leisurely. As we
travelled we spoke on the subject of my ailments, and the
good student immediately pronounced my doom, saying,
"This malady is the dropsy, which all the water in the
ocean would not cure, even if it were not salt, you must
drink by rule, sir, and eat more, and this will cure you
better than any medicine."
"Many have told me so," I answered, "but I should
find it as impossible to leave off drinking as if I had been
born for no other purpose. My life is well nigh ended and,
by the beatings of my pulse, I think next Sunday at latest
will see the close of my career, you have therefore, sir,
made acquaintance with me just at the right moment,
though I shall not have time to show myself grateful for the
kindness you have shown to me."
Here we reached the bridge of Toledo, over which my
road lay, and he separated from me to go by that of Segovia.
As to what will be said of my adventure, Fame will
take care of that, my friends will have pleasure in telling it,
and I greater pleasure in hearing it. He again embraced
me, I returned the compliment. He spurred on his ass,
and left me as sorrily disposed as he was sorrily mounted.
He had however furnished me with abundant materials for
pleasant writing, but all times are not alike. Perhaps a
time may come when, taking up this broken thread again,
I may add what is now wanting and what I am aware is
needed. Adieu to gaiety, adieu to wit, adieu, my pleasant
friends, for I am dying, yet hoping to see you all again
happy in another world.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] Contera, a piece of brass, tin or silver put at the end of the scabbard
to prevent the sword's point piercing through.
Periander is drawn up out of the Dungeon: he goes out to
Sea on a raft: a Tempest comes on, and he is saved by
a Ship.
Near the mouth of a deep and narrow dungeon,
which was more like a tomb than a
prison to its wretched inmates, stood Corsicurbo,
the barbarian. He shouted with a
terrible voice, but, although the fearful clamour
was heard far and near, none could hear his words
distinctly, except the miserable Clelia, an unhappy captive,
buried in this abyss. "Clelia," he said, "see that the boy
who was committed to your custody two days ago, be
bound fast to the cord I am about to let down; see that his
hands are tied behind him, and make him ready to be drawn
up here: also look well if among the women of the last
prize there are any beautiful enough to deserve being brought
amongst us, and to enjoy the light of the clear sky that is
above us." So saying, he let down a strong hempen cord,
and for some brief space he and four other barbarians pulled
it, until, with his hands tied strongly behind him, they
drew up a boy, seemingly about nineteen or twenty years of
age, drest in linen like a mariner, but beautiful, exceedingly.
The first thing the barbarians did was to investigate the
manacles and cords with which his hands were tied behind
his back; then they shook the locks of hair, which, like
an infinity of rings of pure gold, covered his head. They
cleaned his face, which had been obscured by dust, and revealed
a beauty, so marvellous, that it softened and touched
even the hearts of those who were carrying him to execution.
The gallant boy showed no sort of affliction in his bearing,
but with beaming eyes he uplifted his countenance,
and looking round on every side, with a clear voice and
firm accent, he cried, "I give thanks, O vast and pitying
Heavens, that I have been brought out to die where your
light will shine upon my death, and not where those dark
dungeons, from which I have just arisen, would have covered
me with their gloomy horrors; I would wish, because
I am a Christian, not to die in despair at least,
although my misfortunes are such as to make me almost
desire it."
None of this speech was understood by the barbarians,
being spoken in a different language from theirs; so, closing
the mouth of the cavern with a large stone, and carrying
the boy, still bound, among the four, they arrived at the
sea-shore, where they had a raft of timber fastened together
with strong filaments of bark and flexible osiers. This
contrivance served them, as soon appeared, for a boat, in
which they crossed to another island, about two or three
miles distant. They leaped upon the raft, and put their prisoner
seated in the midst of them. Immediately one of the
barbarians took a great bow that was in the raft, and fitting
into it an enormous arrow, the point of which was made
of flint, he quickly bent it, and looking the boy in the face,
made him his mark, giving signs as if he would shoot him
through the heart. The other barbarians took three heavy
poles, cut like oars, and whilst one used his as a rudder, the
other two impelled the raft in the direction of the island
before mentioned. The beautiful boy, who alternately
hoped and feared the blow of the threat'ning dart, rounded
his shoulders, compressed his lips, arched his brows, and in
deep silence asked in his heart of Heaven, not to be delivered
from this death, as near as it was cruel, but that he
might have strength given him to suffer. The savage archer,
seeing this, and knowing that it was not by this manner of
death he was to die; finding even in his hard heart some
pity for the boy, and not desiring to give him a protracted
suffering, still kept the arrow pointed at his breast, but put
the bow aside, and let him know by signs, as well as he
could, that he did not wish to kill him.
Thus it befell, when the raft reached the middle of the
strait, formed by the two islands, that there arose a sudden
hurricane, which the inexperienced mariners had no power
to withstand; the timbers that formed the raft, came asunder,
and divided into parts, leaving in one (which might be
composed of about six planks) the boy, who feared that the
waves would speedily overwhelm him, and that by this
death he was to die. Wild whirlwinds tossed the waters,
contrary blasts contended together. The barbarians were
all overwhelmed, and the planks, with the fast-bound captive,
went out into the open sea, passing over the crests of
the waves; not only impelling him towards heaven, but
denying him the power of asking compassion from it in his
distress: yet had Providence cared for him; the furious
waves that every moment washed over him did not separate
him from his raft, and he was carried by them into the
abyss. As he was bound fast, with his hands behind his
back, he could not assist himself, or make the smallest effort
to preserve his life.
In this way, as I have said, he went out into the open
sea, which appeared more peaceful on turning a point of
land into a bay, where the planks floated wonderfully, defended
from the raging and angry sea.
The weary youth felt this, and he looked around on
every side, till he discovered near him a ship, which was
lying at anchor in this quiet place as in a secure haven.
Those in the ship also perceived the raft and the figure
that was upon it. To satisfy themselves what this might
be, they let down their boat, and came to look at him,
when they found the disfigured yet still beautiful boy:
with speed and pity they took him to the ship, where the
sight filled every one with wonder and admiration. He
was lifted in by the sailors, and not being able to stand
from weakness (for it was three days since he had tasted
food), and moreover, being wetted and maltreated by the
waves, he sunk down all at once on the deck. Touched
with natural compassion, the captain kindly ordered that
he should have instant assistance to restore him.
Immediately some hastened to take off the ligatures that
bound him, others to bring odoriferous wines, with which
remedies the fainting boy returned as if out of death to life,
and raising his eyes to the captain, whose noble mien and
rich attire declared his rank, as did his speech also, he said
to him: "May the pitying Heavens reward thee, O compassionate
sir, for the good deed thou hast done. For all
the benefits bestowed on me I can make no return, such
are my misfortunes, unless it be with my gratitude; and if
it be allowed to a poor afflicted creature to say good of
himself, I know this, that in being grateful no one on earth
can excel me." And here he attempted to rise and kiss
the captain's hand, but his weak condition would not
permit this, for thrice he tried and thrice fell back on the
deck.
The captain seeing this, ordered him to be raised up and
carried below, his wet garments taken off, and that he
should be dressed in others, clean and good, and then left to
rest and sleep. They did as he commanded; the boy
obeyed in silence, and the captain's admiration increased
when he saw him thus attired: his desire to learn as quickly
as possible who he was, and what had brought him into
such a strait, was strong, but his courtesy exceeded his
curiosity, and he desired him to repose and recover from
his fatigues before satisfying his wish.
FOOTNOTES:
[D] The word is Trabajos which means troubles, sufferings, labours;
but I have preferred the word Wanderings, though not a right translation.
CHAPTER II.
He discovers who the Captain of the Ship is. Taurisa
relates to him the story of how Auristella was carried
off: he offers to go in search of her, and to be sold to the
Barbarians.
The boy was left by the seamen to repose,
as their commander had desired; but as
thoughts, sad and various, crossed his mind,
sleep refused to come near him. Another
cause, however, helped to banish it. This
was, certain grievous sighs and bitter lamentations, that
proceeded, as it appeared to him, from an apartment near
that where he was, and applying himself to listen, he heard
that some one said, "Sad and luckless was the hour in
which I was begotten, and under an evil star did my
mother cast me forth into the world, and well may I say
cast me forth, for a birth like mine may be more fitly
termed to be cast out than born; at least I thought myself
free to enjoy the light of heaven in this life, but thought
deceived me, since I am about to be sold as a slave, and
what misfortune can compare to this."
"O thou, whoever thou art," said the boy, "if it is true,
as people say, that sorrows and troubles when communicated
to others are alleviated, come hither, and through the
open chinks of these boards relate thine to me; and if thou
dost not find relief, thou shalt at least meet with sympathy."
"Listen then," was the reply, "and in a few words I
will relate the injustice that fortune has done to me, but
first I would fain know to whom I am speaking. Tell
me if thou art by chance a boy who has a short time since
been found, tied upon some planks, which they say served
for boats to the savages that dwell in the island near which
we have anchored, sheltering from the storm that has
arisen?"
"That same am I," answered the boy.
"Then who art thou?" again asked the invisible
speaker.
"I would tell thee," he replied, "if it were not that I
first wish thee to oblige me by relating thy history, which,
from the words thou hast uttered, I imagine is not as happy
as thou could'st desire it to be."
"Then listen," was the reply, "and I will briefly relate
the history of my misfortunes. The commander of
this ship is called Arnoldo, and he is the son and heir of
the King of Denmark, into whose power there fell (owing
to many extraordinary accidents) an illustrious lady, who
was my mistress, and according to my idea, she is of such
exceeding beauty that, from all who now live upon the
earth, and all which the most lively imagination or the
sharpest wits can conceive, she would bear away the prize.
Her prudence equals her beauty, and her misfortunes surpass
both. Her name is Auristella; she is of kingly race,
and is born of rich parents. She then, whom to describe
all praise must fall short, was sold as a slave, and bought by
Arnoldo; and with so much earnestness and devotion he
did, and does still, love her, that a thousand times he wished,
instead of making her a slave, to be himself her's, and to
acknowledge her as his lawful wife, and this too with the
full consent of the King, his father, who thought the rare
beauty and merits of Auristella deserved even more than to
become a queen; but she refused, saying, 'I cannot possibly
break a vow that I have made to continue a virgin all
my life, nor can I be made to violate this vow either by
entreaties or by threats.'
"But nevertheless Arnoldo did not cease to hope, trusting
much to the effect of time, and the variable nature of
woman; until it happened that my mistress, the Lady Auristella,
going to the sea-shore as she was accustomed for
her amusement, (she being treated more as a queen than a
slave,) some corsairs came in a vessel, and seized and carried
her off, we know not where. The Prince Arnoldo imagines
that these corsairs are the same who sold her the first
time, which same corsairs infest all these seas, islands, and
shores, stealing or buying the most beautiful maidens that
they can find in order to make a profit by selling them to
this Island where it is said we now are, and which is inhabited
by some barbarians, a savage and cruel race, who
hold among themselves as a thing certain and inviolable
(persuaded it may be by a demon, or as some say by an
ancient sorcerer whom they consider the wisest of men),
that there shall spring from among them a King, who will
conquer and gain a great part of the world. They know not
who this hoped-for king will be, and in order to know it,
the sorcerer commands them to sacrifice all the men who
come to the Island, and to make their hearts into powder,
which is then given in some drink to all the principal
savages in the island, with an express order, that he who
should take it without a wry face or appearing to dislike it,
should be elected King, but it is not he who is to conquer
the world, but his son. Also, he commands them to bring
into the island all the maidens they can procure, either by
theft or purchase, and that the most beautiful shall be delivered
immediately to the barbarian, whose succession has
been determined by the drinking of the powder. These
maidens purchased, or stolen, are well treated by them; in
this alone they are not barbarous; and they buy them at the
highest prices, which they pay in pieces of uncoined gold
and in precious pearls, with which the sea around these
islands, abounds. For this cause, and impelled by this interest
and desire of gain, many have become pirates and
merchants. Arnoldo then, as I have before said, fancies
that Auristella may be in this island;—she, who is the other
half of his soul, and without whom he cannot live: and in
order to ascertain this fact, he has determined to sell me
to the barbarians, so that I, remaining among them, may
serve as a spy to discover what he wishes to know, and
he is now hoping for nothing more than that the sea
should be calm enough for him to land and conclude the
sale. See then whether I have not reason to complain,
since the lot that remains for me is to go and live among
savages, where I shall not be beautiful enough to hope to
become their Queen, especially if her cruel fate should have
brought to this land the peerless Auristella. This, then, is
the cause of the sighs thou hast heard, and from this fear
arise the lamentations I have uttered."
She ceased speaking, and the boy felt a something rise
in his throat, and pressed his mouth to the boards, which
he watered with copious tears; and after a short space, he
asked if by chance she had any conjecture whether Arnoldo
had obtained the love of Auristella, or whether it was possible
that she, having elsewhere pledged her faith, had
disdained his offers, and refused the splendid gift of a
Throne; for it seemed to him, he said, that sometimes the
laws of human affection were even stronger than those of
religion. She answered, that though she had fancied there
was a time, when Auristella seemed to like one Periander,
who had taken her from her own country, a noble gentleman
endowed with all the qualities that could make him
beloved, yet she never heard her mention his name in the
continual complaints that she made to Heaven of her misfortunes,
nor in any other way whatsoever.
He asked if she knew this Periander, of whom she
spoke. She said she did not, but that by what she had
heard, she knew it was he who had carried off her lady,
into whose service she had entered after Periander left
her, owing to a very extraordinary incident.
They were discoursing thus, when Taurisa was called
from above (this was the name of her who had related the
story of her misfortunes). Hearing herself called, she said,
"Without a doubt the sea is now calm and the tempest is
over, and this is the summons for me, and I must be delivered
up to my hard fate. May Heaven protect thee,
who ever thou art, and mayest thou be preserved from
having thy heart burnt to ashes in order to accomplish
this vain and foolish prophecy, for the inhabitants of this
island seek hearts to burn as well as maidens to keep, in
hopes of its fulfilment."
They parted here; Taurisa went on deck; the boy remained
in deep meditation for a while, and presently he
asked for some clothes, that he might rise and dress himself.
They brought him a vestment of green damask cut
in the same fashion as the linen one he had on. He then
went on deck, where he was received by Arnoldo with kind
courtesy, who seated him by his side. Taurisa was there,
dressed in rich and graceful attire, after the fashion of a
water nymph, or a Hamadryad of the woods. So much
was Arnoldo filled with admiration for the youth, that he
told him the whole history of his love for Auristella and
his intentions, and even asked his advice as to what he
should do; and inquired if he thought the plan he had
devised to gain intelligence of Auristella, appeared to him
well conceived.
The youth, whose mind was full of fancies and suspicions,
in consequence of the conversation he had held with
Taurisa, and also from what Arnoldo had told him, now
rapidly revolving in his imagination all that might possibly
happen if by chance Auristella should have fallen into the
hands of the barbarians, answered thus:
"My Lord, I am not of an age to give you advice, but
I feel a wish to be of use to you, and to employ in your
service the life you have preserved and for which I have to
thank you. My name is Periander, I am of noble birth,
from whence springs my misfortunes and calamities, which
it would take too much time to relate to you at present.
This Auristella, whom you seek, is my sister, and I also
am in search of her. It is more than a year since I lost
her. By the name, and by the beauty, which you describe
her as possessing in such a high degree, I know without a
doubt, that this must be my lost sister, whom to find I
would give not only my life but the happiness I hope to
enjoy in finding her, and that is the very greatest degree
imaginable. Thus, I, being so deeply interested in this
search, am devising certain other means in my mind, which,
though it would be more dangerous as far as my safety is
concerned, would be more sure and speedy. You, my
Lord Arnoldo, have determined to sell this damsel to the
barbarians, in order that she, being in their power, may
discover whether Auristella is there likewise, of which she
is to inform you, returning again to sell another damsel to
these same barbarians, and if means do not fail her, Taurisa
is to find out whether or no Auristella is among the number
of those who are kept by the barbarians for the purpose
you are acquainted with, and who are purchased by
them with so much eagerness."
"It is even so," replied Arnoldo, "and I have chosen
Taurisa rather than any other of the four maidens who are
in the ship for the same purpose, because Taurisa knows
her, having been her waiting-woman."
"All this is well imagined," said Periander, "but I am
of opinion that no one will do this business so well as I
myself will do it, since my age, my appearance, the interest
I take in it, joined to the knowledge I have of Auristella,
are all inciting me to advise that I should undertake this
enterprise. Now see whether you agree with me in this
and delay not a moment, for in cases of danger or difficulty,
the advice and the undertaking should be settled together
at once."
The advice of Periander pleased Arnoldo, and without
weighing the difficulties that might arise, put it into operation
at once. And from many rich dresses which he had
provided in the hope of finding Auristella, they attired
Periander, who, in this disguise, came forth the most
graceful and beautiful creature that mortal eyes had ever
seen; since, unless we except Auristella, no other could
possibly equal the beauty of the boy. The mariners stood
in silent admiration; Taurisa, astonished; the Prince confused,
with a notion that he might possibly not be the
brother of Auristella, the consideration that he was a man,
troubled his soul with the sharp pang of jealousy which
can pierce even through adamant; that is to say, jealousy
breaks through all security and prudence, although the enamoured
heart be armed with both.
Finally, the metamorphosis of Periander being completed,
they put out a little to sea in order to be seen by
the barbarians. The hurry Arnoldo was in to hear something
of Auristella had prevented him from first ascertaining
from Periander who he and his sister were, and by
what accidents he had been brought into the miserable
condition in which he was found. All this, according to
the natural order of things should have preceded the confidence
reposed in him; but, as is common with lovers
(occupied solely by the thought of seeking means to arrive
at the desired end of their wishes, rather than in curiosity
concerning other people's affairs), he never found time to
enquire concerning that, which it would have been well
for him to have known, and which he came to know afterwards
when the knowledge did him no good.
They sailed off a little way from the island as I said before;
the ship decked out with flags and streamers, which
floated in the air, making a gay and beautiful spectacle.
The calm sea, the clear sky, the sound of the clarions and
other instruments of music, both warlike and joyous, filled
all hearts with admiration, and the barbarians who looked
on at no great distance, remained, as it seemed, doubtful
what part to take, and then all at once they crowded to
the shore, armed with the enormous bows and arrows I
have already described. A little less than a mile brought
the ship to the island, when after a discharge of artillery,
which she had both heavy and numerous, the boat was
lowered, and Arnoldo, Taurisa and Periander, with six
sailors, got into it, putting a piece of white linen at the point
of a lance as a signal of peace, this being customary among
all nations. What befell them, is related in the following
chapter.
CHAPTER III.
Arnoldo sells Periander to the inhabitants of the barbarous
isle, dressed as a woman.
As the boat approached the shore, the barbarians
crowded together, each one eager to
be the first to know who it could be that
was coming in it; and as a sign that they
would receive them peaceably, and not as
foes, they brought many bits of white linen, and waved
them in the air, discharging a number of arrows at random,
and jumping about with incredible agility.
The boat was not able to touch the land, because the
sea was low, for the tide in these countries rises and falls
like ours; but the barbarians, to the number of twenty,
came down through the wet sand near enough to touch
the boat with their hands. Among the men was a woman,
seemingly a barbarian, but of great beauty, and before any
one else spoke she said in the Polish tongue, "O ye, whoever
ye are, our Prince, or rather our Governor, desires
to know your names, whence ye come, and what it is ye
seek: if by chance ye bring any damsel to sell, ye shall be
well repaid for her; but if ye deal in any other merchandise,
we need it not; for in this island, we have, thanks
be to Heaven, everything that is necessary to human life
without needing to go elsewhere to seek it."
Arnoldo understood perfectly all she said, and asked her
if she was of the barbarian race, or whether she had perchance
been brought thither among those women bought in
other countries?
To which she replied, "Answer me what I have asked
of you, for my masters do not approve that I should speak
any other words than those which are necessary for the
negotiation."
Arnoldo hearing this, said, "We are natives of Denmark,
and our business is that of merchants and corsairs;
we barter what we can, we sell again what we buy, and
we dispose quickly of what we steal; among other prizes
that have lately fallen into our hands, is this damsel, (here
he pointed to Periander,) who being one of the most beautiful,
or rather I should say the most beautiful in the world,
we bring her here to sell, as the purpose for which you
buy them in this island has reached our ears: and if the
prediction of your wise men is true, you may well expect
from this unparalleled beauty and noble character, that
she will give you sons both beautiful and brave."
The barbarians hearing him speak, asked the woman
what it was he said. She told them, and four men instantly
set off, as it soon appeared, to inform the governor.
Whilst they were gone, Arnoldo asked if there were many
women who had been bought, now in the island, and if
any one amongst them was as beautiful as her whom he
had brought for sale. "No," answered she, "for though
there are many, not one is equal to me in beauty; I am in
truth one of those unhappy beings intended to be queen of
the barbarians, which would be the greatest misfortune
that could befall me."
The men who had gone now returned, and with them
a great many more, and their prince or chief, who might
be distinguished by the rich apparel he wore.
They had thrown a light and transparent veil over Periander,
that the brightness of his beauty might shine forth
more suddenly and dazzle the eyes of the barbarians, who
were surveying him very attentively. The governor spoke
to the woman, and the result was, that she made known
to Arnoldo his wish that the veil should be withdrawn.
They complied, and Periander standing up, displayed his
lovely countenance; his eyes were raised to heaven, as if
in grief for his sad fate, then the beams of those two bright
suns fell on the bystanders, and met the gaze of the barbarian
chief, who fell on his knees and made signs that he
was worshipping after his fashion, the beautiful image before
him. By the help of the female interpreter, in a few
words the sale was completed, and they paid Arnoldo all
he demanded without the smallest hesitation. All the
barbarians departed, but speedily returned, laden with a
quantity of large wedges of gold and long bags of fine
pearls, which, without counting, they delivered to Arnoldo;
who, taking Periander by the hand, gave him to
the barbarian, and bade the interpretess tell her master
that in a few days he would return, and bring them
another damsel, if not quite as beautiful as this one, yet deserving
of being purchased.
Periander embraced his companions with eyes full of
tears, which sprung not from any feminine weakness, but
from the recollection of the severe perils he had just escaped;
Arnoldo made the signal for his ship to fire her
guns, and the barbarian chief commanded his musical instruments
to sound, and in a moment or two the whole
place resounded with the noise of the artillery and the
savage music filling the air with confused and mingled din.
In the midst of all this clamour, Periander was lifted
out of the boat by the barbarians, and placed on dry land;
Arnoldo returned to his ship with those who had accompanied
him. It was arranged between him and Periander,
that, unless compelled by the wind, he should not go far
away from the island, but remain just so distant, as not to
be seen by the inhabitants, and return if it should seem necessary,
to sell Taurisa, if Periander made the signal agreed
upon as to whether he met with Auristella or not. And in
case she should not be in the island, no means were to be
lost to endeavour to liberate Periander, even though it
might be necessary to proceed to open war with the barbarians,
in which he would exert all his power and that
of his friends.
CHAPTER IV.
Auristella is taken from her prison in the disguise of a man,
in order to be sacrificed; a battle ensues among the barbarians,
and the island is set on fire. A Spanish barbarian
takes Periander, Auristella, Clelia and the Interpretess,
to his father's cave.
Among those who came to settle the purchase
of the maiden, was one named Bradamiro;
he was one of the most valiant and
illustrious men in the island, a despiser of
all laws, arrogant beyond all arrogance, and
daring as himself alone, for none other could compare with
him. He, believing, as every one else did, that Periander
was a woman, from the moment he first beheld her, determined
to have the beautiful prize for himself, without
caring to prove or accomplish the laws of the prophecy.
As soon as Periander had set his foot on the island, the
barbarians strove with one another for the honour of bearing
him on their shoulders, and with great joy and rejoicing
they carried him into a large tent, which stood in the
midst of many smaller ones, in a delicious and peaceful
meadow, all covered with the skins of animals both wild
and tame. The woman who had served as interpretess for
the bargain and sale of the fair captive, never quitted his
side, and in a language which he did not the least comprehend,
tried to console him. The governor then gave
orders that a message should be sent to the prison island,
and to bring forth a man, if they happened to have one,
in order to make a trial of their deluding hope. He was
immediately obeyed, and at the same time the ground was
spread with skins of animals, dressed, perfumed, cleaned,
and soft in texture, to serve as table-cloths; and on these,
without order or neatness, were placed various kinds of
dried fruits. At the sight and odour of this repast, several
of the barbarians began to eat, and by signs invited Periander
to do likewise. Bradamiro alone remained standing,
leaning upon his bow, with his eyes fixed on the supposed
woman. The governor bade him seat himself, but he refused
to obey; and after heaving a deep sigh, he suddenly
turned his back upon the party and quitted the tent. At
this moment one of the barbarians entered, and told the
governor that just as he and four of his companions had
reached the shore in order to pass over to the prison where
the captives were kept, a raft came in bringing a man and
the woman who was the guardian of the dungeon; which
news put an end speedily to the dinner, and the governor,
rising with all the company, hurried to inspect the raft.
Periander desired that he might accompany them, with
which they were well pleased.
By the time they reached the shore, the prisoner and
his keeper had landed. Periander looked at them to ascertain
whether by chance he knew the unfortunate creature,
whose hard fate had placed him in the very situation he
himself had so lately been in: but he was not able to catch
a full view of the face because he kept it hung down, and
seemed to wish it should remain concealed; but the woman
he knew full well, the woman whom they called the
guardian of the prison. He felt as if his senses failed him
when he looked at her, for clearly and without any doubt
he knew that she was Clelia, the nurse of his beloved Auristella.
Fain would he have spoken but he durst not, for
he knew not what to conjecture about her; and so restrained
his feelings and his tongue, and waited to see what
would happen.
The governor, impatient to hasten the trial which was
to give a happy and fitting mate to Periander, gave orders
immediately to sacrifice the boy, (for he seemed no more,)
that his heart might furnish powder for the absurd and
lying experiment which the sorcerer had ordained.
He was instantly seized by several of the barbarians, and
without any further ceremony than that of tying a piece
of linen over his eyes, they made him kneel down to have
his hands tied behind him, which he submitted to at once
without uttering a word, like a tame lamb expecting the
stroke that was to deprive him of life. But old Clelia, at
the sight, upraised her voice and cried out with more
vigour than might have been expected at her years—"Hold!
O great and powerful governor, and know what
you are about to do; for this youth, whom you are going
to slay, can in no way be of any use for the purpose you
require, seeing that he is the most beautiful woman imaginable,
and no man. Speak, most lovely Auristella, and
do not allow yourself to be deprived of life, overwhelmed
as you are by the torrent of your misfortunes, but put your
trust in that providence of Heaven, which has even now
the power to save and preserve you, and enable you to enjoy
it once more."
At hearing these words, the cruel barbarians stopped the
blow that was about to fall, for already had the knife
touched the throat of the victim. The governor instantly
ordered them to set her hands at liberty, and to unbind
her eyes, when looking upon her more attentively, they
saw that it was indeed the most beautiful face that ever
was seen; and each man present, felt, that except it were
Periander, no other living being could be compared to her.
But how can tongue express or pen describe what were the
feelings of Periander, when he saw that the now free, but
lately condemned victim, was his own Auristella? A mist
came over his eyes, his heart ceased to beat, and with weak
and faltering steps he hastened to embrace her, saying, as he
held her closely in his arms, "O beloved half of my soul,
O my pillar of hope, O prize, whether found for good or
ill to me, I know not, but good methinks it must be since
no evil can proceed from the sight of thee! Behold here
thy brother, Periander." And these last words he spoke
in a tone so low, that they could be heard by none. He
then went on, "Live, my lady, and my sister; there is
no cruelty in this island towards women. Trust in Heaven,
who since it has delivered you from the many perils and
dangers you must have undergone, will surely also preserve
you from those you have to dread henceforward."
"Alas! my brother," answered Auristella, (for she it
was who had been so nearly sacrificed as a man,) "alas!
my brother, how can I believe that this misfortune is the
last we have to fear! A joyful thing, indeed, it has been to
meet with thee, but in a most unhappy place and circumstances
we meet."
They wept together in speaking thus, which Bradamiro
seeing, and thinking that Periander wept with grief for
fear the newly-discovered friend or relation he seemed to
have found should be sacrificed, determined to set the
captive free, and at once break through every obstacle; so
stepping up to them, he seized Auristella with one hand,
and Periander with the other, and with a threatening air
and proud bearing, he cried with a loud voice, "Let no
man if he values his life at all, dare to touch even so much
as a hair of the head of either of these two persons. This
maiden is mine because I love her, and this man shall be
free because he is a friend of the maiden."
He had hardly spoken when the governor of the barbarous
isle, in mighty wrath and indignation, fitted a long
sharp arrow to his bow, and drawing himself back and extending
his left arm, he drew the cord to his ear with his
right. The arrow flew with so good an aim and with such
fury that it entered the mouth of Bradamiro,—stopped at
once his utterance, and separated his soul from his body.
Whereat all present remained astonished, surprised and as
it were in suspense—but the deed, bold as it was sure, was
not done with such impunity but that the perpetrator received
in the same manner the reward of his daring act;
for a son of Corsicurbo, the barbarian who was overwhelmed
in the storm when Periander escaped, more light
of foot than the arrow from the bow, in two bounds
reached the governor, and with his uplifted arm plunged
into his breast a dagger, which, although of stone, was more
sharp and piercing than if it had been of steel. The
governor closed his eyes in everlasting night, and thus by
his death Bradamiro was avenged. The greatest tumult
ensued among the friends and relations of both; all flew to
arms, and soon, incited by vengeance and rage, the arrows
flew on all sides, dealing death far and wide. When the
arrows were spent, as hands and poignards did not fail, they
fell upon each other without respect of kindred. The son
respected not the father nor the brother his brother, and as
among them were many enemies who owed one another
grudges for former injuries, they fell to work tearing to
pieces with their nails, and cutting with their knives, without
any one attempting to restore peace.
Now whilst arrows and blows, and wounds and death,
were busy all around, the aged Clelia, the interpretess
damsel, Periander and Auristella, all remained huddled
close together full of terror and dismay. In the midst of
the confusion a number of barbarians who belonged to the
party of Bradamiro, separated themselves from the combat
and flew to set fire to a wood not far off, where stood the
dwelling of the governor. The trees began to burn, and
the wind favoured the flames, till the smoke and fire increased
to such a height, that it seemed as if every one
would soon be first blinded and then burnt. The night
came on—very dark and dismal, the groans of the dying,
the cries of the fierce combatants, the cracking sound of
the fire, carried no terror into the hearts of the barbarians,
which were still breathing nothing but rage and vengeance,
but it filled with awe and fear those of the miserable little
cluster of persons, who knew not what to do or how to
find a refuge. But in this hour of alarm and peril, Heaven
forgot not to send succour of so new and remarkable a kind,
that it appeared to them a miracle.
Night had closed in, and as I said before, dark and
cloudy; only the flames of the blazing wood gave light
enough to distinguish objects, when a young barbarian
came up to Periander, and in the Castilian tongue, which
he well understood, said, "Follow me, beautiful maiden,
and tell the others who are with you to do the same, and
I will place you in safety, Heaven helping me." Periander
did not reply, but he rose up, signed to Auristella, Clelia,
and the interpretess, that they should pluck up courage
and go with him, and so, treading over dead corpses,
and trampling upon weapons at every step, they followed
the young barbarian who was their guide. The flames of
the burning wood reached very near to them, and lighted
them on their way. The advanced age of Clelia, and the
great youth of Auristella, made it difficult for them to keep
up with the rapid steps of the guide. Perceiving which,
the barbarian, who was young and strong, caught up Clelia,
and seated her on his shoulder; Periander did the same by
Auristella; the interpretess less delicate, and more active,
followed with manly vigour: and in this way, sometimes
mounting, sometimes descending, they reached the sea-shore,
and after coasting along for about a mile in a northerly
direction, the guide stopped before the mouth of a spacious
cavern, into which the tide came and went. They waded
through the water a little way, turning first to the right and
then to the left; and now narrowing, now widening, sometimes
bending almost double and crawling on the ground,
sometimes walking upright; they moved on till they came
out into what seemed to them an open plain, where they
might walk freely, at least so their guide told them, for
they could discern nothing through the darkness, as the
light of the burning forest, which still blazed fiercely, did
not reach them here.
"Blessed be God," exclaimed the barbarian, in the
same Castilian tongue, "who hast brought us here in safety,
for although there is still some danger to fear, it is not that
of death."
Then they saw that there approached rapidly a great light
like a comet, or rather a meteor, which seemed to move
through the darkness. They expected its coming with
some alarm, but the barbarian said, "This is my father
coming to receive me."
Periander, who could speak the Castilian language, though
not very fluently, said to him, "May Heaven reward thee,
O human angel, or whoever thou mayest be, for the kind
deed thou hast done; and even though our death should only
be delayed, we still gratefully acknowledge the benefit received."
The light now came near, carried by a person seemingly
a barbarian, whose age appeared to be about fifty
years. On approaching them he put down the light, which
was a thick pine-branch, and embraced his son with open
arms; asking, in Castilian, what had happened that he had
brought so large a company. "Father," he replied, "let
us go to our den, for I have much to say and more to consider.
The island is in a blaze; all the inhabitants are
now either ashes or half-burnt corpses. These few persons
that you see I have stolen from the fire and the knife
of the barbarians: let us go, sir, as I said to our retreat,
that my mother and sister may exercise their charity in
behalf of these poor weary and frightened guests."
The father acted as guide, and they all followed. Clelia,
now somewhat revived, was able to walk, but Periander
would not part with the lovely burden he had carried.
It was not possible that he should find that heavy, Auristella
being the sole joy he had on earth.
They had not gone very far when they arrived in front
of a high and steep rock, at the foot of which they perceived
a very narrow opening or cave, the walls and roof
of which were this same rock. Two women drest in
the barbarian costume, came forth with lighted pine-branches
in their hands. One was a girl about fifteen years
of age; the other, who seemed approaching to thirty, was
beautiful, but the younger one was surpassingly fair. One of
them cried, "Ah my father and my brother;" the elder only
said, "Welcome, beloved son of my affections." The interpretess
was amazed to hear any one speak in this country
(especially women who looked like the native islanders)
any language but the customary dialect, but when she was
about to ask them by what mystery they spoke the Castilian
tongue, she was prevented by the father bidding his
wife and daughter spread the hard floor of the cave with
woolly fleeces. They obeyed, placing their torches against
the walls. They then hastened to bring from an inner
cave the fleeces of sheep and goats, and other animals, with
which they adorned the place, and shielded their guests from
the cold they were beginning to feel severely.
CHAPTER V.
The account that the Spanish barbarian gives of himself
to his new guests.
Short and quickly finished was the supper,
but to sup without fear made it savoury.
They replaced the torches with fresh ones,
and although there was a good deal of smoke
in the apartment, it was warm. The dishes
on which the supper was served were neither of silver nor
china; the hands of the young host and hostess were the
plates, and the drinking cups were made from the bark of
some tree more suited to the purpose than cork would have
been. The young girl kept at a distance, and supplied
them with water, fresh, clear and cool. Clelia soon fell
asleep, for sleep is more welcome to age than any conversation
however pleasant it may be. The elder hostess
made her a couch in the inner apartment, of which the
mattrass and blankets were skins. She then returned to
sit with the others, to whom the Spaniard now spoke as
follows: "Although by rights I should hear your story
first, yet will I tell you who and what I am, that you may
conceal nothing from me after having heard my history of
myself.
"As my good fortune would have it I was born in
Spain, in one of her best provinces. My family is respectable
though not noble, I was brought up in affluence;
I learned grammar, which is the step that leads to the other
sciences, but my star inclined me rather to that of arms,
than of letters. In my youth I had no friendship for either
Bacchus or Ceres, nor had Venus any charms for me either.
Impelled then by my inclinations, I left my country, and
went to the wars, which at that time his Majesty the
Emperor Charles V. was waging in Germany with some
of its potentates. Mars befriended me; I acquired the
name of a good soldier. The emperor distinguished me,
I made friends, and above all, I learned liberality and good
breeding—one learns this in the school of a Christian soldier.
I returned home with riches and honours, intending to remain
some days there in order to enjoy the society of my
parents, who were both living, and of the friends who expected
me. But that which men call fortune,—for my part
I know not what she is,—envious of my tranquillity, turning
the wheel she is said to hold, threw me down from the
summit on which I had been placed into the depths of
misery wherein you see me now, using, as her instrument
wherewith to effect this, a gentleman, the second son of a
nobleman who had an estate near my home. He came to
our village on a festival-day. In the square there was a
circle of gentlemen of whom I was one. Coming up to
me, with an arrogant air and manner, he said, smiling,
'So you are a valiant soldier, Señor Antonio, and the
public talk of all Flanders and Italy has declared you to
be truly a most gallant and generous gentleman.' 'And my
good Antonio must know how glad I am to hear this,' I
answered (being myself this Antonio). 'I thank you a
thousand times, my lord, for the praise you bestow on me,
your lordship does well to honour your countrymen and
servants; but with all this, I would wish your lordship to
know that I gained my honours and rewards in Flanders,
but good breeding I inherited at my birth, and therefore I
deserve for that neither praise nor blame. But, nevertheless,
good or bad, I am your lordship's very humble servant,
and I beseech you to honour me according to my desert.'
"A gentleman who stood by me, and one of my particular
friends, said to me in not so low a voice but that the
young nobleman could hear, 'Antonio, my friend, how
you talk, one does not call Don Such a one,—My lord.'
Before I could reply the young nobleman answered, 'The
good Antonio speaks well, for he treats me after the Italian
fashion, which is to say—your lordship, instead of your
worship.'
"'I am perfectly well acquainted,' said I, 'with the
customs and usages of well-bred people, and in addressing
your lordship as my lord, it is not after the fashion of Italy,
but that I desire to give you your full title according to
the rank you bear in Spain; and I, being only a simple
gentleman and raised by my own deeds, am at least deserving
of the common forms of politeness from any nobleman
in the land, and he who fails in this (here I clapped my hand
to my sword) is not worthy to be called a gentleman.'
So saying, I gave him two cuts on the head, bestowed with
very good will, which took him so by surprise that he
hardly knew what had happened to him, nor stirred a step
in his own defence, and I awaited his attack, sword in
hand. His first surprise over, he drew his sword and prepared
to avenge himself with great spirit; but this was
prevented, partly by the blood that flowed from his wounds
and that the bystanders interfered, laid hold of me and
made me retire to my father's house, where the story was
soon told; my friends represented to me strongly the
danger I was in, and providing me with money and a good
horse, advised me to put myself in safety, since I had made
myself such great and powerful enemies. Accordingly I
did so, and in two days had passed the boundary of Aragón,
where I breathed awhile. In short, I determined to return
to Germany, where I intended again to enter the service of
the emperor, but there I was warned that my enemy and
many more were seeking me, with the purpose of taking
my life by any means they could. This, as was not unnatural,
rather alarmed me, and I returned again to Spain,
for I thought there could not be a safer asylum than the
home of my enemy. I saw my parents in the night time,
provided myself with money and jewels; with these I
came to Lisbon, and embarked on board a vessel which
was on the point of sailing for England, in which were
several English gentlemen, who had come out of curiosity
to visit Spain, and having seen all, or at least the best part
of her principal cities, were returning home to their own
country.
"It so happened that I was disputing a point of small
importance with one of the English sailors, in the course of
which, growing angry, I was obliged to give him a blow.
This excited the wrath of the other sailors, and in fact of
the whole crew, who seized every missile weapon that
came to hand, wherewith to assail me. I retreated to the
forecastle, and took one of the English gentlemen as my
shield, putting myself behind him, which mode of defence
so far availed me, that I was not instantly slain.
"The other gentlemen quieted the tumult; but on condition
that I should be thrown into the sea, or at least,
that I should be cast adrift in a small boat in which I
might return to Spain, or wherever Providence might send
me.
"This was done accordingly; they put me into the boat
with two barrels of water, one of butter, and some biscuit.
I thanked my protectors for the favour shown me, and set
out on my voyage with only two oars. The ship was soon
far away. Night came on, and I was alone in the middle
of the wide ocean, at the mercy of the wind and waves.
I raised my eyes to heaven, and recommended my soul to
God, with as much devotion as I could; then I looked
northward, by which I hoped to distinguish whither I
was going, but I knew not the place where I was. Six
days and six nights I went on thus, trusting more to the
mercy of Heaven than to my own exertions, for my arms
were quite tired with the continued work they had to do.
I abandoned the oars, unshipped them, and laid them in
the boat, to assist me again, when the sea permitted and
my strength returned. I laid myself down at full-length
on my back, shut my eyes, and there was not a saint in
heaven I did not invoke in my inmost heart to aid me.
It may perhaps be hard to be believed, that in the midst of
this my greatest need, there came upon me a very heavy
sleep, so heavy that I lost all sense and feeling; but in my
dreams imagination pictured all kinds of horrible deaths,—all
were in the water, and in one it seemed to me that
I was devoured by wolves and torn in pieces by wild
beasts, so that waking or sleeping, my life was a prolonged
death. From this not very pleasant dream, I was roughly
awakened by a tremendous wave, which washed over the
boat and filled it with water. I saw my danger, and hastened,
as well as I was able, to restore the wave to its parent
sea. My oars availed me nothing, though I again
attempted to use them. The sea was growing boisterous,
scourged and fretted by a south-west wind, which seems
to prevail more powerfully in these seas than in any others.
I saw that it was folly to oppose my little boat to its fury,
my weak and fainting strength to its fierceness; so once
more I laid down my oars, and let the boat run where it
pleased the wind and waves to carry it.
"I had again recourse to prayer, I renewed my promises,
I increased the waters of the ocean with the streams
that poured from my eyes, not from the fear of death that
seemed fast approaching, but from a dread of the punishment
my sins deserved. I do not know how many days
and nights I was thus a wanderer on the wide sea, which
became wilder and fiercer each day. At length I came to
an island which seemed to be inhabited by human beings,
although full of wolves which ran about it in flocks. I got
shelter under a rock near the shore, not daring to set foot
on land, for fear of the animals I had perceived. I ate
some of my biscuit, which was mouldy, but necessity and
hunger stop at nothing. Night came on less obscure than
had lately been the case, the sea seemed calmer and promised
better things for the coming day; I looked in the
heavens, the stars were shining, and all seemed to speak
of fair weather at sea, and tranquillity in the sky. I was
thus situated, when it seemed to me, by the doubtful light,
that the rock which served me as a harbour, was crowned
with wolves, such as I had seen before in my dreams, and
one of them (as was indeed the fact) spoke in a clear distinct
voice, and in my native tongue—'Spaniard,' it said,
'go away, and seek thy fortune elsewhere, unless it is thy
wish to die here, torn into pieces by our teeth and claws;
and ask not who it is that tells thee this, but give thanks
to Heaven, who has permitted thee to find pity even
among savage beasts.'
"I leave it to you to guess whether I was alarmed or
no; but my terror was not so great as to prevent me from
instantly profiting by the advice I had received: I shipped
the oars, took them in hand, and rowed with great vigour
till I was fairly out at sea once more.
"But, as it is common saying, that misfortunes and afflictions
disturb the memory of those who suffer, I cannot
tell how long it was that I was moving about in those
seas, finding not one, but a thousand deaths at every moment
staring me in the face; but at length a tremendous
tempest flung my boat and me upon this island, in the
same spot where is the mouth of the cave by which you
entered. The boat had got into the cave on dry land, but
the surf would return, and might carry it out again to sea,
which I perceiving, threw myself upon the sand, and digging
my nails firmly in, I managed to place myself out of
reach of the returning wave; and although with the boat
the sea would take away the means of saving my life, yet
I remained on the ground, well pleased at any rate to
change the manner of my death, and seeing life prolonged,
hope did not desert me utterly."
The Spaniard had reached this part of his story, when
from the inner apartment, where they had left Clelia,
were heard groans and lamentations. Periander, Auristella,
and the rest, hastened with lights to see what was
the cause. They found Clelia seated on the skins, her
back supported by the rock, her eyes turned up to heaven,
and almost in her last moments.
Auristella flew to her, and in tender and mournful accents
she exclaimed, "What ails you, my beloved nurse?
Is it possible that you are wishing to leave me thus alone,
at the very moment when I stand most in need of your
counsels?" Clelia turned herself a little round, and taking
Auristella's hand in her's,—"Yes, child of my love, it is
even so," she said, "I could have wished to live till I had
seen you placed in the condition that you deserve to be in,
but Heaven will not permit this, and I am resigned to its
will. All I ask of you, my own beloved mistress, is, that
if ever a happier fate should be yours, and any of my relations
should be living, you will let them know that I died
in the Christian faith, and in that of the holy Roman Catholic
Church. I would say more, but I cannot." She
then pronounced the name of Jesus several times, and
closed her eyes for ever; at sight of which Auristella also
closed hers, and sunk to the earth in a deep swoon; those
of Periander were as fountains—and as rivers, all the rest.
Periander flew to assist his Auristella, who returned to
life only to utter such lamentations, to shed so many tears,
and heave such sighs, as might have moved even hearts of
stone to pity. It was determined that the funeral should
be on the following day, and the young barbarian and his
sister remained to watch the corpse. The others retired
to rest during the short remainder of the night.
CHAPTER VI.
In which the Spaniard continues his Story.
Daylight was long in appearing, even to
the eyes of those accustomed to the gloomy
region, because the smoke and ashes of the
fire, which still continued burning, impeded
the sun's rays from shining on the earth.
The elder Spaniard ordered his son to go forth, as he was
accustomed to do, and learn what was doing in the island.
The others had passed the night in disturbed dreams;
Auristella could not sleep from grief for the loss of her
nurse Clelia, and her wakefulness kept Periander also on
the watch. They both went forth into the open space
before the cave, and saw how Nature had made and fashioned
it, as if Art and Industry had been at work to create
it. It was a circular space, surrounded by high and rugged
rocks, and, as well as they could judge, it appeared
that for the distance of a league in length, the place was
full of trees, which bore fruit, though sour, yet eatable.
Grass grew luxuriantly, for the water that issued from the
rocks kept up a perpetual verdure. They were admiring
this with some wonder, when the Spaniard, their host,
approached and said, "Come, my guests, and let us bury
the dead body—then we will continue the history which
I left unfinished." They followed him, and the remains
of poor Clelia were laid in a hollow of the rock, and
covered over with earth and large stones. Auristella begged
that a cross might be put to mark the spot, as a sign that
the person there buried had been a Christian. The Spaniard
said that he had a large cross in his dwelling, which
should be put above the grave. The last farewell was
given, and Auristella's grief burst out afresh, whose tears
instantly caused answering drops in Periander's eyes. To
wait the young barbarian's return, they all hastened to shut
themselves up in the cavern where they had slept, to escape
the cold, which threatened to be severe; and seated upon
the soft skins, the Spaniard claimed their attention, and
pursued his narrative as follows:—
"When I lost the boat which brought me to the sands,
by the returning waves which carried it away, as I before
said, with its departure fled my hopes of escape; nevertheless
I did not lose courage; I came to this spot, and
it seemed to me as if Nature had made and fashioned it
for a theatre, where might be represented the tragedy of
my misfortunes. I wondered that I saw no people, but
only some mountain goats and small animals of various
kinds. I surveyed the whole place, and found this cave in
the rocks, which I pitched upon at once as my dwelling.
Finally, having surveyed it all, I returned to the entrance
by which I had come, to try if I could hear any human
sounds, or find some person who might tell me where
I was. My good fortune, and pitying Heaven, which
had not quite forgotten me, sent a girl, a native of the
island, not more than fifteen years of age, who was searching
for shells and other marine treasures, among the rocks
and stones of the sea-shore. At sight of me she stopped,
her feet seemed as if nailed to the spot, the collection of
shells and sea-weeds fell to the ground. Taking her in my
arms, without saying a word to her, or she to me, I carried
her to my cave, and set her down in the place where
we now are. I kissed her hands, put my cheek to hers,
and by every means I could imagine, tried to show that I
only meant kindness to her. She, after her first alarm was
over, looked at me attentively with wondering eyes, then
touched me with her hands, and felt me all over. By degrees
she lost all fear, laughed and embraced me, and taking
out of her bosom a bit of bread, not made of wheat, but
after her own country fashion, she put it in my mouth, and
said something in her own language: I knew afterwards
that she was asking me to eat, and I did so, for in truth
I was in great need of some food. She then took me by
the hand, and led me to the stream, which runs not far
off, making signs that I should drink. I was never weary
of looking at her. To me she seemed an angel from
heaven, rather than a savage islander. We returned to the
entrance of the cavern, and there I tried by signs and
words (which she understood not) to persuade her to return
to me again. I embraced her tenderly, and she in
an innocent manner kissed me on the forehead, telling me
by signs she would come and visit me soon again. I went
back to this place and employed myself in finding out
whether the fruit, with which the trees were loaded, was
good for food. I found walnuts, filberts, and some wild
pears, for which I returned thanks to God.
"I spent the night in the same place, and longed for the
day, hoping again to see the beautiful islander, although I
was not without some fear that she would relate what she
had seen, and perhaps give me up to the barbarians, with
whom I imagined the island was inhabited; but this fear
left me, when I saw her at the opening of the cave the
following morning, beautiful as the sun, gentle as a lamb,
not accompanied by savages to seize me and take my life,
but laden with food to support it."
The Spaniard had reached this part of his story, when
the youth who had been sent out to gain intelligence, arrived,
and brought word that the island was almost entirely
destroyed by the fire, and nearly the whole of the inhabitants
dead, some by fire, and some by the knife. That
if any survived they had put out to sea in their rafts, to
escape the flames on land; that they might safely leave
their concealment, and go through the island, where they
were not prevented by the fire, and that each one must
consider what steps would be best to take in order to
escape from this accursed land; for all around were other
islands, inhabited by savages, but of less cruel and barbarous
natures; and, possibly, in a change of place, they
might change also their fortune.
"Be composed, my son, and stay quiet for a few minutes,
for I am relating the story of my adventures; and I am
nearly come to the end of these, though not, I fear, to the
end of my misfortunes."
"Do not weary yourself, my dear husband," said the elder
of the women, "by giving all the minute details which very
possibly may fatigue the hearers as well as the narrator;
leave it to me to tell all that remains to be told up to the
present moment."
"I am content to let it be so," replied the Spaniard,
"for I shall have great pleasure in hearing how you will
relate the story."
"Well then," said she, "the end of all these visits that
I made to this place was this, I agreed to call this man my
husband and to become his wife, according to the fashion
amongst Christians, which he promised he would observe, and
in this cave were born the son and daughter whom you have
seen. He taught me his language, and I in return taught him
mine; he also instructed me in the holy Catholic faith, and
he baptized me in the rivulet, although he told me he could
not do it with all the customary ceremonies of his native
land. He explained to me as well as he could his own
religion, and I received all he said in my inmost heart, and
gave it my full and entire belief. I believe in the Holy
Trinity, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy
Ghost, three distinct persons, and yet one God. He also
taught me how the Holy Roman Catholic Church is ruled by
the Holy Spirit, and governed by the Pope, who is priest,
vicar, and viceroy of God on earth, and the legitimate
successor of St. Peter, the first Pastor of the Church, after
Jesus Christ. Great things he told me about the blessed
Virgin Mary, the Queen of Heaven, and the shelter and
refuge of all sinners. Many other things besides he taught
me; but I think I have told you enough, to show that I
am a true Catholic Christian. I, simply, in pity gave to
him a soul rude and unpolished; he has informed and
Christianized it. I gave myself to him, thinking that in so
doing I committed no wrong, and the result of our union
has been the two children you see here, who will increase
the number of true believers. In return for all he has done
for me, I gave him a quantity of the gold with which this
island abounds, and some pearls which I keep by me, in
the hope that the day would come when we may be
delivered from this prison, and go where we can dwell
in safety and freedom.... Now it seems to me I
have told you all that my husband Antonio, who is also
called, The Spanish barbarian, wished you to know."
"That is true, my Ricla," he replied, for such was
her name; and all the company then expressed their great
interest in the eventful history they had heard, bestowing
upon them a thousand compliments and good wishes for
the future, especially Auristella, who had contracted a
warm affection for the mother and daughter.
The boy (who as well as his father was called Antonio)
now observed that it would not do for them to remain
idly here, without taking into consideration how they might
escape from their present hiding-place; for if the fire which
still continued burning, should extend over the hills, or if
the wind was to bring some sparks into their retreat, all
would speedily be consumed.
"That is true, my son," said the father; and Ricla advised
them to wait two days, for that there was one island
so near you could distinctly see it when the sun shone and
the sea was calm, and its inhabitants come occasionally to
sell and barter what they have and make bargains with the
islanders. "I will go forth," said she, "for none will
hear or impede me, since the dead cannot do either of these
things. I will contrive to buy a boat at whatever price
they ask, telling them that I need it in order to escape with
my husband and children who are shut up in a cave, to
shelter from the fire; but you must know that these boats
are made of the trunks of trees, covered with the hides of
animals, to prevent the water entering by the sides, and
according to what I have observed they can only be used
in calm weather, and they carry none of those bits of linen
cloth that I have seen in the boats which come sometimes
to our coasts, bringing men and maidens for sale, to feed
the superstitious follies that have long been the practice in
this island. Now, I believe, such boats as I have described
are not fit to trust to in the open sea, and encounter
the storms and tempests that are so frequent."
Periander enquired "whether the Señor Antonio had
never tried this experiment during all the years he had
been shut up here?"
"No;" answered Ricla, "because too many eyes were
upon me, and it would have been quite impossible for me
to find an opportunity for agreeing with the owners of the
boats, and making a purchase or finding an excuse for so
doing."
"That was the cause truly," said Antonio, "and not the
insecurity of the boats; but now that Heaven has sent me
this counsel I mean to follow it, and my good Ricla will
be on the watch for the merchants of the other isle, and
without haggling as to the price, will purchase a boat, with
all the requisite sea stores, saying that she wants it for the
purpose she has mentioned."
By degrees all came to be of the same opinion, and when
they left the cave and emerged into the country, they were
amazed to see what slaughter had been done by the flames
and by the fight; they saw death in a thousand different
shapes, of which senseless fury and angry passions had been
the inventors. They also observed that the barbarians who
had survived the slaughter, collected in their boats, were
at a distance, looking on at the conflagration of their homes;
and some they thought had passed over to the island which
served as a prison for their captives. Auristella was desirous
of going there also to see if perchance any wretched
creatures remained in the dark dungeon, but this was rendered
unnecessary by the arrival of a raft containing about
twenty persons, whose garb and appearance plainly showed
that they were the unfortunate prisoners who had been in
the dungeon. When they reached the shore they kissed
the ground, and even appeared inclined to worship the fire,
because they understood from the barbarian who had set
them free from their horrible place of confinement, that the
island was all in flames, and they had no longer anything to
fear from the inhabitants. They were kindly welcomed
by the little company, so lately themselves rescued, and
consoled in the best manner they were able. Some told
the story of their misfortunes; others were silent, unable
to find words to express what they felt.
Ricla was somewhat surprised that there should have
been a barbarian compassionate enough to have released
them, and that none of them who had taken to the raft
had (as they supposed) gone over to the prison island.
One of the captives said that the person who came to release
them spoke in the Italian tongue, and that he told them
all the miserable history of the burning island, advising
them to come over and to make themselves some compensation
for their sufferings, by taking possession of the gold
and pearls they would find in abundance; that he himself
would follow them on another raft which was left there to
keep them company, and devise a plan for getting free.
The various stories told by the captives were so different,
some so remarkable and extraordinary, and some so melancholy,
that they drew alternate tears and laughter from the
hearers.
Six boats were now seen approaching the island,—they
were those of which Ricla had spoken. They came to the
shore, but did not produce any merchandise, because none
of the islanders appeared to buy it. Ricla went to bargain
with these merchants for their boats, as she had arranged
she would. They would only part with four, keeping two
for themselves to return home in. Ricla was liberal, and
paid the price they demanded, at once, in pieces of uncoined
gold.
Two boats were given to the prisoners just freed from
the dungeon, and in the other two the party embarked. All
the provisions they could collect were put in one, and four
of the newly-released captives. In the other went Auristella,
Periander, Antonio and his son, with the fair Ricla,
the wise Transila, and the graceful Constance, daughter of
Antonio and Ricla.
Auristella, however, before she quitted the island, wished
to take a last farewell of the grave, where her beloved
Clelia was buried. She was accompanied thither by all her
friends, and shed many tears over the tomb. Then, returning
to the shore, amid tears of mingled joy and sorrow,
they embarked, having first knelt down on the sands and
offered up sincere and fervent prayers to Heaven for a
prosperous voyage, and to be guided where to go.
Periander took the command of his boat, the others
followed; but just as the oars touched the water, for sails
they had none, a light and active figure, in appearance one of
the barbarian islanders, cried aloud in the Tuscan tongue, and
said, "If any of ye in these boats are Christians, I implore
ye for the love of the true God, to take a fellow Christian
along with you." One of the men in the other boat then
said, "This is the person, gentlemen, who delivered us
from our horrible captivity, and if you are as good as you
appear to be, (he directed his speech to the party in the first
boat,) it would be well to repay him for the kindness he
showed to us, by receiving him into our company." On
hearing this, Periander ordered the boat which held the
provisions to return and take in the supplicant; this done,
they raised their voices in joyful chorus, took up their oars,
and with glad hearts, they began their voyage.
CHAPTER VII.
They embark and quit the barbarous Isle, and discover
another Island.
Four miles, or thereabouts, the four boats
had gone, when they discovered a large ship,
which going before the wind, with all her
sails set, seemed coming on to attack them.
Periander on seeing her said, "Without a
doubt this must be Arnoldo's ship returning to know what
has happened to me, and now what is there I would not
give to avoid seeing him!" Periander had told Auristella
the whole of what had passed between him and Arnoldo,
and what had been agreed upon by them to do.
Auristella was alarmed, for she did not wish to fall into
the power of Arnoldo. We have already related, though
briefly, all that had happened in the year during which she
had been in his hands. The lovers did not desire that he
should see them together, as, supposing even that he should
be satisfied with the story of their feigned relationship as
brother and sister, there was still always a fear that the true
history of their parentage might be discovered; and more
than this, how could she be certain that Periander would
not be jealous with such strong excitement before his eyes?
For what prudence will avail, what confidence has the
lover, when, by mischance, jealous suspicions find a place in
his breast?
However, all this was settled at once by the wind suddenly
changing, which gave the sails of the advancing vessel
a contrary direction, so that, in one short moment, they
were lowered and again set in another, even to the topsails,
and the ship began to run before the wind, in exactly
the opposite course to that she had just come, quickly
leaving the boats far behind. Auristella breathed again,
Periander recovered his spirits, but the other passengers
in the boats would have rejoiced to change their situation,
and to have been taken on board the ship whose size promised
them greater security and a better voyage. In less
than two hours she was out of sight; they might follow if
they could, but it was impossible. All they were able to
do was to make for another island, whose high snow-covered
mountains, gave it the appearance of being near,
but in reality it was more than six leagues distant.
Night closed in very darkly; the wind rose and was in
their favour, which was a great relief to the rowers, who
made all possible haste to reach the island. According to
Antonio's calculation it was midnight when they arrived.
In order to bring their boats in, the surf not being high,
they ran them ashore, and pushed them in with their arms.
The night was so cold it forced them to seek a shelter from
the frost, but they found none. Periander gave orders that
all the women should get into the largest boat, and keep
close together, to preserve themselves as much as possible
from the cold. They did so, and the men made a bodyguard
round the boat, walking up and down, waiting for
the day to dawn, that they might discover where they were,
for at present they could not tell whether the island was
inhabited or not. As it is natural that anxiety should
banish sleep, not one of all this company could close their
eyes, which Antonio perceiving, he told the Italian barbarian
that, in order to pass away the time and beguile the
long hours of this weary night, it would be as well if he
was to amuse them by relating the events of his life, as, in
all likelihood, they must be wonderful and varied, since
they had placed him in the situation and circumstances
where they had found him.
"I will do this willingly," replied the Italian, "although
I fear that none will give their belief to them, so many, so
new, and so extraordinary are they."
"Our own adventures and the strange things we have
seen, have taught and disposed us to believe anything we
may be told, even if it should lean more to the improbable
than the probable," answered Periander.
"Let us then," said the Italian, "come here alongside
of the boat where the ladies are; perhaps the sound of my
voice may lull some of them to sleep, and perchance some
one from whose eyelids sleep is banished, may show compassion.
It is a consolation to feel in relating a history of
misfortunes, that others can weep with one."
"At least for my part," cried Ricla from the boat, "in
spite of sleep, I have tears to offer, and sympathy to give,
to your hard fate and the long period of your sorrows."
Auristella said the same; so all the party assembled round
the boat, and lent an attentive ear to what the seeming
barbarian was about to say. He commenced his narrative
in the following words.
CHAPTER VIII.
In which Rutilio gives an account of his Life.
"My name is Rutilio, my native place Sienna,
one of the most famous of Italian cities, my
profession that of a dancing-master: I excelled
in this, and if I had pleased I might
have been fortunate in it. There lived in
Sienna a rich gentleman, to whom Heaven had given a
daughter, more beautiful than discreet. Her father intended
her to marry a Florentine gentleman, and that she
might be adorned with every accomplishment that could
be acquired, since the gifts of the understanding were wanting,
he wished that I should teach her to dance, as grace
and elegance of motion is more displayed in modest dances
than in anything, and is indispensable for all ladies of
quality. I began by teaching her how to move the body, but
ended in also moving her heart. She having, as I said before,
but little discretion, gave hers to me, and destiny,
which then began the long current of my misfortunes, so
willed it that I carried her off from her father's house, and
we set out intending to go to Rome, that we might enjoy
one another's company. But as love does not bestow his
favours cheaply, and crimes ever bring punishment in their
train (which should always be kept in mind), we were overtaken
on the road by her father, so great was the diligence
he made to seek for us. Her defence and mine, which was
simply that I was carrying off my wife, and her's, that she
was going with her husband, was only an aggravation of my
crime, which moved and disposed the judge to sentence me
to death. I was thrown into prison with those condemned
for other crimes more dishonourable than mine. In the
prison I was visited by a woman who was accused of
"fatucherie," which would in the Castilian tongue be
called witchcraft. She had been taken out of her confinement
by the jailor's wife, in order that she might cure her
daughter of a complaint which the doctors failed in comprehending,
by her herbs and spells. Finally, to make my
story short, since there is no reason why being good it
should also be long; seeing me thus fast-bound, the cord
at my throat, sentenced to death, without a hope, or chance
of mercy, the witch said that if I would consent to marry
her and take her for my wife, she would release me from
this peril. She told me not to fear, for that on the very
same night of the day when we held our conversation, she
would break the chains and manacles, and in spite of all
other obstacles, would set me at liberty, and in a place
where I should be quite safe from the pursuit of my enemies,
however great and powerful they might be.
"To me she seemed no witch, but an angel sent from
Heaven, to rescue and save me. I waited for night, and
in the depth of its silence she came; she bade me grasp the
end of a cane, which she put into my hand, telling me to
follow her. I felt somewhat alarmed, but as the case was
urgent, I rose to comply, and followed her, finding myself
free from chains, and bolts and bars removed, everywhere
the prison doors were open, and prisoners and jailors, all
alike, wrapt in profound sleep. When we reached the
street, my guide spread upon the ground a cloak, and desired
me to stand upon it, bidding me be of good heart,
but that for a time I must suspend my devotions. I instantly
perceived that this was a bad sign; instantly I knew
that she was going to carry me through the air; and although
as a well-educated Christian, I had been taught
that there was no truth in all the stories of witchcraft, and
considered them as mere fictions, which was very natural,
still the danger I had been in, and the fear of speedy death,
hurried me so much, that I set my foot upon the mantle,
and she, murmuring some words I did not hear, the
cloak, with us upon it, began to rise into the air, and I
began to be horribly afraid, and in my heart there was
not a saint in the Litany I did not call to my aid: she
seemed aware of my fear, and suspected my invocations,
for again she bade me leave them off. Miserable as I
am, said I, what good can I expect, if I refuse to ask
it of God, from whom all good comes? However, I shut
my eyes, and resigned myself to be carried away by demons,
for such are the post horses of witches; it seemed
to me about four hours or more that we had travelled,
when at the dawn of day, I found myself in an unknown
country.
"The cloak touched the ground, and my guide said, 'You
are now safe, friend Rutilio, and in a place, where none of
human race can harm you;' and saying this, she clasped
me in her arms, to embrace me in a very shameless manner.
I repulsed her, when, as it appeared to me, she, who had
just embraced me, bore the shape of a wolf, which sight
made my blood freeze within me, and disturbed my senses;
but, as it often happens that in the worst perils, the very
absence of hope makes one gain strength from despair, so
mine impelled me to seize a knife I had with me by
chance, which I plunged into the heart of what seemed to
me a wolf, with such fury, that she fell on the earth, and
in falling she lost her enchanted form, and I saw the miserable
sorceress lying before me a bleeding corpse.
"Conceive, sirs, what a condition for me, alone, in an
unknown land, without any one to guide me. I remained
expecting that day would dawn at last, but it came not,
nor could I discern the faintest sign in the horizon that the
sun was rising. I removed to a distance from the corpse
of the sorceress, for it caused me a feeling of horror to be
near it. Frequently I raised my eyes to heaven, contemplating
the motions of the stars, and it seemed to me by
the course they had made that it ought to be day. I was
in this dilemma, when I suddenly heard voices, and hastening
towards the place whence these sounds proceeded,
I called out in the Italian tongue, and asked, what country
I was in. I was answered in the same language, 'This
land is Norway; but who art thou that askest this question,
and in a language few here understand?'
"'I am,' I replied, 'a miserable wretch, who, to escape
death, have come here to meet it in another shape;' and
then I briefly related the history of my journey, and also
the death of the witch. He to whom I spoke seemed
to compassionate me, and said, 'Then, good man, return
infinite thanks to Heaven for having saved thee from the
power of these accursed witches, of whom there is an
abundance in these northern parts. It is said of them, that
they change themselves into wolves, male and female, for
there are both sorcerers and sorceresses. How this can
be I know not, and, as a good Catholic Christian, I do not
believe it; but nevertheless, experience proves the contrary,
and all I can make out of it is, that such transformations
are illusions of the evil one, and by God's permission
as a punishment for the abominable sins of this accursed
sort of persons.'
"I asked him what hour it might be, for it appeared
to me the night was long, and the day slow in coming.
He told me, that the year in these countries was divided
into four parts; three months of total night, when the sun
never shone upon the earth at all; and three months of
twilight, neither night nor day; there were also three
months of perpetual day, when the sun was never hid,
and three more of a night twilight; that the present season
was the day twilight, and it was a vain hope to look
for the light of the sun; and that it would be equally
hopeless to look for a return to my own country, except
during the season when it was always day, at which time
ships sailed from these parts to England, France, and Spain,
with various sorts of merchandise. He asked me if I
knew of any way of gaining my bread, till the time should
arrive when I could hope to return home to my own
land. I told him I was a dancer, and a wonderful man
for cutting capers, and that I knew a good many sleight of
hand tricks. The man laughed aloud, and told me that
these exercises, or employments, or whatever I was pleased
to call them, would not avail me much, in Norway, or in
any of these parts. He asked me if I knew what a goldsmith's
business was. I told him I had skill to learn anything
he could teach me.
"'Then come along brother,' said he, 'but first, let us
go and bury this miserable creature.'
"We did so, and then he took me to a city where all
the inhabitants walked about the streets, carrying lighted
pine-branches in their hands, and so transacting the business
of daily life. As we went along I enquired how and when
he had come to this country, and if he really was Italian.
He replied that one of his ancestors had married and settled
here, having come to transact some important business, and
that he had taught all his children his native language, and
so it had descended to all his posterity until it had reached
him, who was one of his cousins four times removed....
I could tell you much of the house where I was received,
of the wife and children I found there, and servants of
whom he had many, of his immense possessions, of the
kind and hospitable reception I met with, but it would be
to go on for ever; enough to tell you briefly that I learned
his business, and in the space of a few months, could gain
my own livelihood.
"At last there came a day when my master and patron,
for so I might call him, gave orders that a quantity of his
merchandise should be got ready to carry to some of the
neighbouring islands, and to some which were very far
distant. I accompanied him as much out of curiosity as a
desire to sell what I had of my own property, in which
voyage I saw many wonderful and fearful things, and others
amusing and pleasant. I took note of manners, and customs,
and ceremonies, unknown elsewhere. In fine, at the end of
two months, we were overtaken by a tempest that lasted
nearly forty days, at the end of which we were cast upon
the island, from whence we have just escaped, among some
rocks whereon our vessel went to pieces, and not one of its
crew escaped alive but myself."
CHAPTER IX.
Wherein Rutilio continues his Story.
"The first thing that offered itself to my sight
was the body of a barbarian hanging to a
tree, by which I knew that I was in a
country of savages, and immediately fear
placed before my eyes a thousand different
modes of death. Not knowing precisely which to dread,
I expected and feared them all by turns. At last, since
necessity is said to be the mother of invention, I bethought
myself of an experiment, extraordinary enough; this was,
to pull the dead barbarian off his bough, and having taken
off all my own clothes, which I buried in the sand, to
dress myself in his, which easily fitted, seeing they were
made only of the skins of animals, not cut or fashioned in
any way, but fastened round the waist, as you have seen.
To conceal my foreign tongue, and that I might not be
known to be a stranger, I pretended to be deaf and dumb,
and in this guise I proceeded further into the island,
jumping and making fantastic capers in the air.
"At a short distance I perceived a great number of the
barbarians who flocked round me, and one and all asked
(as I have since known) who I was, and whence I came,
and whither I was going. I answered by keeping silence
and making all the signs I could devise, again beginning to
jump and cut capers in the air. I was followed by all the
boys, let me go where I would, and thus I passed for a
dumb barbarian, and the boys gave me food in return for
my capers and merry-andrew tricks. In this way I have
lived three years among them, and might pass all my life
without being discovered. I paid great attention to their
language, and learned to speak it very tolerably. I heard
the prophecy about the duration of their kingdom, which
had been pronounced by a very ancient and wise man, in
whom they placed implicit credit. Many men have I seen
sacrificed in order to accomplish it, many maidens I have
seen purchased for the same purpose, until the conflagration
of the island which you, sirs, have witnessed with your
own eyes.
"I escaped from the flames and hastened to warn the
prisoners in the dungeon, where you all no doubt have
been. I saw these boats and flew to the shore, where in
your generous bosoms I found an answer to my entreaties,
and was received on board by you, for which I thank you
with my whole heart; and now I put my trust in Heaven,
since we have been delivered from so many and such great
dangers, that we may be favoured with a happy and prosperous
voyage."
Here Rutilio ceased speaking, leaving his hearers wondering
and much interested by all he had told.
Day came on, sharp and cold, stormy, and threatening a
snow-storm. Auristella now gave Periander something that
Clelia had delivered into her hands the night on which she
died. It was two waxen balls, one of which enclosed a
magnificent diamond cross of inestimable value; the other
contained two pearls, also of immense price. These jewels
showed that Periander and Auristella were persons of great
consequence, although this was more plainly proved by
their noble bearing and good manners. As the day advanced,
Antonio made a little excursion inland, but could
discover nothing but high mountains covered with snow,
and returning to the boats, he said, the island seemed uninhabited,
and he thought it would be better for them to
seek elsewhere some land where they might be sheltered
from the extreme cold that threatened them, and to provide
themselves with food of which they should shortly
stand in need. The boats were accordingly launched into
the sea, and they all embarked and directed their course towards
another island they discovered not very far off. As
they were making way with all the speed two oars could accomplish,
for each boat had no more, a voice, low and melodious,
was heard to proceed from one of the two other
boats, so sweet that they all listened to it with attention.
It was remarked, especially by the elder Antonio, that the
song was in the Portuguese tongue, which he understood
perfectly. The voice ceased, but shortly after began again
to sing in Castilian, in time to the motion of the oars, which
impelled the boats gently through a tranquil sea; the words
he sang were as follows.
Upon a tranquil sea
With fav'ring winds
And starry sky,
And by a pleasant way,
Unknown, yet sure,
Thy strange and wondrous bark,
Her course shall ply,
Borne onwards to a port,
Safe and secure.
Onwards direct and straight
Her course she steers,
Nor upon Scylla, nor Charybdis driven,
Nor hidden rocks,
Nor secret perils, fears,
Honour, the end and aim, for which she thus hath striv'n.
Let not thine efforts fail,
Even though hopeless seem,
The distant haven;
Nor once remit thy toil,
Nor ever slacken sail.
True love can never change,
And only he,
Will prosp'rous be,
Who firm and true remains,
Nor ever seeks to range.
Ricla, as the voice ceased, said, "This songster must
needs be an idle soft creature, who at such a time as this
fills the air with his voice," but Periander and Auristella
judged otherwise. They thought the singer was more of a
lover than an idle fellow. Those who love quickly recognize
the passion in another, and seek fellowship with
them who know how to pity and sympathize with their
own weaknesses. So with the leave of the rest of the
party in the boat, although it was hardly necessary to ask
it, they requested the singer to step into their boat, as much
to enjoy hearing his voice better as to learn his history, for
it was evident that a person who could sing at such a time
must either feel a great deal, or not at all.
The boats joined, and the singer stepped from his into that
where Periander and his party were, who all received him
very courteously. As he entered, the new comer said, half
in Portuguese and half in Castilian, "I owe to Heaven and
to you, and to my voice, this agreeable change for the better
into your boat; albeit I believe I shall not long encumber
it with the load of my body, for the heavy sorrows I have
in my heart are such that I feel my life holds by a single
thread."
"Heaven may help thee yet," said Periander, "for I am
a living proof that there are no sorrows or miseries that
can kill any one."
Here Auristella joined in the conversation and said,
"That is not hope which merely puts away and resists
misfortune, but as the light shines brightest in darkness so
is hope most firm in time of trouble, and despair is the
feeling of only coward souls. There is no cowardice or
meanness greater than to give oneself up to despair."
"I believe this truly," answered the singer, "notwithstanding,
and in spite of, the sad experience I have known
in the course of my life."
They continued rowing as they discoursed, so that before
night they reached another island also uninhabited, but
there were trees upon it, and many of them, and full of
fruit, though dried, and past the season, yet fit to eat.
They leaped ashore, drew up their boats, and began with
great speed to despoil the trees, and make a hut to keep
themselves from the cold that night; they also kindled a
fire by rubbing dry sticks together, a common and well-known
practice, and as all worked, it was not long before
they had built up this poor shelter, where they all assembled,
supplying the inconveniences of the place by a good
fire, this appearing to all the first thing necessary to their
comfort. After satisfying their hunger they would have
prepared themselves to sleep, if it had not been that the
desire Periander felt to learn the adventures of the musician
prevented him, and he entreated that he would, if it were
possible, let them hear the story of his misfortunes, for
misfortunes they must have been, to have brought him into
such a situation.
The singer was courteous and without more entreaty,
began thus.
CHAPTER X.
The Story of the enamoured Portuguese.
"In the briefest possible words with which a
tale can be told, I will give you the history
of my life, which will itself be brief also, if
I am to give any credit to a certain dream
which disturbed my repose last night.
"I am, sirs, a Portuguese, of noble blood, rich in fortune's
gifts, and not poor in those of nature. My name is Manuel
de Sosa Coutiño; Lisbon my native place; and my profession
that of a soldier. Near my father's house, with only
a wall between, was that of another gentleman, of the
ancient family of the Pereiras, who had an only daughter,
sole heiress of his wealth, which was great, the hope and
prop of her family, who, for her high birth, riches, and
beauty, was sought in marriage by all the best and greatest
of the land; and I, who as a near neighbour, had many
opportunities of seeing her, saw her, knew her, and adored
her, with but a faint hope of ever obtaining her as my wife.
To save time, and knowing that neither words nor gifts
would avail, I determined that one of my relations should
ask her of her father for me, since neither in birth, nor condition,
nor yet in age, was there any difference between
us. The answer I obtained was, that his daughter Leonora
was as yet too young to marry; that two years should
pass, and that he would give his promise not to dispose of
his daughter during that time without letting me know of
it. This was the first blow upon the shoulders of my
patience, and on the shield of my hopes; but not for this
did I cease to declare publicly my open suit, which was soon
known throughout the city; but she, retired into the citadel
of her prudence and the recesses of her discretion, modestly
and with her father's permission, accepted my service, and
gave me to understand, that, if she did not return my
attentions, they were at least not displeasing to her.
"It happened that at this moment I was sent by the king
to command one of his armies in Barbary, a post of great
importance and trust. The hour for parting arrived; and
since that of my death came not also, it is clear that absence
cannot kill nor grief destroy. I spoke to her father,
and entreated him to renew the promise he had given of
the two years during which I might hope. He took compassion
upon me, and consented that I should take leave of
his wife and his daughter Leonora, who, accompanied by
her mother, came forth to receive me in a parlour, and with
her came modesty, grace, and silence. I was stupified when
I saw so much beauty so near me; fain would I have
spoken, but the words stuck in my throat, and my tongue
cleaved to the roof of my mouth. I neither knew how nor
was able to utter a syllable, and my silence proved the
tumult of my soul so plainly that it was evident to the
father of my beloved, who was as courteous as he was
prudent. He embraced me, and said: 'Farewells, Don
Manuel, were never the time for many words, and perhaps
this silence may speak more in your favour than any
eloquence. Go and perform your duty, and return as
speedily as you can. I will not fail in the promise I have
made to you. My daughter Leonora is an obedient child,
and her mother always wishes to please me, and I have a
kindness for you; so it seems to me, with these three things,
you may indulge good hopes of success in what you desire.'
These words remained graven on my memory in such a
manner that I have not forgotten them, and never shall
whilst life endures.
"Neither the beautiful Leonora nor her mother said a
word, nor could I utter one, as I have said before.
"I departed for Barbary, where I remained two years,
and fulfilled the duties of my office, giving satisfaction
thereby to my king. I returned at the end of this time to
Lisbon, and found that the fame of Leonora's beauty was
noised abroad to the furthest limits of the kingdom, extending
even through Castile and other places, from whence
came ambassadors, asking her in marriage for princes and
great noblemen; but, as she submitted her will entirely to
her parents, I could not hear whether she was or was not
favourable to any of them. Seeing now that the two years
were come to an end, I went to renew my suit to her
father, and implore him to give her to me as my wife.
Alas! alas! I cannot dwell upon this part of my story, for
in the very prime of life death called for me, and I fear
I shall hardly have time to relate the sequel of my unhappy
story; if it comes, I shall no longer consider myself unfortunate.
"At last I was informed, that on a certain approaching
Sunday, my beloved Leonora should be delivered to me,
which news nearly killed me with happiness. I invited my
relations, called my friends together, and sent presents, with
all the requisite preparations, to show that I was about to
be married, and that Leonora was to be the bride.
"The day arrived, and, accompanied by all the highest
and noblest gentlemen of the city, I went to a convent
called that of the Mother of God, where I was told my
bride had been awaiting me since the preceding day, for, that
it was her wish to have the celebration of her betrothal performed
in the church, by the permission of the Archbishop
of the City." Here the melancholy cavalier paused for a
moment, as if to take breath to pursue his narration, and
then continued—"I arrived at the convent which was
adorned with royal pomp; some of the principal persons of
the city came out to meet me, who were assembled there
with many of the noblest ladies also. The church resounded
with music both vocal and instrumental, and at
this moment, appeared from the cloister, the peerless Leonora,
accompanied by the abbess and many of the nuns.
She was dressed in white satin, slashed, and a gown with a
train after the Castilian fashion; the slashes were adorned
with rich and large pearls. Her gown was lined with a
rich stuff of gold and green; her hair hung down over her
shoulders, so bright and golden, it would have shamed the
sunbeams, and so long, it nearly swept the floor. The
girdle, necklace and rings that she wore, were worth almost
a kingdom; and again I repeat, she shone forth so beautiful,
so lovely and graceful, and so richly adorned and decorated,
that she was the envy of every woman, and the
admiration of every man, present. For myself, I can only
say, that at sight of her, I felt I could never be worthy of
such a creature, even though I had been the emperor of the
whole world.
"A kind of stage had been erected in the middle of the
body of the church, where was an open space, in which
the ceremony of our espousals was to take place. The
beautiful maiden went up to it first, where she stood revealed
in all her loveliness: she appeared like the bright
Aurora at break of day, or as ancient fables tell, so looked
the chaste Diana in the woods. Some thought she could be
compared to nothing but herself. I went up to the stage
next, feeling as if I was going up to heaven, and I knelt
on one knee before her, as if I was about to worship her.
Then there arose a cry of many voices, and the voices
said, 'May ye live long and happy years in this world, O
lovely and loving ones; may beauteous children grow
around your table as a crown, and may this love extend to
your children's children; may ye never know anger or
jealousy; may doubt and suspicion never dwell within
your breasts, may envy be trampled under your feet, and
good fortune never cease in your house.'
"All these good and holy wishes filled my soul with pleasure,
seeing with what universal joy my happiness was received.
But now the beauteous Leonora took my hand, and
there, as we stood together side by side, she raised her voice
and said to me:—'Don Manuel de Sosa, you know well
how my father gave his word to you that he would not
dispose of my person for two years, which were to count
from the day when you first asked for me to be your wife,
and if I forget not, I also said (seeing myself pursued by
your solicitude, and feeling obliged by the many benefits
bestowed by you on me more from your courtesy than my
deserts) that I would take no other spouse on earth, but yourself.
My father has fulfilled his promise to you, as you have
seen, and I wish to accomplish mine, as you will see; and
therefore because I knew that deceits, although they may
be honourable and profitable, yet carry with them a kind
of treason, when they are long delayed and entertained, I
would wish that mine should appear and be made known
to you at this present instant. I, my Lord, am married,
and my Spouse being alive, I can in no way marry another.
I have not left you for any man on earth, but for a Bridegroom
in Heaven; that is, Jesus Christ, God and Man.
He is my espoused one, I gave my word to him before I
gave it to you; to him without deceit, and with my whole
heart; to you deceitfully, and without any truth. I confess
that if I were to choose an earthly husband none
could equal you, but having chosen a heavenly one, who
is like God? If this seem to you like treason or unseemly
usage, give me any punishment you please, and call me
any name you like; but neither death nor promises,
nor threats, shall divide me from my crucified Lord and
Spouse.'
"She ceased to speak, and instantly the abbess and the
nuns began to strip off her rich apparel, and to cut off the
precious ringlets of her hair. I, strangely moved, and
anxious to repress the signs of weakness, strove to keep back
the tears which filled my eyes, and falling on my knees I
pressed her hand to my lips, and she, Christianly compassionate,
let her arms embrace my neck; then, standing up,
I said in a voice which every one present could hear,
'Maria Optimam partem elegit;' and thus saying I left the
church, and, accompanied by my friends, returned to my
own house, where, by turning and returning in my imagination
all this strange history, I well nigh lost my reason,
and now for the same cause, I am about to lose my life."
So saying, he heaved a deep sigh, and gave up the ghost,
falling heavily to the ground.
CHAPTER XI.
They reach another Island, and are hospitably received.
In haste Periander flew to help him, and
found that he was indeed quite dead; at
which all present were greatly astonished,
as well as shocked, by so strange and unforeseen
an event. "This dream," said
Auristella, "has excused the gentleman from relating to us
the adventures of the latter part of his life, the events which
led to so disastrous a termination, and to the prison of the
barbarians, which must doubtless have been most curious
and extraordinary."
To this Antonio rejoined, "Seldom do misfortunes come
single, sorrows keep one another company, but however
great they may be, they cease with the life of him who
suffers." They then gave directions to have him buried
in the best manner they could; his own garments served
him for a shroud. The snow, instead of earth, was his covering,
and for a cross they found one in his bosom, with a
scapulary, which proved that he was a knight of the order
of Christ. But this mark of honour was hardly necessary
to prove his nobility, since it was clearly shown in his
manners and language. Tears were not wanting at his
funeral, for compassion did its work, and drew them from
every eye.
Morning now began to dawn. The boats were again
launched, the sea appearing calm and tranquil, and half
sorrowful, half joyful, between hope and fear, they went
on their way, uncertain whither they were going.
These seas were nearly covered with islands, for the
greater part uninhabited. Of those that were peopled, the
inhabitants were a rude, half savage race, rough in manners,
and of insolent and harsh nature; yet, in spite of this, they
would gladly have found some human beings to receive
them, for they thought it impossible that they could be as
cruel as snow-covered mountains, or so inhospitable as the
hard and rugged rocks of the other islands.
Ten days more they voyaged on, without finding any
port, or beach, or shelter, whatever, leaving right and left
little isles which gave no promise of being peopled. They
turned their eyes to a high mountain that appeared in view,
rowing with all their strength, for their boats began to leak
terribly, and their provisions were well nigh exhausted. At
last, more thanks to Providence than to their own exertions,
they reached the wished-for land, and saw two persons,
standing on the shore, to whom Transila cried out with a
loud voice, and asked, "What land is this? Who governs
it? And are ye Catholic Christians?" They replied, in
their own language, which she well understood, that the
island was called Golandia, and that they were Catholics,
but that it was uninhabited; so few persons lived there that
they only occupied one house, which served for an inn to
people who put into the harbour, which was behind a great
rocky mountain, to which they pointed. And if, said they,
you, whoever you are, wish to repair any damage, keep us
in sight, and we will direct you to the port. They, in the
boats, thanked God for this, and followed on the water
those who guided them on land. On turning round the
corner of the rock, that had been pointed out, they saw a
little bay, that might be termed a harbour, in which lay
ten or a dozen vessels, some large, some middle-sized, and
some small. Great was their joy in seeing these, since it
gave them hopes of obtaining a change of boats to pursue
their voyage in safety to other lands.
They landed; some persons came to meet them out of
the vessel, some from the house. The beautiful Auristella
arrayed in the same garments with which Arnoldo had
adorned Periander, when he sold him to the barbarians,
was carried on shore by Periander and the two Antonios,
father and son; with her came the graceful Transila, the
beautiful Constance, with Ricla her mother; and all the
rest of the persons in the boats that accompanied this gallant
party. So great was the admiration, amazement, and fear
of the beholders, both those from the vessels and those on
land, at sight of this burst of loveliness, that they all
prostrated themselves before them on the ground, and made
signs, as if they would worship Auristella. They gazed
upon her silently, and with such reverence, that they
thought not of uttering a word, or doing anything but look
at her. The fair Transila who, as I have already said, understood
the language of the country, was the first to break
silence, saying to them, "To claim your hospitality, our
until now adverse fortune has conducted us; by our dress,
and by our mild demeanour, you may perceive we come
for peace, not war; since neither women nor afflicted men
seek to fight. Afford us then hospitality, and grant us
boats in which we may pursue our voyage, for these in
which we have come hither are so worn and useless, that
it will be impossible to trust ourselves in them again to
brave the perils of the ocean. If you will give us the
necessaries we require, in exchange for gold and silver, we
are able to recompense you abundantly, and still receive
the precious supplies we stand in need of as if they were
a gift."
Wondrous to tell, a man, who seemed to be a seaman,
answered in Spanish, "He who could doubt the truth of
what you say, O beauteous lady, must be an idiot; for even
though fraud may deceive, and guilt mask herself in the
guise of truth and virtue, it could not be harboured in a
form so lovely as that you wear. The master of this inn
is courteous, the people who belong to these ships are not
less so. Therefore, take your choice whether you will go
to them or to the inn, where you will be received and
treated as your appearance deserves."
The elder Antonio seeing, or rather I should say, hearing,
his own language spoken, said, "Since it has pleased
Heaven to bring us to a place where the sweet accents of
my native land once more sound in my ears, I feel already
that my misfortunes are ended. Let us go to yonder
hostelry, and, after we have taken some repose, we can
arrange how best to return to our own countries, with
more security than we have hitherto hoped for."
At this moment a younker, who was in the main tops of
one of the vessels, called out in English, "A ship is in sight
in full sail, making straight for this harbour."
They all crowded together in one spot, without moving
a step, anxiously watching for the ship announced as being
so near at hand, and when she came nearer they perceived
that on her swelling sails was a red cross, and they also
saw that there was a flag on the yard arm of her main
mast, which bore the arms of England. She discharged,
as she came in, two heavy rounds of artillery, and immediately
after that, about twenty arquebuses or light guns.
They were answered from shore by joyful shouts, as a
sign of peace, which was all they could do, since artillery
they had none wherewith to return the salute.
CHAPTER XII.
Wherein is related from whence came the Ship and who the
Persons were that came in her.
The salute on both sides, land and sea, having
passed as I already told, the ship came to
an anchor and lowered her boat. The first
person who got into it (after four sailors had
arranged carpets and prepared their oars)
was an old man, apparently about seventy years of age,
dressed in a robe of black velvet which reached to his feet,
and girded round the waist with a silken sash; on his head
he wore a high crowned hat, lined with plush. A lively
graceful lad of about four-and-twenty, dressed like a sailor
in black velvet, with a golden-hilted sword in his hand,
and a dagger in his belt, leaped into the boat next, and
seated himself. Immediately after, a man, heavily laden
with chains, and a woman also bound with him, and entangled
in the same fetters, were flung down into it from
the ship. The man seemed about forty years of age; the
woman looked about fifty. He was of an animated and
indignant aspect; she melancholy and dejected. The sailors
plied their oars, and soon reached the shore. The old man,
the youth, and the two prisoners, were carried to land by
the seamen and archers who guarded the prisoners. Transila,
who with the rest had attentively watched the arrival
of the strangers, turning to Auristella, said, "I pray you,
lady, to cover my face with the veil you have upon your
arm; for, unless I greatly mistake, there are persons in
yonder boat whom I know, and by whom I am known."
Auristella did as she desired; at the same moment the
strangers came up to them, and met with a very courteous
reception from all. The old man, in velvet, walked straight
up to Transila, saying: "If my science deceives me not,
and fortune does not prove unkind, this meeting will show
that I am favoured by her." So saying he lifted the veil
from Transila's face, and fell fainting into the arms she
extended to save him from falling to the ground. It cannot
be doubted that an event, so new and so unexpected, struck
the bystanders with wonder and amazement. Still more,
when they heard Transila say, "O my beloved father!
what a meeting is this! what can have brought your
venerable grey hairs and your great age into lands so distant
from your own?"
"What should have brought him here," interposed the
eager youth; "but to seek for the happiness he had lost
with you. He and I, sweetest lady and my betrothed
wife, came seeking in the north our only guide for a port
wherein to rest. Thanks be to Heaven we have found it
here! Hasten, lady, to recall your father Maurice to life,
and make me a sharer in his joy, by acknowledging him as
your father, and me as your lawful husband." Maurice revived,
but only to see Transila in her turn sink down in a
swoon. Auristella came to help her, for Ladislaus (so was
the young stranger called) ventured not to assist, so great
was the respect he owed to Transila. However, as swoons,
caused by joy, are seldom of long duration, Transila soon
recovered, and the master of the inn now said, "Come,
sirs, and let me lead you to a place where, more conveniently
and with less cold than here, you may give some
account of your adventures." They took his advice and
followed him to the house, which they found capacious
enough to lodge a whole fleet.
The two chained prisoners were lifted on their feet,
the archers who guarded them helped to support their
fetters. Some persons hastened to the ships, and with as
much haste as good will brought thence refreshments, and
all that was needed. They got lights, set the tables, and
before anything else was thought of they all began to satisfy
their hunger, more with various kinds of fish than meat,
for of that there was none, except some birds which are
found in these parts in great numbers, so numerous in fact,
that being a wonderful and remarkable thing, I think it
necessary to give some account of it.
They fix some sticks into the edge of the sea, and among
the hidden rocks where the water covers them, which
sticks, in a short space of time all that are covered by the
water are converted into hard stone, and those that remain
out of water are putrified and corrupted, from which corruption
is engendered a little bird, which, flying to land,
becomes large, and is so savoury to eat that it is considered
one of the best eatables known. They are most plentiful
in the countries of Hibernia and Ireland.[E] The bird is called
a barnacle.
The great desire which all felt to learn the history of
the new arrivals, made them think the meal long; when it
was finished, the old man, Maurice, gave a loud knock upon
the table, as a signal to demand attention; all ceased speaking
directly, silence sealed their lips, and curiosity opened
their ears, which Maurice perceiving he raised his voice
and spoke thus:
"In one of seven islands which are not far distant from
Hibernia I was born; my family is as ancient in its origin
as the Maurices, for in giving this name I enhance its
antiquity as much as I can. I am a Catholic Christian,
and not one of those who go about denying the true faith.
I was educated in the study of letters, as well as arms, if
that may be called a study. I was fond of astrology, a
science in which I have obtained some renown. As soon
as I was of age, I married a beautiful and well-born lady
of the same city as myself, who brought me this daughter
you now see here present. I followed the customs of my
country, at least all those that seemed to me agreeable to
reason, and such as were not I made a semblance of observing,
since dissimulation is sometimes prudent. This girl
grew up under my care, for she lost that of her mother two
years after her birth, and I lost her who should have been
the companion of my old age, and the care of bringing up
the daughter fell upon me. To relieve myself of this
charge, which is a difficult one to the weary and the aged,
as soon as she was old enough to be married, I looked
about in order to bestow upon her a companion, and a
protector, and the youth I fixed upon was this brave lad
you now see with me,—he is called Ladislaus,—first having
consulted my daughter's inclinations; for to me it appears
both convenient and suitable that parents should marry
their daughters according to their own liking, since the
companion we give them is not merely for a day, but for
a whole life. And from not doing this, have followed,
follow, and will follow, millions of inconveniences which
often times end in disastrous accidents. Now you must
know that in my country there is an old custom, which is,
that when the marriage is settled and the wedding-day
arrived, the bridegroom and his brothers, if he has any, with
all his nearest relations, come to fetch away the bride.
"Now it happened that on this occasion among the
kindred of the intended bridegroom were some who, having
seen my daughter once or twice, had unhappily conceived
for her an ardent passion. How it happened I do not
rightly know, only that as this little band of young men
were escorting the bride through the city, an attempt was
made, on the part of one of her disappointed admirers, to
carry her off by force. Upon this a tumult arose, and a
fierce combat ensued. In the midst of which Transila,
who had at the commencement of the confusion snatched
a spear from the hands of an attendant, contrived to escape,
and never from that hour have I been able to obtain the
smallest tidings of her alive or dead."
At this part of the story Transila arose, and taking up
the tale as her father paused, she spoke as you will read in
the ensuing chapter.
Wherein Transila ends the Story her Father had begun.
"I went, as my father has told you, dressed
in my bridal garments, escorted by all the
brothers and near kinsmen of my intended
husband. Among these was one I knew
only too well, and feared him for his violent
and fierce disposition. He contrived to be next me in the
procession, and just as we reached a place where a street
led towards the sea-shore, he whispered in my ear that he
could not endure to see me the wife of another, and, seizing
me by the arm, he endeavoured to hurry me away in
the direction of the street I have mentioned, having previously
arranged so, as to have some friends of his own
favourable to this wicked enterprise; who, crowding about
me, hindered the rest of the party from perceiving what
was going on; but the forcible resistance I made, and my
loud cries for succour, speedily called Ladislaus and his
friends to my rescue. Thereupon a furious and bloody
combat ensued, in the midst of which I contrived, unperceived,
to make my escape, and rushing through the streets
I ran till I came to the seaside, where I flung myself into a
small boat that seemed as if sent by Heaven to my assistance,
and plying the two little oars it contained, I rowed as far
away from land as I could. Heaven seemed to favour my
desire of escape, the wind arose and carried me and my
small bark fast and far into the open sea. By nightfall the
wind had driven me many miles, and at length it drove
me ashore upon an unknown coast, where some fishermen received
me, and offered me hospitality and lodging. They
also offered me a husband from among them, if I was unmarried;
but avarice, which reigns everywhere, even among
the rocks and wild sea caves, and amidst rough and untaught
men, entered that night into the breasts of these rude fishermen,
and they agreed, that as I was the property of
all alike, and yet could only be the prize of one, and as
I could not be divided, that I should be sold to some
pirates, whom they had discovered not far off from their
fishing grounds. Accordingly, when morning dawned,
the pirates having come nearer, I was taken on board their
ship, and sold for I know not what sum of money, having
first despoiled me of all the jewels I wore in my bridal attire.
The pirates treated me kindly, and told me not to
be melancholy, for they would carry me to a place, where
I should be, not a slave, but a queen, and possibly the
queen of the whole world, if certain prophecies should
prove true. How I arrived at the barbarous isles, the reception
I there met with, how I learned their language
during the time I dwelt among them, and the history of
their rites and ceremonies, and the vain result of their prophecies,
and the finding of these noble gentlemen and
ladies, with whom I am; also the burning of the island,
and how we obtained our liberty, I will tell at some future
time. I have now said enough, and I wish to hear from
my father, what chance has brought him hither, when I
least expected it?" Here Transila ended her discourse,
leaving everybody enchanted by the sweetness of her
voice, and her exceeding beauty, which was surpassed
alone by that of Auristella.
Then Maurice, her father, said, "Thou already knowest,
beloved daughter, how in my studies and occupations,
among many others, good and praiseworthy, that of astrology
carried me very far, as it often does those who,
when they follow it, are impelled by the natural wish
of knowing, not only all things past and present, but also
those that belong to the future.
"Seeing thee, then, lost, I marked the hour, consulted
the stars, examined well the situation of the planets, noted
the positions and the houses which were necessary for my
desire, since no science is so deceitful as this—the deception
being owing to the ignorance of those who practise it;
and astrology is principally deceptive from the rapid motions
of the heavenly bodies, which have more influence in
some places than in others, and thus the astrologer hits by
chance in his judgments sometimes, in order to come to
the most probable point, and the best of all astrologers is
the devil; although even he, is now and then himself deceived;
for not only does he look into futurity through his
own knowledge, but also by premises and by conjectures,
and as he has a long experience of things past, and so
much acquaintance with things present, he easily discovers
how to judge about the future, which students in the art
cannot do, and they must always judge doubtfully and
with no certainty. Thus it was, however, that I discovered
that your loss must go on for two years, and that I
should recover you on this day, and in this place, to renew
my youth, rejoice my grey hairs, and to give thanks to
Heaven for the restoration of my lost treasure, making my
heart glad with thy presence; although I know that it
must be mingled with some fears still, since for the most
part good fortune does not come without a counterpoise of
misfortune, which is permitted, that we may know no
good is eternal, nor is evil suffered to last for ever in this
world."
"It will surely please Heaven then to send us a prosperous
voyage," said Auristella, who had been long silent.
CHAPTER XIV.
Some Account of the two Persons who came in Chains.
I omit this chapter, as it is quite unnecessary
for the story, and an absurd relation
concerning the two prisoners who came in
the English ship with Maurice. The woman,
who is called Rosamund, is a very
abandoned and wicked person; and at last, in consequence
of the excessive infamy of her conduct, she has been sentenced
to banishment, and ordered to be set on shore on a
desert island, in company with Clodio, a man, whose
crimes do not appear to be of a nature that would have
brought him to punishment in the present day. "I have,"
says he, "a certain satirical spirit, and a backbiting one, a
ready pen, and a free tongue, I delight in malicious wit,
and for a bon mot, would sacrifice, not only one friend,
but a hundred. Prisons could never silence my tongue,
nor exile move me; threats could not intimidate, nor
punishment mend me."
He thought being chained in company with Rosamund,
the worst part of his sentence, and declared that death
would have been preferable; whilst she, on her side, assures
him, that she would have thrown herself into the
sea to escape from him, had she not been deterred by the
reflection, that she must have carried him into the other
world with her, which would greatly increase her punishment
there. "Far better," said she, "had it pleased the
king to take away my life in my own country, than to
make me expiate my crimes by the wounds thy tongue inflicts
at every step, and from which not even angels or
saints are safe."
CHAPTER XV.
Arnoldo comes to the Island where are Periander
and Auristella.
Whilst they were all discoursing thus, a
sailor rushed into the inn, crying out, that
a large ship, in full sail, was making straight
for the harbour; "and no signal has she
made," said he, "by which we can discover
what she is, or whence she comes." Hardly had he
spoken these words, when their ears were deafened by the
roar of many pieces of artillery, which the ship discharged
as she entered the port; but all harmless, and not laden
with shot—signals of peace, and not of war. The English
ship returned the salute, and all the soldiers on board fired
off their arquebuses. At the same instant, everybody in
the inn hastened to the sea-shore. As soon as Periander
saw the newly-arrived vessel, he knew her to be that of
Arnoldo, prince of Denmark, which gave him no pleasure
whatever; his heart beat very quick, and his spirit was
troubled within him. Auristella shared the very same
terrors in her turn, for well she knew by long experience
how Arnoldo loved her, and she could not settle it satisfactorily
in her mind, how the inclinations of the prince
and Periander could go on together, without the sharp
and bitter dart of jealousy entering into their souls.
Arnoldo was already in the boat, and had nearly reached
the shore, when Periander advanced to meet him; but
Auristella moved not from the spot, where she first placed
her foot, and almost wished that there she might take root,
and be transformed into twisted boughs, as was the daughter
of Peneus, when pursued by the light-footed Apollo.
Arnoldo, who saw Periander, knew him at once, and
without waiting till his men could lift him ashore, he
sprang with one bound from the boat into the arms of Periander,
which were open to receive him. "If," he cried,
"friend Periander, I could be so blest as to find thy sister,
Auristella, with thee, I should have nothing left on earth
to wish for, nor any evil upon it to fear." "She is here
with me, noble prince," replied Periander; "Heaven,
that loves to favour the good, has preserved her for you,
pure as she deserves to be."
By this time it began to be rumoured among the new
comers, and the persons that were on the island before,
who the prince was that had come in the ship, and still
Auristella remained where she was, immoveable; near her
were the beautiful Transila, and the two seeming barbarians,
Riela and Constance. Arnoldo came up to them,
and falling on his knees before Auristella, he said, "Thou
art well found, my polar star, thou that guidest my
thoughts; thou beacon that hast brought me to that harbour
where my wishes rest."
To all which Auristella answered not a word, but tears
gathered in her eyes, and began to bathe her lovely face.
Astonished and confounded, Arnoldo knew not what to
think, nor whether this reception proceeded from joy or
grief; but Periander, who marked it all, and never lost
sight of a single motion made by Auristella, relieved him
from his doubts, saying to him, "My Lord, the tears and
the silence of my sister are the offspring of joy and surprise;
surprise at beholding you so unexpectedly, and tears
of joy to see you again. She is grateful, as a well-born
maiden should be, and knows the greatness of the obligation
she is under to you for the courteous and princely
treatment she has ever met with at your hands."
They then went together to the inn: once more the
table was spread with viands, and hearts were made merry,
for the cups flowed with the most exquisite wines; better
could not have been found though you were to sail from
one extremity of the globe to another; no nectar ever
equalled these wines. This second supper was for the
Prince Arnoldo. Periander related to him all that had
happened in the barbarous isle, with the finding of Auristella,
and all the events and adventures that we have already
heard; whereat Arnoldo was much surprised, and
all present were anew delighted and astonished.
CHAPTER XVI.
They all determine to quit the Island, and pursue
their Voyage.
"Now," said the master of the inn, "I know
not that I ought to say that I feel sorry
for the fair weather which all the signs in
the sky seem to promise at sea. The sun
shines clear and bright, far and wide one
cannot perceive the smallest cloud. The waves murmur
on the shore with a gentle sound, and the birds are scattered
abroad over the ocean, all which are signs of fair and
durable weather; a fact which will cause me to be soon
left alone by the noble guests whom fortune has brought
to my inn."
"Even so will it be," said Maurice, "for however
agreeable and pleasant your company has been, the desire
of returning home will prevent our enjoying it much
longer. For my part, I must say, that I think of sailing
to-night at the first watch, if the opinion of my pilot, and
that of the officers who are in the ship, should agree with
mine."
To which Arnoldo rejoined: "The loss of time is
irrecoverable; but, most of all, loss of time at sea can
never be remedied." In short, there was but one opinion
amongst the whole party—that they should sail that night
for England, to which all were bound.
Arnoldo rose from table, and taking Periander by the
hand, drew him out of the inn; and when they were
alone, and out of hearing of any one, he said, "It is impossible,
friend Periander, but that your sister, Auristella,
must have told you of the inclination I had for her during
the two years that she was in the power of the king, my
father; but so much did I respect her, that no word ever
fell from my lips, that could disturb her modesty. I never
wished for more of her history than she chose to tell me;
picturing her in my imagination, not as a person of ordinary
or low estate, but as if she was queen of the whole world;
because her modesty, gravity, and exceeding great discretion,
prevented all possibility of thinking otherwise. A thousand
times I offered to marry her, and with the full consent
of my father, and yet I thought the offer short of her
merits; but ever she made answer, that until she was in
the city of Rome, where she had a vow to accomplish, she
could not dispose of herself. She never would tell me her
quality, nor that of her parents, nor did I, as I said before,
ever importune her on that point, for she herself, independent
of all nobility of birth, deserved not only the
crown of Denmark, but that of every kingdom upon earth.
"I have told you all this, Periander, because I consider
you as a person of understanding and discretion,
and because the happiness is not small which I ask at
your's and your sister's hands, asking her of you for a
wife; and promising to fulfil this offer, when and where
she pleases; here, beneath this humble roof, or in the
gilded halls of Rome; and I also swear that I will conduct
myself towards her in all respect and decorum, until
this desired hour shall arrive."
Here Arnoldo ended his discourse, and listened attentively
to what Periander would say in reply, which was—"I
know well, valorous Prince Arnoldo, the obligations
which both my sister and myself are under to you for the
many favours you have shown us; and for that you now
anew offer to us, of receiving me as your brother, and her
as your wife; but, although it seems like madness for two
poor miserable pilgrims cast out of their own country, not
at once to accept the good that is offered to them, yet I
must say that it is not in our power to receive it as we
ought to do. Impelled by destiny, my sister and myself
seek the city of Rome, and till we see ourselves there, we
feel that we are not at liberty to use our own free-will;
if Heaven permits us ever to touch the blessed ground, and
adore the holy relics there, we may then be able to dispose
of our own hitherto shackled inclinations, and then mine
will be entirely devoted to your service. Also, I will own
to you, that if you ever reach the accomplishment of your
wishes, you will obtain a bride born of illustrious lineage,
and a brother-in-law who will be a brother indeed. And
now to the many favours that we have both received, I
pray you to add yet another, which is that you will not ask
me more concerning our home and our life, that I may not
be obliged to tell you untruths, and invent false and lying
chimeras, to avoid telling you our true history." "Dispose
of me as thou wilt, O my brother," answered Arnoldo,
"consider me as the wax, and thyself the seal, to impress
on me whatever thou shalt desire; and let us, if it seems
good to thee, depart this night for England, as we can more
easily pass from thence to France, and to Rome; and in
this voyage I will accompany you, if it is agreeable to you
that I should do so."
Although Periander was much disturbed at this last
offer, he yet accepted it, trusting to time and delays, which
sometimes cause events to turn out better than is expected;
and the two intended brothers embracing one another, returned
to the inn to prepare for their departure.
Auristella had seen Arnoldo and Periander go forth together,
and greatly feared what might be the result of their
conversation; and although she well knew the modesty of
Prince Arnoldo, and the great discretion of Periander, still
a thousand vague alarms oppressed her heart. To her it appeared
that as Arnoldo's power was equal to his love, he
might try to obtain what he desired by force; since sometimes,
in the bosoms of rejected lovers, tenderness is converted
into wrath, and courtesy into rudeness; but seeing
them return so amicably together, and in such peaceful
guise, she recovered her spirits again.
Clodio, the backbiter, who knew now who Arnoldo
was, fell at his feet, and entreated that he would interfere
in his behalf to get him freed from the company of Rosamond.
Maurice related to him the story of their crimes
and punishment. Moved by compassion, Arnoldo ordered
that Clodio should be released from his chains; and he
promised to speak in his behalf, seeing that he was a great
friend of his sovereign. Upon which Clodio said, "If all
great people occupied themselves like you, sir, in doing
good, nobody would wish to speak ill of them; but how
can he who does evil, expect that men should speak well
of him? And if good and virtuous deeds are often calumniated
by human malice, why should the wicked escape?
Take me with you, O prince, and you shall see how I will
sing your praises up to the very skies."
"No, no," replied Arnoldo, "I do not desire to be
praised for the good which it is natural to me to do; and
besides, praise is only valuable from the good; it is worth
nothing to be praised by the vicious and the bad. Praise
is the reward of virtue, if he who bestows it is virtuous;
from the vicious, praise is blame."
CHAPTER XVII.
Arnoldo relates what befell Taurisa.
Auristella longed greatly to know what
had passed between Arnoldo and Periander,
when they went forth from the inn, and
waited for an opportunity to ask Periander;
and also to hear from Arnoldo what he had
done with her maid, Taurisa; and, as if he guessed her
thoughts, he said to her, "The misfortunes you have gone
through, O beautiful Auristella, have made you forget those
who would wish to have a place in your memory. Among
these, I myself am one, who could live happy only with
the imagination and remembrance, which has so long been
all I have had to live upon. That destiny which has made
me your's, has left me no other choice, than to obey you
in all things. Your brother, Periander, has related to me
much of what has happened since you were stolen away
from my kingdom; which recital has excited in me
wonder, astonishment, and alarm. I perceive also that
your distresses have been so great as to blot out of your
memory some recollections that should be strong; you
have neither asked after my father, nor for Taurisa, your
maid. I left her in good hands, longing that I should seek
and find you. I brought her with me in the intention of
selling her to the barbarians, that she might serve me as a
spy, and discover if fortune had thrown you into their
power; but how your brother, Periander, came to me,
and what we agreed upon together, he will have already
told you. Although I have often wished to return to the
barbarous isle, yet contrary winds have always prevented
my doing so; and now I was intending to return hither,
in the same desire and intention, which Heaven has
accomplished with ample and perfect satisfaction, seeing
that I am in your presence, O thou cure of all my sorrows.
It is two days since I delivered Taurisa into the care of
two gentlemen, friends of mine, whom I happened to fall in
with amongst these seas; they were going to Ireland in a
fine vessel, for Taurisa had fallen sick, and her life was in
danger, and as this ship of mine is more like that of a corsair
than of a king's son, and contains neither medicine nor
food proper for sick persons, I sent her under their care to
Ireland, and committed her to the governor of that country,
that he should protect, cure, and take care of her, until I
should myself come and fetch her away.
"I have this day settled it with your brother, that we
depart to-morrow, either for England, or for France or
Spain, and whichever it shall please you to make choice
of, I promise you perfect security to carry the pious intentions,
of which your brother has informed me, into
effect; whilst I, meanwhile, will support my hopes upon
the shoulders of my patience, sustained by the trust I put
in your understanding of my wishes. And now, lady,
think well, I implore and entreat you, whether your inclinations
agree with ours, for if it be ever so little displeasing
to you, it shall not be carried into execution."
"I have no will but my brother Periander's," answered
Auristella, "nor will he, if he is wise, wish to differ at all
from yours."
"Then," returned Arnoldo, "so let it be, and I do
not desire to command, but to obey; for none shall say
that I wish to take any advantage of my rank in taking the
lead in anything."
This is what passed between Arnoldo and Auristella;
the latter repeated it all to Periander. And that night Arnoldo,
Periander, Maurice, Ladislaus, and the two captains,
with all those who came from the barbarous isle,
held a council together, and arranged their departure in
the following manner.
CHAPTER XVIII.
How Maurice foresees, by his astrological Knowledge, that
an evil Accident will befall them at Sea.
All the persons who had escaped from the
barbarous isle dungeons, embarked in the
vessel which brought Maurice and Ladislaus,
along with the officers and soldiers who
guarded the prisoners. And in Arnoldo's
ship were accommodated Periander, Auristella, Ricla and
Constance, and the two Antonios, father and son, Ladislaus,
Maurice, and Transila. Nor would Arnoldo permit Clodio
and Rosamund to be left on the island; Rutilio, too, had
a berth in his vessel. They took in water that night, and
brought from the host of the inn all the provisions they
could collect. Having prepared on all points for the departure,
Maurice said, that if good fortune preserved them
from a disaster that threatened them, the voyage would be
a prosperous one; and that this evil which threatened, although
on the water, would not, if it happened, proceed
from any tempest or hurricane, but from treason, forged
and devised by wicked and treacherous intentions.
Periander, who was always in fear when in Arnoldo's
company, began to be alarmed lest this treason should be
devised by the prince, in order to obtain the lovely Auristella,
since he might easily carry her off when on board
his own ship; but then he opposed to this, the generous
nature of the prince, and would not believe it could be
as he feared, since treachery lurks not in noble breasts.
But, nevertheless, he failed not to ask and question Maurice
very closely, touching the quarter from whence the
threatened danger might be expected. Maurice answered,
that this he could not tell; only he knew that the thing
was to be, for certain, although he softened the severity of
the evil, by assuring them that none of those who sustained
it would lose their life, but only their peace of mind would
suffer, because they would find their plans and designs frustrated
and the failure of their best arranged hopes. To
which Periander suggested, that their departure might be
delayed a few days, as possibly the evil influences of the
stars might change, or moderate with time. "No," replied
Maurice, "better will it be for us to meet this danger,
since it does not affect our lives, than to wait for perhaps
some other which may prove more fatal." "Then,"
said Periander, "since the Fates will have it so, let us depart
directly, and let Heaven do as it pleases, since nothing
we can contrive will avert its wrath."
Arnoldo satisfied their host with magnificent and liberal
gifts for his hospitality, and some in one ship, some in
another, each one according to what best suited him, left
the harbour, and made sail.
Arnoldo's ship went out of port bravely decked, and
adorned with light streamers, and banners, and flying pendants:
when she weighed anchor, the mist was dispersed
by a salute of artillery; the joyous sounds of the clarion, and
other musical instruments, filled the air; voices were heard
repeating again and again, "a happy voyage; a happy
voyage." Yet all the while did Auristella sit musing, with
her head sunk upon her breast, full of sad presage of ills to
come. Periander and Arnoldo kept looking at her, again
and again; both holding her dear as the apple of their eye,
the end of their thoughts and beginning of their joys.
The day closed in, and night came on, clear and serene:
a gentle breeze dispersing the fleecy clouds which seemed
else as if they would have met together.
Maurice fixed his gaze upon the heavens, and seemed to
be again reading there, in imagination, the signs of what
he had foretold; and to confirm anew the danger which
impended; but nothing could he discover of the quarter
from which it should come. In this disturbed state of
mind, he fell asleep on the deck; and in a short time after
awoke in a fright, crying out loudly, "Treason, treason,
treason; awake, Prince Arnoldo, we are killed by your
people."
At this cry, the prince, who was not sleeping, because
he was in the same berth with Periander, rose, and coming
up to Maurice, said, "What ails you, friend Maurice?
Who has offended us? or who will kill us? Are not all in
this ship our friends? Is not the crew composed of my own
vassals and servants? Is not the sky clear and serene? The
sea tranquil? And is not our ship sailing steadily, without
touching any shoal, or sunken rock? Does any obstacle
detain us? If there is nothing of all this, what are you
afraid of, that you alarm us thus by your sudden terrors?"
"I know not," replied Maurice; "but, my lord, I
pray you let the divers go down, and see that all is safe in
the hold; for, unless it was a dream, I thought we were
about to sink." Hardly had he spoken, when four or five
seamen let themselves down into the bottom of the ship,
and searched it thoroughly, for they were experienced
divers. They found neither hole nor opening of any kind
through which the water could enter, and returned to the
deck, saying, that the ship was safe and sound; and that the
water in the hold was thick and stagnant, a clear proof that
no fresh water had made its way into the ship. "Then,"
said Maurice, "it must needs be, that I, like an old man,
(since age is often fearful,) have been scared by a dream;
and Heaven grant it may be only a dream; for I would
rather appear a fearful old man, than be a true prophet."
"Then," said Arnoldo, "compose yourself, my good
Maurice, for such dreams as these affright the ladies."
"I will if I can," he replied; and returned to his place
on deck to lie down. In the ship an anxious silence prevailed.
Rutilio, who was seated at the foot of the mainmast, invited
by the serenity of the night, and the quiet of the
hour; or because he had a very fine voice, and that the
sweet sounds of the wind, that gently murmured among
the sails, reminded him of music, began to sing the following
words in his own Tuscan tongue, which, if translated,
run thus—
The Patriarch in days of yore
Fled from th' avenging hand,
Which, to a wide destruction doom'd
The whole offending land;
But to his servant warning gave,
Himself and all his kin,
The little remnant of mankind,
Rest safe the ark within.
Asylum blest! secure abode!
Which 'scaped th' inevitable death
That then embrac'd each living thing,
All creatures that drew breath.
And there, within that wondrous ark,
The lamb and lion dwell
In friendship, and the gentle dove
Sits by the falcon fell.
And so we see in these our days
It often does befall,
Such things there are, although there be
No miracle at all;
The most discordant souls on earth
In friendship will agree;
If in one common peril joined,
In fellowship they be.
Antonio, who best understood the words Rutilio sung,
cried, "Well sung, Rutilio, if thou hast thyself composed
those verses, thou art no bad poet; though I do not know
how a dancing-master can be a good one; nevertheless, I
am wrong in saying this, for I remember well that in my
own land of Spain, there were poets of all professions."
Maurice overheard him speak thus, and so did the prince
and Periander, who could not sleep; and Maurice said,
"It is very possible for an artizan to be a poet; poetry
lying not in the fingers, but the mind; and the soul of a
tailor is as capable of poetic feeling as that of a gentleman;
for souls are all of equal rank, and of the same nature originally,
but formed and fashioned by their Maker, and according
to the temperament and disposition of the body in
which each is enclosed, so appear they more or less learned
and wise, and inclined to study and know the arts and
sciences, and other things to which their stars dispose them.
But in speaking of a poet, one generally says that he is
nascitur, born such. I see no reason, then, to wonder at
Rutilio being a poet, although he is a dancing-master."
"And so great a one," said Antonio, "that he has cut
capers in the air, even beyond the clouds." "Even so,"
answered Rutilio, who was listening all this time; "I
made them even up in the sky, when I travelled in the
witch's mantle from Tuscany to Norway, where I killed
her when she changed into a wolf, as I have before told
you."
"That tale about men and women being turned into
wolves, is a great error," said Maurice, "although it is believed
by many."
"How is it, then," asked Arnoldo, "that it is generally
said, and held as a fact, that in England, troops of
wolves go about the fields, who are human creatures that
have been so transformed?" (Note 2).
"In England," Maurice replied, "such things could
not be, because not only are there no wolves in that fertile
and cultivated country, but no noxious animals whatever,
such as serpents, vipers, toads, spiders and scorpions; also
it is a well-known fact, that if any poisonous animal is
brought thither from other parts, when it arrives there, it
dies; and if the earth of this island be carried to any other
place, and a viper be surrounded with this earth, it dares
not leave the circle so made in which it is imprisoned, and
runs round and round until it dies." (Note 3.)
"All we can understand about the transformation of
persons into wolves is, that there exists a complaint or disease,
which is called by physicians the wolf-mania; its
nature is, that the person afflicted with it fancies himself
changed into a wolf, and howls like one; and, joining with
others who are similarly afflicted, go ranging about the
country in parties, barking like dogs, and howling like
wolves; tearing down trees, killing any one they meet,
and devouring the raw flesh of the dead. And, at the present
time, I know that there are in Sicily, which is the
largest of the Mediterranean isles, people of this sort,
called by the Sicilians, Lobos menar, were wolves, or loups
garoux.
"These persons know and feel when this terrible infirmity
is about to seize them, and they warn those who are
about them, that they may fly from and avoid them; or
that they may tie them fast, or lock them up; because, if
not prevented, they will tear anything that approaches
them to pieces, and destroy them with both their teeth and
nails, uttering frightful and hideous howlings; and so true
is this, that where there is a question of marriage on foot,
inquiry is made to ascertain that there is no touch of this
complaint in the family; and if on good authority they
discover it even afterwards, the marriage may be dissolved.
"Pliny also tells us, in Book viii. chap. 22, that among
the Arcadians there is a kind of people who, in passing
a certain lake, hang their garments upon an ilex, and go
naked into the inland country, where they join with others
they find there of their own lineage, in the form of wolves,
and are with them for nine years, at the end of which
they return and pass the lake, and recover their lost figure.
But all this is probably fiction and lies; and if there is
anything in it, it is in the imagination, and not real."
(Note 4).
"I do not know," said Rutilio, "as to that; all I know
is that I killed the she-wolf, and found dead at my feet,
the sorceress."
"This might very well be," replied Maurice; "for
the power of the enchantments of those accursed witches is
such, that they can make us see one thing for another; and
I am perfectly satisfied that there are no people whatever
who change their own first form for any other."
"I have a great desire," said Arnoldo, "to know the
truth of this; for I too have always been one of those who
believed these things; and I should like also to know if it
is a fable what is said of King Arthur of England (Note 5)
having been changed into a crow, a thing so much believed
by that wise nation that no one will kill a crow
throughout the island."
"I know not," answered Maurice, "whence arose this
saying, so generally believed, and so ill imagined."
In such discourse the night passed away. The day
dawned brightly, the sea continued calm, the wind fair.
Constance, the fair barbarian, observed that all was fair
and prosperous; but that the dreams of the worthy Maurice
had so disturbed her, she really thought the vessel was
about to go down with them all at once.
"Truly, lady," answered he, "if I was not a good
Catholic, and did not remember that which is said in Leviticus,
'Be ye not diviners, nor give belief to dreams,
because it is not given to all to understand them,' I should
venture to try and explain the dream which put me in so
great a fright: according to my way of thinking, it did
not come from any of the causes that dreams are usually
occasioned by. For when they are not divine revelations,
or illusions of the evil one, they proceed either from over
eating, which ofttimes disturbs the brain, or owing to what
has chiefly occupied one in the day-time. The dream which
disturbed me, did not belong to astrological observation; because,
without observing the stars, taking observations, marking
the points of the compass, or seeing figures, it appeared
to me that I could visibly see that we all were in a large
wooden palace, that rays came down from heaven, which
opened, and through the openings, the clouds discharged
not one, but a thousand oceans of water; so that, believing
I was going to be overwhelmed, I cried out, making such
gestures as persons naturally make when about to sink
among the waters. And I confess, I cannot yet shake off
the terror I felt then; and as I know there is no astrology
so certain as prudence, from which the clearest deductions
spring, it may be, that sailing in a ship built of wood, I
fear rays from heaven, clouds of the sky, and waves of
the sea. But that which most confounds and perplexes me,
is the knowledge that if a danger threatens us it will not
proceed from the elements, but from the forge of treachery
lurking in some wicked breast."
"I cannot believe it," said Arnoldo, "of any that are
now sailing in this ship; the blandishments of Venus, or
the lures of her false son, cannot enter here. To the honourable
and chaste, the greater the peril and fear of death,
the stronger is the incentive to keep to a virtuous life, and
shun all dishonest deeds."
This Arnoldo said, that Periander and Auristella might
understand, and all the rest who were aware of his love for
her, that he meant fully to let all his actions be directed by
virtue and honour; and he went on to say, "A good
prince lives securely amongst his vassals; treasons spring
from the fear of injustice."
"That is true," said Maurice, "and it is right it
should be so; but let this day pass, and if the night arrives
without any alarms, I will give a reward for the good
tidings."
The sun sank to rest in the arms of Thetis; the sea was
as calm as before; the wind was fair and steady, not a
cloud was to be seen that could alarm a mariner. The
skies, the sea, the wind, all promised a prosperous voyage;
when Maurice cried aloud, in a voice of terror, "Without
a doubt, we are sinking; we sink, without a doubt."
CHAPTER XIX.
Wherein is given an account of what two Soldiers did, and
how Periander and Auristella were separated.
To which cries, replied the prince Arnoldo,
"How is this, O learned Maurice? where
are these waters which overwhelm us?
where the waves that assail us?" The
answer was given by a sailor, who rushed
on deck with gestures of terror, water running from his
mouth and eyes, and in affrighted and scarcely articulate
accents, exclaimed, "The ship's sides are opening everywhere;
the sea is rushing in fast—you will soon see it
cover the deck! let every man see to his safety, and look
best how to save his life. Get the skiff out, or the barge,
O Prince Arnoldo, and take the things you value most
with you, before these cruel waves swallow up all!"
The ship was now motionless from the weight of water
in her. The pilot set all the sails with skill. Every one
in fear and terror hurried to seek for some remedy, some
means of escape. The prince and Periander got out the
smaller boat, and launched it into the sea; they placed
Auristella, Transila, Ricla, and Constance in this. Finding
that nobody thought of her, Rosamund joined herself to
the party, and after her, Arnoldo made Maurice follow.
Now there were two soldiers lowering the barge which
was hung on the ship's side, and one of them seeing that
his comrade wished to be the first to get into her, drew a
knife from his belt, and plunged it into the other's heart,
crying, "Since our crime has been committed to so little
purpose, let this serve for thy punishment and my expiation
at least during the short time I have to live." So
saying, without attempting to avail himself of the means of
escape the boat offered, he desperately flung himself into
the sea; but before he sank, he uttered these half-articulate
words:—
"Hear, O Prince Arnoldo, the truth from a traitor; at
such a moment he may well be believed. I and he whom
you have just beheld slain by my hand, made holes and
openings all through this vessel, with the intention of letting
it sink, and ourselves making our escape in the skiff with
Auristella and Transila, whose beauty we had no power to
resist, and we determined at all hazards to carry them off;
but having seen our plans defeated, contrary to our expectation,
I have taken away the life of my companion, and
now resign myself to death:" and with this last word he
let himself sink into the depths of the sea, which soon
stopped his breath, and buried him in eternal silence.
Although all were in confusion and haste, each seeking
safety in the general danger, yet Arnoldo heard clearly the
words of the dying ruffian; and he and Periander had recourse
to the barge, having before they entered it, directed
that Antonio, the younger, should go in the skiff, without
remembering to put in any provisions whatever.
The prince, Ladislaus, the elder Antonio, Periander and
Clodio got into the barge, intending to join the skiff,
which had already left the vessel, over which the waves
had now entirely closed, and nothing remained above the
waters but the mainmast, as a mark to show that she was
there entombed.
Night came on before they could reach the skiff; from
which the voice of Auristella could be distinctly heard
calling for her brother, Periander, who answered by repeatedly
uttering her beloved name.
Transila and Ladislaus did the same, so that the air resounded
with the mingled sounds of, "Dearest! my beloved!
lover! brother! bride! and sister!", whose hopes were
all frustrated, and whose prospects were changed from the
impossibility of joining one another, owing to the increasing
darkness of the night, and the wind beginning to rise,
and blow from a different quarter; so that the barge and
skiff were separated, and the former being lighter, and less
heavily laden, flew over the waves, as the wind impelled
it. The latter, from the weight of its cargo, seemed as if
determined not to move; and when night shut in darker
than ever, they felt their fears revive afresh—in an unknown
sea, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and
in want of every necessary of life; without oars, and without
provisions, though at present their anxiety prevented
them from feeling hunger.
Maurice who had gone with the party, in the capacity
of captain of the skiff, knew not how or whither to guide
its course; and from the tears, and groans, and lamentations
of his fair companions, it was to be feared they would
themselves cause it to upset. He watched eagerly for the
stars, and although they were scarcely visible, yet from
time to time they showed themselves through the darkness,
and gave hopes of the night becoming clearer, but still they
did not show in what parts they were now voyaging.
The anguish they were in was too great to allow of
the relief of sleep; so they passed the night in watching.
Day came at last; not, however, bringing with it any
comfort, but only more sorrow, because it presented to
their view the prospect of sea as far as the eye could discern
on every side; and though they gazed anxiously,
hoping to catch a sight of the barge, which bore with it
their very hearts away; or even some other ship or boat,
to give them succour in their sore distress, yet nothing
could they discover but an island on the left hand, the
sight of which gave them both joy and fear—joy to see
land so near, fear lest they should be unable to reach it unless
the wind drove them ashore.
Maurice felt more confident on the subject of their
safety than anybody; because, as I before told you, he
knew by his astrological science that this misfortune did
not portend death, but only very great inconvenience to
those who had to undergo it.
And so it happened, that at length, by the favouring
winds, and the mercy of Heaven, the little boat reached
the island, and they came ashore in a spacious bay. Not
a human being appeared, nothing but snow which covered
the face of everything. Miserable and fearful indeed are
the perils of the ocean, since they who had experienced
them could rejoice to change them for the worst the land
could offer. The snows of this desert coast to them seemed
a pleasant prospect; and even its very solitude was welcome.
They disembarked. The boy, Antonio, carried the
ladies safe to land; Maurice followed; and the party collected
together under the shelter of a large rock that was
not far from the bay, in which they landed, having first
carefully drawn their boat on shore, since in it, under God,
lay their hope of escape.
Antonio, aware that hunger must be at work among
them, and that unless food could be obtained, they must
perish; prepared his bow which was always slung upon
his shoulder, and said that he would go and see if any
living creature existed in the island; or anything wherewith
to relieve their necessities. With a light and active
step the youth set out on his expedition; but nothing did
he see, nothing but snow, frozen hard, so that he felt as if
he was walking on the sharpest flints.
Fearing that if he prosecuted his search further, he
might lose his way; at last, with a heavy heart, he returned
to his companions. Maurice said that they must needs
venture out to sea again, since nothing was to be hoped for
in this inhospitable and lonely isle.
CHAPTER XX.
A singular Adventure that befell in the Snowy Isle.
Whilst they were considering about this,
afar off they discovered a ship, the sight of
which revived their hopes; she came near,
her sails were furled, her anchors lowered,
and speedily a small boat appeared, making
for the bay where the mournful little party were in the
act of embarking in the skiff. Auristella advised that they
should delay awhile, in order to learn who these people
might be. The boat approached, and ran in upon the
frozen snow. Two fine strong-looking young men sprang
out, seemingly of brisk and gay temperament; they lifted
from the boat the fainting and nearly exhausted form of a
young woman, who looked as if she could hardly live to
reach the shore.
They called aloud to the party who were already in the
skiff, and desired that they would stop to witness an event
that was about to take place.
Maurice answered, that they had no oars to manage
their boat with, unless they could lend them some of theirs.
The sailors, who belonged to the newly-arrived boat,
brought them some, and then returned to trample the
snow. Then the two young men, each being armed with
a wooden buckler to protect his breast, and each with a
short sword in his hand, again leaped on shore. Auristella,
full of terror with the foreboding of some new misfortune,
hastened to assist the fainting damsel, and the others followed
her. The two young men exclaimed, "Stay one moment,
ladies and gentlemen, and hear what we have to say."
"This gentleman and myself," said one of the two, "are
engaged to fight for the possession of yonder weak damsel
who lies there; the death of one of us can alone decide the
question of which is to have her, since we have no other
means of settling our dispute, unless she herself would
choose which of us she would prefer for a husband, in
which case we would sheathe our swords, and calm our
spirits. What we ask of you is, that you do not in any
way interrupt our quarrel, which we shall carry to extremity
without fear of hindrance, unless it should be from
you; as you may perceive in these deserts there is nothing
we can obtain wherewith to restore the life of this damsel,
who is about to cost one of us our own. We are too much
hurried to find time to ask you who you are, or how you
came to be in this desert island, without even oars to guide
your boat, so that you cannot depart from a place which
seems uninhabited even by animals."
Maurice replied that they would do as they desired in
all respects; and immediately the two drew their swords,
and without waiting for the damsel to pronounce her decision,
began the combat; thus rather wishing to let their
quarrel be determined by the chance of arms than the inclination
of the lady.
The two combatants fought without observing rules;
after a few passes the sword of one entered his opponent's
body, and pierced his heart through and through, whilst
the stroke of the other cleft his rival's head. He had just
life enough left to approach the damsel, and lay his face
near her's; saying, I have conquered, lady, mine thou art,
and although I have but one brief moment, wherein to call
thee so, I yet consider myself the most fortunate of men.
The blood of the wounded man bathed the face of the
lady, but she was senseless, and returned no answer. The
two sailors who had rowed the boat to land, now hastened
to assist the wounded man. He who had been run through
the body, was quite dead; the other, whose head was cut
across, joined his lips to those of the bride he had so dearly
bought, and breathed his last sigh.
Auristella, who had been observing all this attentively,
but who had not yet seen closely the face of the lady, now
drew near, and wiping away the blood which had flowed
from the wounds of the man now lying dead by her side,
she recognized in the damsel her own maid Taurisa, who was
with her when she was in the hands of the Prince Arnoldo;
and he had told her that he had committed her to the care
of two gentlemen, who would convey her safely to Ireland.
Auristella stood looking upon her, astonished and wondering,
and sadder than sadness itself; yet her sorrow increased,
when it became manifest that Taurisa was no
more. "Alas! alas!" she cried, "how does Heaven continue
to mark my unfortunate existence with the most extraordinary
events: if it were pleased now to finish my misfortunes
by ending my life, I should be happy; for the sorrows
which find an end in the grave can then trouble one
no more, and death may be considered as a boon. What
is this net with which my sad destiny obstructs every path
that leads to peace and rest? What improbable adventures
are these I meet with at every turn? But tears and grief
are useless now, and lamentations are of small avail; let
us devote the time we have to spare in giving burial to the
dead, and let me not afflict the living." Then she entreated
Maurice to ask the sailors who belonged to the
ship, to return thither, and bring proper implements for
making a grave. Maurice did as she requested, and went
with them to the ship, in order to make some arrangements
with the captain, or persons in command, that they might
receive the party on board, and take them to whatever
place they might be bound to.
Meantime, Auristella and Transila prepared the corpse
of the ill-fated Taurisa for burial. Their Christian piety
and decorum would not allow of her being undrest. Maurice
returned with the necessary implements, having also
made his arrangements for their departure with the ship.
They performed the ceremony of interment for Taurisa,
but the mariners refused, as good Catholics, to pay the like
respect to the bodies of the two young men, who had died
in mortal combat.
CHAPTER XXI.
They leave the Snowy Island in the Pirate's Vessel.
The ship sailed, some among her crew lamented
much the death of the two young
officers. Another captain was chosen from
among them, and they pursued their voyage
without letting it be known what course
they meant to take. In fact, the vessel was a privateer,
and did not belong to Ireland, as Arnoldo was led to suppose,
but to an island in rebellion against England.
Maurice felt somewhat ill at ease, and not quite contented
with the company they had got amongst; fearing some
harm from their free manners and loose habits of living. He
feared that the extreme beauty of Auristella; the great comeliness
of his own daughter, Transila; the youth and charms
of Constance, with her uncommon style of dress, might
awaken evil thoughts among these lawless men. He and
the young Antonio served as Arguses, and kept a close and
anxious watch over their fair charge. Rosamund, who
had been in a declining state for some time, died; the wide
sea served for her sepulchre, and her companions, though
they could not grieve for her as a loss, yet felt her death
with true Christian compassion.
Often did they entreat that they might be conveyed to
Ireland, if it was not agreeable to the corsairs to go to
England or Scotland; but they answered, that until they
had taken a valuable prize, they should not touch at any land
whatever, unless to take in water or necessary provisions.
Ricla had sufficient wealth in her golden ingots to have
bribed them to do as they wished; but she durst not discover
her riches, lest they should take them away by force.
The captain assigned to his guests a cabin of their own,
and behaved with much respect and attention, protecting
them in all ways from the rude insolence of the crew.
And thus, for three months they continued to voyage
about—sometimes touching at one island, sometimes at
another, and scouring the seas, after the fashion of corsairs
in search of gain.
The captain, when the weather was tranquil, and his
ship becalmed, tried to entertain his guests with many a
tale and history, and Maurice did the same; but the beautiful
mourners were in general more occupied in thinking
of their lost beloved ones, than in attending to either.
Nevertheless, it happened one day that they lent an attentive
ear to a story, related by the captain, which you will
read in the following chapter.
CHAPTER XXII.
In which the Captain gives an account of the great Festivals
which were held, in the Dominions of King Polycarp.
"An island, which is situated not far from Ireland,
is my native place. It is large enough
to be called a kingdom, but is not hereditary,
nor does it go by succession. The
people elect their sovereign by their own
pleasure, always trying to secure the best and most virtuous
man they can find; and without any intermediate treaties
and negotiations, without either bribes or solicitations, the
king is chosen by the common consent of all, and takes the
sceptre of absolute command for life, or whilst his life continues
unchanged in virtues. Thus, those who are not
kings, try to be virtuous in hopes of becoming such, and
those who are kings, continue good, for fear of losing their
dignity; ambition is restrained, and covetousness annihilated.
The people live in tranquillity, justice and mercy shine
brightly forth. The former is not to be obtained or frustrated
by bribes, nor by the claims of kindred. It is a land
where none need fear insolence or wrong, and where every
man may enjoy his own in peace.
"This custom, which is in my opinion a good and wholesome
one, placed the sceptre of the kingdom in the hands
of Polycarp, a worthy and renowned man, famous both in
arms and learning; and he had, when he ascended the
throne, two daughters of remarkable beauty; the elder is
called Polycarpa, and the younger Sinforosa. They have
no mother, which was a loss he hardly felt, except as a
companion, for her virtues and good qualities were revived
in her daughters, giving a bright example to the whole
kingdom. They and their father, are beloved and admired
by every one.
"The sovereigns of this country conceiving that evil
thoughts are engendered among their subjects by melancholy,
tried to encourage mirth and amusement, and established
public festivals, and sometimes plays were performed.
The principal of these festivals is held on the
anniversary of the king's accession, when there is a revival
of what were, by the heathens in ancient days, called
Olympic Games, in the best manner they are able. Prizes
are given to the swiftest runners; honours adjudged to the
most successful in fencing; crowns to the best archer, and
rewards for wrestling. These games take place in a spacious
plain, near the sea-shore; the spectators are sheltered from
the sun by an infinite quantity of green boughs intertwined
together. In the midst is a sumptuous theatre, in which
are seats for the king and royal family, who are always
present to survey the games.
"One of these days had arrived, and Polycarp desired
to celebrate it with greater magnificence than had ever before
been known. He and his daughters, with all the greatest
in the land, were already seated; the sound of musical
instruments, both warlike and pacific, had given the signal
that the sports were about to begin; already four youths,
light and active in make, were ready to start for the race,
only waiting till a cord should be withdrawn which served
as a line of restraint till the signal should be given; when,
just at this instant, a boat was seen approaching, with her
sides white, as if newly-painted, and impelled through the
waters by six oars on either side, in the hands of twelve
graceful youths, of robust and finely formed make, ample
shoulders, broad chests, and strong arms. They were
dressed in white, all but the one who steered, and he was
in the scarlet dress of a mariner. The boat flew rapidly over
the waves, and to run her ashore, and all the men in her
to leap on land, was the work of an instant. Polycarp
commanded that the race should not begin till it was ascertained
who these new comers were, and what they came
for, as it was possible they were coming to assist at the
festival, and prove their skill and prowess in the games.
"The first who advanced to speak to the king, was he who
had steered the boat; a very young man, whose smooth
skin was fair as snow, his curling hair like rings of gold,
and every feature of his face so perfect, his whole form so
beautiful, that it was a wondrous sight to look upon. His
beauty instantly won all hearts, and I, among the rest, felt
directly attracted to love and admire him. He addressed
the king, saying, 'Sire! these my companions and myself,
having heard the fame of these games, come to offer our
services, and to assist at their celebration. We are not
come from a far country, but from a ship, which we left
in the Isle of Scinta, which is not very distant. As the
wind did not suit to bring her here, we got the boat ready,
and manned her ourselves. We are all of noble birth, desirous
to win honour; and what we come to demand of
you as a king, is, that you will allow us, strangers, to show
our strength, or skill, or ingenuity, so as to obtain renown
ourselves, and afford pleasure to you.'
"'Certainly, my agreeable young gentleman,' answered
the king, 'you make your request with so much grace and
courtesy, that it would be difficult to refuse it; you will
honour my festival by your presence. Do all you please,
and leave to me the charge of bestowing the rewards on
those who deserve them; and if I am to judge from what
I see, I should say few will have a chance of winning the
first prizes while you are present.'
"The beautiful youth gracefully bent his knee, and
bowed his head in thanks, respectfully, and with an air of
high breeding. In two bounds he stood before the cord
by the side of the four runners; his twelve comrades placed
themselves on one side as spectators of the race. A trumpet
sounded, the cord was loosed, and the five sprang forwards
at full speed; but they had not run twenty paces, when the
new comer was more than seven paces ahead; at thirty
paces he had gained nearly fifteen; finally he left them half
way behind, as if they had been made of stone, to the admiration
of all beholders, especially of Sinforosa, who followed
him with her eyes, whether he ran, or whether he stood
still; for indeed the beauty and grace of the youth was
enough to attract every eye, and win the hearts of every
one that looked upon him. I observed all attentively, because
I had my eyes fixed upon Polycarpa, the lovely object
of my affections, and thus I remarked also the motions
of her sister. Envy began to rise in the breasts of those
who were intending to try for the prizes, when they saw
the ease with which the stranger had won the race. The
second trial was that of fencing; the boy took the foil, and
of seven who encountered him, he hit one on the mouth,
the nose of another, closed the eyes of a third, and gave
blows about the head repeatedly, whilst not one of his adversaries
ever succeeded in touching so much as a bit of his
clothing.
"With one accord, the public voice adjudged the first
prize to him.
"Then six men prepared for wrestling; and the boy,
with more grace than ever, bared his broad shoulders, his
wide and ample chest, and the nerves and muscles of his
strong arms, and with incredible address and dexterity, he
shortly made each antagonist measure his length on the
ground. Next he lifted a heavy iron bar, which was
driven into the earth, because he was told that throwing
this was the fourth trial of strength. He swung it for a
moment, and then making signs for the people who were
before him to stand aside, that he might have space for the
throw, he flung the bar without turning his arm round,
with such force, that, passing the bounds of the shore, the
sea received it, and there it lay buried. This surprising
feat dismayed his opponents, and none dared so much as
to enter the lists in this contest. They next gave him a
cross-bow, and some arrows, and showed him a very high
and smooth pole, at the top of which was fastened part of
a lance, on which a dove was sitting, tied by a slight pack-thread.
Those who were to make this trial, were only
permitted a single shot. One, who was esteemed a very
skilful marksman, stepped forward, hoping I believe to
knock the dove over, before the other could try; he drew
his bow, and the arrow struck the end of the lance, the
affrighted bird rose into the air; immediately another, not
less confident than the first, aimed with such dexterity, that
he divided the string which tied the dove, and released
from its bonds, it soared free into the sky; but the youth,
who had already gained every first prize, let his arrow fly,
and, as if he had given it its mandate what to do, and it
understood him, it went whistling through the air, and
divided the bird in two, arresting at once its flight and its
life. Then the cries and acclamations of the spectators
were renewed, and all praised the stranger, who in the
race, the fencing-match, wrestling, throwing the bar, and
drawing the cross-bow, with sundry other exercises which
I have not mentioned, was unrivalled, and bore away every
first prize, leaving it to his Companions to make their essay,
after he had tried each once.
"It was twilight when the games finished; and when the
king Polycarp arose from his seat, with the other judges,
who were there to pronounce who were the conquerors,
and was preparing to reward the victorious boy, he saw
him kneeling before him, and saying, 'Our ship is left unprotected
and deserted; the night is coming on; whatever
prizes I have to hope for, coming from your hand, will be
highly esteemed by me: but, great king, let me pray you
to leave them for another time, when, at more leisure, and
with more convenience, I may return to offer my services,
and claim them at your hands.'
"The king raised and embraced him; asked his name,
and he told him he was called Periander. Then the beautiful
Sinforosa took a garland from her head, and placed it
on that of the noble youth, and with sweet and modest
grace, she said as she crowned him, 'When my father is
so fortunate as to see you return, you will find that you
do not come to serve him, but to be served, in every way
that is in his power.'"
CHAPTER XXIII.
How Auristella became a prey to jealousy when she found
that it was her Periander who won all the Prizes at the
Festival.
O mighty power of jealousy! O infirmity,
that art so planted in the heart, that thou
canst only be uprooted thence with life itself!
Ah! beauteous Auristella, stay and reflect
ere you allow yourself to become a prey to
this cruel suffering! But who can restrain thought within
bounds, which is so light and subtle, that bodyless it passes
through stone walls, enters human bosoms, and penetrates
the deepest recesses of the soul?
I have said this, because, when Auristella heard the
name of Periander pronounced, and having before heard
the praises of Sinforosa, and now hearing of the favour she
had shown to him by placing her garland on his head, suspicion
entered her heart, her patience failed, and uttering
a deep sigh, she embraced Transila, and said, "O dear
friend, I pray to Heaven that thou hast not lost thy beloved
Ladislaus, as I lose my brother Periander. Dost
thou not hear from the lips of this worthy gentleman, that
he is honoured as conqueror, crowned as the victor, and
more attentive to win the favour of a fair lady, than to
take the trouble of seeking after the wandering steps of his
poor sister? He goes about seeking laurels and trophies in
foreign lands, and leaves her among the wild rocks and
mountains, and perils of the angry ocean, who by his advice
and for his pleasure, am placed amid all these dangers."
The captain of the ship listened to these words with
great attention, and knew not what conclusion to draw
from them. He was about to speak, but the words that
were going to be uttered were arrested suddenly, for the
wind rose all at once with such fury, that he was forced to
leave Auristella without an answer, and call to his sailors to
mind the sails, reef and secure them. All hands hastened
to the work. The ship began to fly before the wind, over
a tremendous sea; Maurice, with his companions, retired to
their cabin, to leave the deck free for the mariners. There,
Transila asked Auristella what meant the sudden alarm that
had seized her, caused, as it seemed, by only hearing the
name of her brother, Periander; and she could not conceive
why the praises and successes of a brother should give her
so much disquiet.
"Alas! my friend," replied Auristella, "so it is, that I
am forced to keep perpetual silence over this pilgrimage I
am upon; which seems doomed to be endless, unless life
should end first; I am obliged to keep it. If you knew who
I am (would to heaven that you might know!) you would
see the exculpation of my fears, for you would know then
what has given them birth; you would see misfortunes unlooked-for,
and labyrinths, from whose mazes you would
not conceive it possible to escape—you would see how
strong can be the bond of fraternal love.
"You would see how natural it is for lovers to be jealous,
if I, with great propriety, am jealous of a brother. This
captain, my friend, does he not exaggerate the beauty of
Sinforosa? and do not you see her crowning the head of
Periander? Yes, doubtless; and this brother of mine,
have not you seen how beautiful and brave he is? Then,
how likely it is that he has awakened feelings in the heart
of Sinforosa, that have made him forget his sister?"
"Remember, lady," answered Transila, "that all this
which the captain has been relating, happened before the
time of the captivity in the barbarous island, and that since
then you have both seen and discoursed with your brother,
and have you not found that he loves nobody as he loves
you, and cares for nothing but to please you. And I do not
believe that jealousy can ever be so strong as to divide a
sister from a brother."
"Daughter," said old Maurice, "the effects of human
love are often as different as they are unreasonable. Do
you endeavour to be prudent and discreet enough, not to
try and fathom the thoughts of others, nor desire to know
more than they choose to tell you of themselves. Curiosity
about one's neighbour's affairs is to be censured and
avoided."
Auristella heard Maurice say this, and it made her determine
to keep her own secret, and hold her tongue; for
Transila, who was a little indiscreet, might soon have contrived,
to draw from her, and make public, all her history.
The wind abated, without having caused the danger
which the sailors feared, or disturbing the passengers. The
captain came to visit them, and to finish his story, for he
was very anxious to learn what could be the cause of Auristella's
disturbance on hearing the name of Periander.
Auristella, on her part, wished much to hear more of the
history, and to learn from the captain whether Sinforosa
had bestowed any other favours upon Periander, besides
that of crowning him with her garland; and, accordingly,
she asked him the question very modestly, and with caution,
lest he should suspect her motive.
The captain replied, that Sinforosa had no opportunity
to bestow more favours (since that was the word for the
civilities of ladies) on Periander, but that in spite of the
excellence of Sinforosa, he thought that she kept him much
in her imagination; for after he was gone, when any one
spoke of his graces and charms, she praised them up to the
skies; and she had persuaded her father to send out a vessel
in search of him, and make him return to his court,
which more confirmed his suspicions.
"What! is it possible," said Auristella, "that high-born
maidens, daughters of kings, whom fortune has set
in high places, should humble themselves so much as to
suffer their secret thoughts to be discovered by their subjects?
And seeing that it is a truth, that greatness and majesty
do not agree well with love, it follows of course that
Sinforosa, a princess, beautiful and free, ought not to have
been captivated at first sight, by an unknown boy, whose
rank could not be very exalted, when he came, the steersman
of a boat, with twelve half-naked companions, as all
rowers are."
"Auristella, my daughter," said Maurice, "be silent,
there are more miracles displayed by love than by any other
human passion; so many and so wonderful are they, that
they pass in silence unnoticed, however remarkable they
may be. Love joins the sceptre with the shepherd's crook;
greatness with low estate. It makes possible the impossible,
renders different ranks equal, and is powerful as death.
You, lady, well know, and so do I also, the fine qualities
and rare beauty of your brother Periander; and it is the
privilege of beauty to attract and subdue all hearts. Such
characters as his, the more they are known, the more are
they loved and esteemed; so it would be no miracle if
Sinforosa, all princess though she is, should love your
brother; because it is not as the simple Periander alone,
that she loves, but as one in whom beauty, valour, dexterity,
activity, in short every merit and accomplishment is
centred."
"What, then," cried the captain, "Periander is this
lady's brother?"
"Yes!" answered Transila, "for whose sake she lives
in perpetual sadness, and all of us, her friends who love her
and wish her well, and who know him also, in grief and
bitterness." Then they related to him the whole story of
the wreck and loss of Arnoldo's ship; the separation of
the barge and skiff, with all else that was necessary to make
him understand what had happened up to the present
moment. And at this part of their history the author of
the first volume leaves them and passes to the second,
wherein things will be related which although they do not
surpass truth, yet go beyond what one could conceive,
since they could scarcely enter into the most lively and
expansive imagination.
BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
Wherein it is related how the Ship was turned upside down,
with all that were in her.
It would seem as though the author of this
history was more of a lover than an historian;
for nearly the whole of the first chapter
of his Second Book is spent in a definition
of jealousies, caused by that which was
shown by Auristella, on account of the story told by the
captain of the vessel. But, as it appears to me to be prolix,
I shall omit it in this translation, and come to facts, which
were as follows:—
The wind changing, and the clouds gathering, night
came on very dark and gloomy, and the thunder sending
forth the lightning as messenger, disturbed and bewildered
the mariners. Then began the tempest with a fury that
no power or skill could withstand, for it came all at once
and without warning; but nevertheless each man was at
his post, doing the work that was necessary if not to save,
at least to prolong life. The boldest got planks, that they
might have something to support them like a raft, in case
the ship should go to pieces. Maurice held his daughter,
Transila, in his embrace; Antonio clasped in his, his mother
and sister. The sad Auristella alone remained without
anyone to support her. She had no hope but in death,
and would gladly have even sought it, if her religion had
not forbidden this, and religion was now her only resource;
so she took refuge with the others, and they in a knot, or
rather one might say a heap, lay crouched in the most hidden
corner of the ship, to escape the fearful sound of the
thunder, and the flashes of the lightning, and the confused
cries of the mariners. In this sort of prison they were
at least spared from seeing the ship lifted one instant almost
up to the clouds, and at another sweep with her very topmast
the depths of the ocean below. They closed their
eyes, expecting death, fearing it, though they could not
see the shape in which it was to come.
The storm increased so as to baffle the skill of the mariners
and the care of the captain, and finally the hope of all
on board. No voice was heard now, giving orders for
this or that to be done; but cries, and prayers, and vows
to Heaven for aid, and so extreme was their misery, that
Transila thought not of her Ladislaus, nor Auristella of
Periander. One of the powerful effects of approaching
death, is to blot from the memory all things that belong to
this life; and if it is able to make the jealous heart forget
its pangs, one may indeed say it can do even the impossible.
There was no hour-glass to mark how time passed,
nor compass, nor any means of discovering what place they
were in. All was confusion; all were crying, sighing, and
praying. The captain was dismayed; the mariners gave
up all exertion; human strength was of no avail. The
general despair at last made all silent. The rude sea
broke over the very deck, and even over the highest masts,
which, as if in revenge for the insult, struck as it were into
the very sands below. At break of day, if so it could be
called, when there came no light with it, the ship remained
water-logged and immoveable, which is one of the
worst disasters that can befall a vessel. At length a furious
hurricane lifted her up, as though by some machinery,
burying the topmasts in the depths of ocean, and leaving
her keel turned up to the skies, making her a tomb for all
who were within her.
"Adieu to all the chaste thoughts of Auristella! adieu to
all her pious intentions! Rest in peace, honoured and holy
one; no other mausoleum, no other monument canst thou
expect, except a few poor frail planks. And thou, O Transila,
bright example of maiden purity, though thy bridal
bed will not be shared with thine espoused Ladislaus, yet
wilt thou in the arms of thy wise and aged parent find that
hope which will guide thee to a far happier resting-place.
"And thou, O Ricla, clasp in thy arms Antonio and Constance,
thy children, and commit them to Him who now
takes away your lives, only to give you a far better one
in Heaven."
Such were the words of the author of this most remarkable
and pitiful history, in consequence of the upsetting of
the ship, and the certain death (as might be supposed) of
all who were in her; and what more he says, will be seen
in the following chapter.
CHAPTER II.
An extraordinary Event.
The ship was, as I have said, buried in the
waters, and within her were the dead bodies
sepulchred, as it seemed without a hope, and
destitute of aid. But pitying Heaven, which
sometimes helps the unfortunate, when at
the last extremity, so ordered it, that the vessel was cast
ashore by the waves in an open bay, which seemed as if
it served as a safe harbour, from its tranquillity. Not far
off was a port capable of containing many vessels, and in
these waters, as in a clear mirror, might be seen reflected
the buildings of a large and populous city, which reared
its head on the summit of a lofty hill.
The people in the city saw the wreck, and thought that
it was a whale or some other large fish that had been encountered
by the tempest. A good number sallied forth
to see, and ascertaining it to be a ship, the news reached
the ears of the King Polycarp, for he was the lord of this
city; and accompanied by many persons, amongst whom
were his two beautiful daughters, Polycarpa and Sinforosa,
he went out to give orders that with capstanes, windlass,
and with boats to row round the ship, she should be
brought into port. Several men jumped upon the wreck,
and told the king that they could plainly hear a sound of
knocking within, and they almost fancied of human voices.
An old knight, who was standing near the king, said, "I
remember, Sire, having once seen in the Mediterranean
Sea, in the Gulf of Genoa, a Spanish galley, that in shortening
sail had upset like this vessel before us, and remained
bottom upwards. Before they turned her over, having
first heard a noise, as they say they hear in this, they sawed
an opening in the hull, so that they might look into the inside;
and upon the light being admitted, they discovered
the captain of the vessel and four of his crew all alive
therein. I saw this, myself, and the details of the story
are given in many Spanish histories. The persons who
were thus brought into the world a second time, from the
womb of the vessel, are yet living, and if here the same
thing should happen, it need not be esteemed a miracle,
but a mystery, for miracles are events that occur out of the
order of nature, and mysteries are things that seem to be
miracles, but yet are not so, only of very rare occurrence."
"What then do we wait for?" said the king. "Let
us open this vessel instantly, and see the mystery, but if
this should disgorge anything living, a miracle I shall consider
it to be." Great was the haste they made to open
the hull, and great the anxiety of all present to see the
bringing forth. At last a pretty wide opening was made,—many
bodies, seemingly dead, lay within; but one man
laid his hands on the body of a woman whose heart still
beat, and showed symptoms of life; others did the same,
and each man brought out a body, some dead, some living.
All the fishermen were not equally lucky. Those who yet
breathed when brought into the air and light, and their
faces washed and restoratives given, began to move their
limbs and gaze around them, as if awakened from a deep
sleep. Auristella found herself in the arms of Arnoldo,
Transila in those of Clodio; Ricla and Constance were
carried out by Rutilio and the elder Antonio. As for Antonio,
the son, nobody carried him, for he walked out by
himself, and Maurice did the like. Arnoldo was more full
of surprise and wonder than even the newly-restored ones,
and almost as senseless as the dead corpses. Auristella
looked at him, but without recognition. The first words
she uttered were, (and she it was who first broke the universal
silence,) "Is the beautiful Sinforosa here by chance
among these persons, O my brother?"
"Great Heavens! what is this I hear?" said Arnoldo
to himself; "what means this strange inquiry after Sinforosa,
at a moment when she ought only to be thinking of
returning thanks to Heaven for her wonderful preservation?"
Nevertheless he answered that she was there present,
and asked how she knew anything about her, for of
course he was ignorant of all that Auristella had learned
from the captain of the vessel touching Periander and his
success at the games; and he could not divine the reason of
Auristella inquiring for Sinforosa. Had he divined it, such
is the force of jealousy, that it would have pierced into the
inmost recesses of his enamoured heart like a knife, and
would almost have separated soul and body.
As soon as the resuscitated ones had a little recovered
from their terror, and those around from their astonishment,
they began confusedly asking questions one of another;
how those they found on land had come there; and
they in their turn, how these had been in the wrecked
vessel. Polycarp, seeing that she had filled with water
through the aperture which had been made, now commanded
that she should be towed into the harbour, and
drawn ashore by means of machinery, which was speedily
done. All the people who had been in the hull now
came ashore, and were received by the king and his daughters,
and all the principal citizens, with as much joy as
admiration; but what chiefly excited this, especially in
Sinforosa, was the incomparable loveliness of Auristella.
Transila, too, was very much admired; and the odd, but
becoming dress, the youth and grace of the fair barbarian,
Constance, (not to mention the comeliness of her mother,
Ricla,) did not pass unnoticed.
The city being near, without more ado they all went
thither on foot.
Periander had, during this time, found an opportunity
of speaking to Auristella, Ladislaus to Transila, and Antonio
to his wife and children; all were relating their adventures
to one another; only Auristella was silent, occupied
entirely in looking at Sinforosa. But at length she
said to Periander, "Is that very beautiful lady, who is
walking yonder, by chance the king's daughter; and is her
name Sinforosa?"
"She is," answered Periander, "one in whom beauty
and courtesy unite."
"Very courteous she ought to be," replied Auristella,
"for she is very beautiful."
"Even if she were not so much so," he rejoined, "the
obligations I owe to her, my sweet sister, would make her
seem fair in my eyes."
"If you go by obligations, and if they help to enhance
beauty, mine must then seem the greatest on earth to you,
according to those you owe me."
"We cannot," said Periander, "compare things divine
with things human. Praise and hyperbole, however excessive,
has each its limit. When one says a woman is more
beautiful than an angel, it is a kind of exaggeration by
courtesy; in thy case alone, O sweetest sister mine, rules
fail, and truth only gathers strength from speaking of thy
beauty."
"If my sufferings and my miseries have not injured
mine, O my brother, I might perhaps believe that the
praises you bestow upon it are true; but I put my hope
in a compassionate Heaven, that my sorrows may at last be
one day turned into joy, and my troubles into prosperity.
Meanwhile, I implore you, never to let what you owe to
me be erased from your memory by any other charms or
obligations whatsoever; but that mine may satisfy your
heart, and fill the vacuum there, if you find that the beauty
of my mind and person, such as it is, offers a compound of
charms that can satisfy your wishes."
Periander was confounded to hear Auristella speak thus.
He saw that she was jealous, a new thing in her; since in
all his experience of her character, he had never known
her before to depart from the bounds of politeness: never
before had her lips opened to express any but the purest
and most modest thoughts. Never had she uttered a word,
that might not have been spoken to a brother, in public as
well as in private.
Arnoldo, on his side, was discontented and jealous of
Periander. Ladislaus was rejoiced to have again his betrothed
Transila; Maurice was satisfied with his daughter
and son-in-law; Antonio happy to be restored to his wife
and children; Rutilio, with the reunion of the whole
party; and the gossip-loving Clodio with the fair opportunity
that offered itself of having a fine and marvellous
story to tell, wherever he went, of such remarkable events
as these.
They reached the city, and the generous Polycarp treated
his new guests royally, and lodged them all in his palace;
honouring most Arnoldo, whom he now knew to be the
heir of Denmark, who had left his country for love of
Auristella; and as soon as he had looked upon her lovely
face, he confessed that he found there full and sufficient
excuse for him.
Polycarpa and Sinforosa assigned to Auristella a lodging
in their own apartments; Sinforosa could never take her
eyes off from looking at her, thanking Heaven that she was
the sister, and not the beloved, of Periander; and adoring
her, both on account of her excessive beauty and of her relationship
to him. She could not bear her to be out of her
sight a single instant; she watched closely her every action,
attended to every word she spoke, admired her graceful
motions, and took delight even in the very tones of her
voice.
In the same manner, and as closely did Auristella watch
and observe Sinforosa, but with very different feelings.
Auristella's observations were excited by her jealousy,
Sinforosa's by simple benevolence and love.
They remained in the city many days, reposing after all
their sufferings; and Arnoldo was now beginning to plan a
return to Denmark, or wherever Auristella and Periander
might approve, showing as he had always done, that he had
no will but theirs.
Clodio, always idle and inquisitive, had watched Arnoldo
closely, and saw how much he had at heart the love of
Auristella. One day, being alone with him, he said, "I,
who have always been accustomed to find fault with princes
publicly, without preserving the respect due to their high
rank, would now fain, in private, speak my mind freely to
you. What I ask of you is, that you will hear patiently
the advice I am about to give, and let my motive plead my
excuse, if it is unpleasing to you." Arnoldo was puzzled,
not knowing what Clodio was going to say; however, he
determined to hear him, and so told him he might say
freely what he pleased; and Clodio, satisfied with this safe
conduct, proceeded thus:—"My lord, you love Auristella.
I may say more, you adore her; and, as I understand, you
know no more of her history, nor who she is, than what
she has been pleased to tell you; and that is—nothing!
You have kept her in your power more than two years,
during which, I have heard, you took all the pains possible
to conquer her severity, and gain her heart, wishing to
make her yours by lawful marriage, and yet that she is as
cold and immoveable now, as she was the first day you
spoke to her; whence I argue, that she is as deficient in
understanding, as you are superabundant in patience; and
it is worthy of consideration, whether there may not exist
some great mystery, causing a woman thus to refuse a kingdom,
and reject a prince so worthy of being loved. Likewise,
it is mysterious to see a wandering damsel, her rank
unknown, accompanied only by a youth, who though he
calls himself her brother, may yet not be so, going about
from one country to another, from island to island, exposed
to the inclemency of the weather, and to the rude treatment
and dangers of the land, as well as of the ocean. Honour
is dearer than life itself. A wise man should permit reason
to moderate his pleasures, and ought not to give way
to his own desires." Clodio was here about to enter
upon a philosophical and serious tirade, when Periander
came in, and interrupted his oration, greatly to his annoyance,
and also to that of Arnoldo, who wished to hear
him out. Maurice, Ladislaus, and Transila also came in,
and with them Auristella, supported by Sinforosa, so ill,
that it was necessary to convey her to her bed; her illness
causing such agonies of alarm in the bosoms of Periander
and Arnoldo, that they stood nearly as much in need of a
physician as Auristella.
CHAPTER III.
Sinforosa reveals her love to Auristella.
The instant that the king heard of Auristella's
illness, he sent his physicians to visit her.
They discovered that her ailment proceeded
more from the mind than the body. Arnoldo
and Periander had partly guessed this, and
Clodio better than anybody.
The physicians ordered that she should never be left
alone, and that they should try and divert her mind with
music, if she took pleasure in hearing it, or with any other
cheerful amusement. Sinforosa took upon herself the care
of the invalid, and bestowed her company upon her continually—a
kindness which Auristella could willingly have
excused, seeing that it was keeping the very cause of her
illness always before her eyes. She could not expect a cure,
because she was resolved not to tell what ailed her.
She was at length left alone in her apartment with only
the two princesses; Sinforosa soon found an excuse to get
rid of Polycarpa; and hardly did she see herself alone with
Auristella, than embracing her, and pressing both her hands
closely in her own, with deep and heavy sighs, she seemed
as if she wished to translate her own soul into the body of
Auristella, who was greatly disturbed by her emotion, and
said, "What ails you, lady, what mean these signs of suffering;
as if you, more than myself, required the aid of a
physician? Tell me how I can help you, or serve you; for
although my body is weak, my will is strong."
"Sweet friend, how much your offer gratifies me," answered
Sinforosa, "and with the same readiness you show
in obliging me, I will reply, without any affected politeness,
or frigid compliments. My sister, for I must call you by
that name whilst life endures, my sister! I am in love;
very much in love; but shame, and being what I am, restrain
my tongue. Must I die in silence? Is there any
miracle that can cure my complaint?"
Sinforosa said all this, with so many sighs and tears that
Auristella was moved to dry her eyes and embrace her,
saying, "Do not die, O most afflicted lady, with thus constraining
your tongue to silence. Cast away for a time
shame and bashfulness, and confide your secret to me; for
griefs communicated, if not healed, are at least alleviated;
if, as I guess, your sorrows are those of love, well do I
know that you are made of flesh and blood, although you
look like alabaster; and as I also know that our hearts are
formed to be restless, and that they cannot help loving those
whom their stars have decreed they must love, whether
they will or no. Tell me then, lady, who it is you love;
for, as it is not probable that you have, like some in ancient
story, taken a bull, or a shower of gold and silver for the
object of your worship, it must needs be some man that
you adore; and this will not cause either fear or amazement
in me, for I am woman as you are, and have my own
inclinations and feelings; and though they have never escaped
from my lips for maiden shame, yet they might well
have done so in the unconsciousness of fever. But the hour
will come at last when all disguise must cease; and it may
be that in my last will, you will learn the cause of my
death."
Sinforosa kept looking at her all the while she spoke, and
treasured every word she uttered as if it were an oracle.
"Ah, me! sweet lady," said she, "I believe that you
were sent hither through such extraordinary ways, by
Heaven itself, miraculously sent to this land to comfort and
console me in my sorrows; and that you were out of the
dark hold of the vessel restored to the light of day, to bring
light to my darkened soul, and rescue it from the trouble it
has been in; and so, not to keep you or myself longer in suspense,
you shall know that to this island came your brother,
Periander;" and then she detailed in regular succession the
facts of his arrival, the triumphs and honours that he had
won, and the difficulties he had conquered, as we have already
described. She further told how the grace and beauty
of Periander had awakened in her mind a sort of feeling that
at first was not love, but simple kindness and admiration;
how in time, with idleness and dwelling upon the subject,
and accustoming herself to contemplate his graces, love began
to represent him to her, not as a simple individual, but
rather as a prince, that if he was not one, he deserved so
to be. "This idea weighed upon my mind, and unthinkingly
I suffered it to rest there, without making any resistance;
and so by little and little I came to like him, to love him,
and even to adore him as I have told you."
She would have said more, if at this instant Polycarpa
had not returned, desirous of amusing Auristella, with a
small harp in her hands to which she was singing. Sinforosa
was agitated; Auristella thunderstruck; but the emotion
of the one, and the stupor of the other did not prevent
them both from lending an attentive ear to the
incomparable musician, who sang the following words in
her own language, which Antonio afterwards translated
thus—
SONG.
If nothing, Cynthia, can avail
To win thy lost heart back again,
Give way to grief, relinquish life,
'Tis nothing worth, why not complain?
The maiden pride with which thou fain
The fatal passion would subdue,
Itself will strike the murd'rous blow,
Too late shalt thou thy silence rue.
Poor broken heart! thy latest sigh
Shall breathe at last thy secret woe;
Far wiser had it timely told
Its tale of sorrow long ago.
Lamenting thee, the world shall learn
How deep the love thy heart had cherished,
And some perchance may vainly grieve
To think how true a heart has perished.
Nobody understood Polycarpa's verses so well as Sinforosa;
her sister was acquainted with all her wishes; and
although she had determined to bury them in silence, she
now desired to follow her advice by telling her thoughts to
Auristella as she had already begun to do. Many times
did Sinforosa visit Auristella, giving her to understand that
it was more from civility than inclination: at length she one
day resumed the subject of their previous conversation, saying,
"Hear me once more, dear lady, and do not be weary
of my discourse; my heart will burst if I do not speak; and
the fear of this in spite of shame, forces me to tell you that
I must die if I cannot obtain your brother's love; his virtues
have so enslaved my heart, that, without knowing
what may be his birth, country, or means of living, I only
see the liberal gifts with which nature has endowed him.
For himself alone, I love him; for himself alone, I desire
to marry him; and I beseech you not to think amiss of
my hasty passion, but do me all the good in your power.
I have immense wealth left me by my mother, unknown to
my father. What I am, you see; I may not deserve his
love, but do I merit his aversion? Give me your brother
as my husband. Be my sister; I will divide my riches
with you. I will find a husband for you, who may be one
day elected king of this country." Sinforosa held Auristella's
hands in hers, bathing them with her tears, as she
poured forth her love-sick soul. Auristella wept also; judging
by her own feelings what must be the conflict of an enamoured
heart; and, although she saw a rival in Sinforosa,
still she pitied her; and the more that she had never offended
her in any way that could demand vengeance; her
fault was the same as her own, her wishes the same. She
could not condemn the princess without finding herself
guilty of the same crime. What Auristella was most anxious
to discover was, if she had ever bestowed any favours on
Periander, even of the smallest kind; or whether by word
or look she had ever betrayed her tenderness to him. Sinforosa
replied, that never once had she possessed boldness
enough to raise her eyes to those of Periander, or look at
him but with the reserve she owed to her high rank and
station; and that the license of her tongue had not exceeded
that of her eyes. "I believe you, truly," said Auristella;
"but is it possible that he has never shown you any signs
of love? If he loves you, and he surely must, for I do
not think he has a heart of marble, beauty such as yours
must have touched and softened his. It is my opinion that
before I can get over this difficulty, you must try to speak
with him, and find an occasion to bestow some modest favour
upon him; for sometimes unexpected and unsought
favours will arouse and inflame the most lukewarm and
careless hearts. If once he answers to your feelings, it
will be easy for me to make him satisfy you in all things.
The beginning, my friend, is the only difficulty in all things;
in love affairs, especially, most difficult. I do not advise
you to be either precipitate or forward; for the favours of
a maiden to him she loves, however chaste they may be,
never appear so; and you must not venture honour for the
sake of pleasure. Discreet conduct may do much; and
love, subtle master of the art of conveying thoughts, offers
opportunity and time to the most troubled, that they may
exchange them without any danger."
CHAPTER IV.
Wherein is continued the History of Sinforosa's Love.
The enamoured Sinforosa listened attentively
to the prudent counsels of Auristella; but
without replying to them, she returned to
take up again the thread of their past discourse,
saying, "You shall see, my friend,
to what extremities this love for your brother has brought
me; it made me send a captain, one of my father's guard,
in search of him; and to bring him back to my presence,
either by force or by his own good will. The vessel in
which he embarked is the same in which you arrived hither,
for his body was found among the dead."
"Very probably," answered Auristella, "for I heard
from his lips a great part of what you have told me; insomuch,
that I had already a notion, although somewhat confused,
of your feelings towards him; which, if it be possible,
I wish you to calm and compose, till you are able to
discover them to my brother, or till I can undertake to find
a remedy for you, which shall be as soon as you have told
me what is the result of your interview. You cannot fail
in finding an opportunity shortly." Sinforosa renewed her
thanks to Auristella, and she in return anew expressed her
sympathy.
Meantime, whilst this was passing between the Princess
and Auristella, Arnoldo was in the company of Clodio,
who was dying to disturb or destroy, if possible, the tender
sentiments he entertained for Auristella, and finding him
alone (if a man can be said to be alone whose soul is continually
occupied with one image) said to him, "I told you,
my lord, the other day, how little dependance was to be
placed on the volatile nature of woman; and after all Auristella
is a woman, though to you she seems an Angel.
And Periander is a man, although he is her brother. Now,
I am far from wishing to excite evil suspicions in your
breast, but merely to create a little prudent caution, and if
you think what I suggest is reasonable, I wish you sometimes
to consider who you are, the loneliness of your
father; how much your presence is wanted by your vassals;
the chance that may happen of even losing your kingdom,
which is as a vessel deserted by its pilot! I would have
you observe that princes are usually obliged to marry, not
merely for beauty, but for high birth; not for riches so
much as for virtue and noble qualities, that they may give
good successors to the kingdom. It lessens the respect
which a people owe to the sovereign, if they see him demean
himself in an alliance; and it is not enough to say that
a king stands so high and is so great himself, that it matters
nothing if the wife he selects be of low degree. Therefore,
my noble lord, either return to your kingdom, or look well
and with caution that you are not deceived; and pardon this
boldness in me, for although I have the character of being
an evil-speaker and a backbiter, I do not wish to be thought
bad intentioned; with you I would fain find a shelter, and
beneath the shield of your valour I would spend my life,
fearing no more the storms of fate, for already a better
star seems dawning to amend my character and life, hitherto
so depraved."
"I thank you, Clodio," replied Arnoldo, "for your
good advice, but I cannot profit by it or accept it. Auristella
is virtuous; Periander is her brother; and I cannot
doubt this, because she has herself said so; and for
me, her word is truth. I adore her; there is no denying
that the infinite measure of her beauty raises her so far
above my desires, that I exist only in her, and for her alone
has been, is, and will be, life desirable. Therefore, O
Clodio, counsel me no more; for your words are only scattered
to the winds, and my conduct will prove how useless
is all your advice."
Clodio shrugged his shoulders, hung his head, and left
the prince's presence, resolved to attempt no more to be
his adviser; because, to be so, requires three qualities, the
first is authority, the second prudence, and the third is to
be acceptable, and the counsel desired. These amorous
struggles and distresses were busy in the palace of King
Polycarp and the bosoms of the lovers. Auristella jealous;
Sinforosa, love-lorn; Periander, uneasy; Arnoldo, pertinacious;
and Maurice busy arranging plans for returning
to his own country, sorely against Transila's inclination,
who had no wish to go back to a place of which the customs
and manners were so rude and barbarous; her husband,
Ladislaus, neither dared nor desired to contradict
her. The elder Antonio was dying to see himself, his
wife and children in Spain; and Rutilio sighed after Italy,
his native land. Each had wishes, yet was not a single one
of them accomplished; this is the lot of humanity, which
though God created it perfect, was by our sin made imperfect;
and this imperfection we must endure until we
cease to wish for anything.
It happened, then, that Sinforosa almost purposely gave
Periander an opportunity of being alone with Auristella,
wishing to afford her a means of opening the subject of her
case, the sentence of which would be to her that of life or
death. The first words Auristella said, were, "This,
our pilgrimage, my lord and brother, so full of sufferings
and surprises, threatening so many dangers, daily and
hourly, leaves me in fear of death; and I wish we could
form some plan to make life more secure, by remaining quiet
in some place; nowhere shall we find one better than this
where we are now, for here are riches offered you abundantly,
not only promises but in reality. And, moreover,
a nobly born and most beautiful wife, worthy of being
wooed instead of herself wooing you, offers her hand to
your acceptance."
Whilst Auristella thus spoke, Periander regarded her so
attentively that he never moved his eye-lashes; he followed
her rapid discourse to discover whither her reasoning was
going to lead to; but soon going on, she relieved him from
his confusion, saying, "My brother! for by this name I
must call you, let your condition be what it may, I say that
Sinforosa adores you, and wishes to marry you. I say, that
she has immense riches and immense beauty; I say, immense,
for it is such that it can hardly be exaggerated; and
as far as I have seen, she is well-conditioned, of quick intellect,
and of manners discreet and modest. According
to present appearances, such an alliance would not come
amiss to you; we are far away from our native country;
you, persecuted by your brother, and I, by my hard fate.
As to our journey to Rome, the more we try to accomplish
it, the more do difficulties increase; my intentions are unchanged,
but I tremble, and I do not wish death to surprise
me amidst terror and danger; therefore I think of
ending my life in a religious house, and I wish you to
finish yours in prosperity."
Here Auristella ceased speaking, and began to shed such
floods of tears, that they contradicted and blotted out all
she had said. She drew her arms modestly out of the
coverlet, and turned her head to the opposite side from that
where Periander was; who seeing things at such an extremity,
and having heard her last words, remained without
power to speak or move; the sight left his eyes, his
breath failed, and he sunk upon his knees on the floor, his
head resting upon the bed. Auristella turned hers, and
seeing that he had fainted, she put her hand upon his face,
and bathed his cheeks with her tears, which fell drop by
drop without his being conscious of it.
CHAPTER V.
What passed between the King and his daughter Sinforosa.
There are in nature many things, of which
we do not know the cause. Some persons
have their teeth set on edge when they see
a loaf cut with a knife; sometimes a man
trembles at sight of a rat; I have seen
another shudder over the cutting of a radish: and others
leave the table, at a formal dinner, on seeing olives placed
upon it. Ask the cause? no one can tell it; and they who
fancy they can best solve the mystery, say, that the stars
have a certain antipathy with the temperature of the man,
inclining him to certain actions, fears, and aversions, touching
the before-mentioned things, and others similar that
occur every day. One of the definitions of man, is to say
that he is a laughing animal, for man only laughs, and no
other animal; and I think that we may also say, he is a
weeping animal—an animal that weeps.
It is lawful for a wise man to weep for three things.
For having committed a sin; when he asks pardon for it;
and for jealousy. No other tears suit the dignity of a
grave man.
Let us return then to the fainting Periander; and although
he weeps neither as a sinner nor as a penitent, he
sheds the tears of a jealous lover; but he lacks not one who
will both excuse his tears, and even wipe them away, as
Auristella did, who had thrown him into this condition
more from artifice than honestly meaning all she said. He
at length recovered his senses, and hearing steps in the apartment,
he turned his head and saw beside him Ricla and
Constance, who were come to visit Auristella. He seized
the opportunity of departing, not finding words wherewith
to answer his mistress, so he retired to consider the advice
she had given him.
Sinforosa, meanwhile, was longing to hear the sentence
that had been pronounced in the court of love, on the first
hearing of her suit; and she would, doubtless, have been
first to visit Auristella instead of Ricla and Constance, but
that she was prevented doing so, by receiving a message
from the king her father, who required her immediate presence.
She went to him, and found him alone. Polycarp
made her sit near him; and, after a few moments' silence,
in a low voice (as if he feared being overheard) he said,
"Daughter, although thy tender youth has probably kept
thee in ignorance of that passion which is called love;
and although my maturer age might well preserve me from
its jurisdiction, yet nature will sometimes deviate from
its regular course, lighting up the flame of love in the
bosom of a mere girl, and consuming with its blaze the
dry heart of the old man."
When Sinforosa heard her father speak thus, she never
doubted but that he knew her wishes, nevertheless she was
silent, not liking to interrupt him, until he should have
spoken more clearly; in the meantime her heart was beating
quickly. Her father went on, saying, "After I lost
your mother, O my daughter, I devoted myself to the study
of your gratification and comfort. I have done in all things
as you advised, and as you well know have hitherto preserved
strictly and carefully the state of widowhood, as
much for the sake of my own character as to keep the Catholic
faith which I profess; but since the arrival of these
new guests in our city, all the former regularity of my
mind has been disconcerted, and the steady course of my
life has been disturbed; and, finally, I have fallen from the
summit of my boasted discretion, to the very lowest abyss
of I know not what desires, which I must die of, if I keep
silence, and if I declare them I am disgraced. No longer
will I keep you in suspense, daughter, no longer will I be
silent. If you would hear further, know that I am dying
for love of Auristella; the rays of her bright beauty have
penetrated even to the depths of my dried-up heart. I
would wish, if it were possible, in giving to you and your
sister a step-mother, that her great merits should excuse
my so doing; if you agree with me, I care for nothing else
that will be said; and as to that, if people think me mad,
I will leave my kingdom, and reign only in the heart of
my Auristella. There would then be on earth no monarch
who could be compared to me. Now, daughter, it is my
wish that you should tell her of this, and learn from her
what is very important for me to know, (although I do
not believe she will make many difficulties,) whether her
prudence will esteem my station and authority enough
counterpoise to my age, and whether my riches may be set
against the difference of our years. It is a great thing to be
a queen; it is a great thing to command. Honours are
enjoyable things; and amusement and pleasure are not only
to be found in marriages where the ages are equal. In reward
for this embassy that I employ you in, I am thinking
of improving your own condition; if you are as wise as I
think you are, you will scarcely desire anything better.
Look you, now, there are four things which a person of
high rank requires; these are, a good wife, a good house,
a good horse, and good armour. The two first are equally
necessary for a woman, and even more so, for the wife does
not raise her husband, but the husband does raise the wife;
so, Auristella, let her be who she may, being my wife will
become a queen; and her brother, Periander, being my
brother-in-law, and I giving him to you as a husband, and
honouring him with the title of my brother, you will be
as great in being his wife, as in being my daughter."
"But," said Sinforosa, "how do you know, Sire, that
Periander is not already married, and even if he is not, that
he wishes to marry me?"
"I think," said the king, "that one may presume he is
unmarried, from his wandering life through foreign countries,
a thing incompatible with domestic life. That he
will love you, I feel assured, both from his well-known
sense and prudence, which will point out the advantages
of such an alliance; and since the beauty of his sister
makes her a queen, it would not be wonderful that yours
should make him wish to be your husband."
With these last words, and with this fair prospect, did
the king delight Sinforosa's fancy; thus gratifying all her
desires; and she, without crossing those of her father, promised
to undertake his negotiation of a marriage with Auristella,
and accepted the offer of the yet unnegotiated one
with Periander; only she said that it was best to be cautious
in giving him to her as a husband; for even if the
qualities of his mind equalled his valour, it would be as
well not to be too hasty till the experience of a few more
days should have confirmed their opinion; and yet at this
moment, to obtain him for a husband, she would have
given all she had or desired to have in the world; so in the
case of illustrious ladies, the tongue says one thing while
the heart feels another.
While this was passing between Polycarp and his daughter,
in another room a conversation was going on between
Rutilio and Clodio. "Look you, now, friend Rutilio,
what is this Arnoldo doing here, following Auristella like
her shadow, and leaving his country to the care of his old
father, who is nearly in his dotage—almost beside himself at
one moment, overwhelmed at another, weeping here, sighing
there, and bitterly complaining of the fate he himself
has worked out? What are we to think of this Auristella
and her brother; a pair of vagabonds, concealing their
birth, perhaps, to make it doubtful whether they may not
be of an illustrious family; for he who quits his country,
and goes where nobody knows him, may easily give himself
any parentage he pleases, and even if he be sufficiently
skilful may pretend to come from the sun or moon. I
don't deny that they are both worthy of being admired and
praised, but they may be this without prejudice to a third
person. Honour and praise are due to virtue, but not to
deceit and hypocrisy. Who can he be, this wrestler and
fencer, this runner and leaper, this Ganymede, this charmer,
who is bought here and sold there, who acts as an Argus to
the delicate Auristella, and will hardly let anybody look at
her too near? No one knows who they are, or whence
they came, or where they are going? But that which disturbs
me most of all is, that, by the eleven heavens, which
they say there are, I swear to you, Rutilio, I cannot persuade
myself they are brother and sister; even if they are,
I cannot divine why they are journeying about by sea and
land; they have nothing to spend but what comes out of
the wallets and sacks full of golden ingots that belong to
the barbarians, Ricla and Constance. It is true that the
diamond cross and the two pearls, which Auristella wears,
are an immense treasure, and of great value, but they are
not things to be changed or pledged by little and little. Then
to think that they always find kings to give them hospitality,
and princes to make favourites of them, as if they were
privileged ones! And then, Rutilio, what are we to think
of the fancies of Transila and of the father, who imagines
himself the first astrologer of the age? I would lay any
wager that Ladislaus would gladly be at home in his own
country, in peace and quiet, instead of being forced to live
upon the charity of others. And this our Spanish barbarian,
whose arrogance is so excessive, I would lay anything
that if Heaven should restore him to his own country he
would be a fine boaster, going about showing his wife and
children in their skin dresses, making plans and pictures of
the barbarous isle, and pointing out with a rod the place
where he was shut up for fourteen years; the dungeon of
the captives; and telling the whole history of the ridiculous
ideas and expectations of the barbarians, and the sudden
conflagration of their island. He would just do like
those who, when freed from Turkish slavery, carry their
chains on their backs, having got rid of them on their legs
and relate the tale of their misfortunes with piteous voices
and humble prayers for charity in Christian lands. But
this shows that although it appears as if they told us very
improbable things, yet that the human race is subject ever
to greater perils, and the histories that are related by exiles
however marvellous, are yet credible."
"To what does all this lead, O Clodio?" said Rutilio.
"I was going on to show thee, O Rutilio, that in these
regions thou canst not well avail thyself of thy profession
where the inhabitants neither dance nor enjoy any other
pastimes save such as Bacchus offers in his jocund cup and
wanton drinks: It seems to me, that having by the blessing
of Heaven and the courtesy of Arnoldo, escaped death
I would neither thank one nor the other, till I had tried to
amend my lot, although it should be at the price of displeasing
the latter. Friendship may endure between the
poor, for equality of fortune helps to link hearts together.
Between the rich and the poor friendship can never last,
there is too much difference between them."
"Thou art a philosopher, Clodio," said Rutilio, "but
I cannot imagine what means we can take to amend our lot,
as thou sayest, supposing it to have been bad from our birth.
I am not so learned as thou art, but I plainly see that those
who are born of lowly parentage, if Heaven does not sufficiently
aid them, very seldom rise to any very notable situation,
unless their own great virtue and merit assists them.
Now, how canst thou expect such assistance, if thine consists
chiefly in speaking ill of thy fellow men? and what is
to elevate me, when the utmost that I can do is to cut a
caper? I am a dancer; thou art a backbiter. I, condemned
to the gallows in my own country; thou, banished from
thine for evil speaking. How can we expect to improve
our condition?"
Clodio was silent, and paused before he replied; with
which pause the author ends this chapter of his history.
CHAPTER VI.
Sinforosa makes her Father's wishes known to Auristella.
Every one of our party had somebody with
whom to exchange confidential conversation—Polycarp
with his daughter; Clodio,
with Rutilio; but the astounded Periander
held converse with himself alone; for the
discourse that Auristella had held so bewildered him, that
he knew not where to turn for relief to the trouble of his
mind. "O Heaven!" he said to himself, "what can this
mean? Has she forgotten our agreement? Has she lost
her senses? Auristella, my betrothed wife? what have
I to do with Sinforosa? What kingdoms, what wealth
could make me leave my Sigismunda, unless I cease to be
Persiles?" As he uttered these words, he bit his lips, and
looked around to see that no one heard what he said, which
having ascertained, he went on, saying, "Doubtless, Auristella
is jealous, and the jealous can imagine anything,
and be jealous of the very wind that blows, the sun that
shines, the ground you tread upon. O lady mine, be
careful what you do; injure not your own worth, nor your
beauty, nor deprive me of the glory of my constancy, the
honesty and strength of which is weaving for me an inestimable
crown as a true lover. Beautiful, rich, and high-born
is Sinforosa; but, compared with you, she is ugly,
she is poor, she is low-born; consider, lady, that love is
engendered either by choice or destiny. The love which
is fated always comes to pass in its own time. That which
is from choice, may increase or diminish as the causes which
excited the affection increase or diminish; and this being
true, for true it is, I feel that my love for you has no bounds
wherewith to measure it, no words wherein to express it.
I may almost say, I have loved you since I was in the
swaddling clothes of my infancy. That proves it was my
destiny; but as I grew in years and in understanding, that
love grew also, with the qualities in you that made you so
loveable. I saw them, I contemplated them, I knew them,
and I engraved them upon my heart, and from your heart
and mine there was formed one, so single and united that it
can only be divided again by death. Talk no more, then,
my beloved one, of Sinforosas, nor offer to tempt me with
beauty, or wealth, or kingdoms. Still let the sweet name
of brother sound in mine ears; all that I am now saying to
myself I would fain say to you; but it would be impossible,
for the glances of those bright eyes, especially when
they are angry, disturb me and chain my tongue. It is
better to write, for the words will be the same and you can
read them over and over again, and ever find in them one
same truth, one constant faith, and an earnest desire to be
believed. I resolve then to write to you." And with this
determination he became calmer, and the more that he felt
he could better express his feelings by the pen than by
speech. We will leave Periander to write his letter, and go
to hear what passed between Auristella and Sinforosa, who
was longing to know what Periander had said, and therefore
sought to see her alone, and at the same time to break
to her her father's wishes; believing that they need only be
declared to be accepted, since riches and honours are rarely
despised especially by women, the greater number of whom
are by nature avaricious, as they are also for the most part
proud and haughty.
Auristella felt very little pleased to see Sinforosa, for she
did not well know what to say to her, not having seen Periander
again. However, Sinforosa before entering upon
her own affairs, wished to settle those of her father; imagining
that with these news, which she thought so calculated
to give her pleasure, she should have her on her side,
on which she thought her success would depend; so she
said, "Without a doubt, most beautiful Auristella, Heaven
favours you; for it appears to me that it would shower
prosperity upon your head. The king, my father, adores
you, and has told me to say, that he desires to take you for
his wife; and, as a recompense for the hoped for 'Yes!'
that I am to bring him, he has promised Periander to me
as a husband. You are already, lady, a queen, already is
Periander mine; already riches pour upon you; and, if
you do not object to the gray hairs of my father, you will
find pleasure in the authority you will have over the subjects
and vassals who will be eager to serve you. I have
told you much, dear lady, and much have I to expect at
your hands; for when a thing is of great value, one cannot
expect less than a great gratitude. Let us begin to consider
ourselves as two sisters-in-law, who love each other dearly,
and tell me now what your brother said in reply to what
you told him of me? I feel confident that the answer is
favourable, for it is natural that your words should be received
as oracles by him."
To all this Auristella answered, "My brother is grateful
as a gentleman, and discreet as a pilgrim, who has seen
and read much; and watched the ways of men. The sufferings
and troubles we have experienced have made us
know fully the value of quiet and repose; and since what
is now offered to our acceptance is such, I do not doubt
that we shall have to agree with it; but as yet Periander
has never said a word, nor do I know anything from him
that can either forward or depress your hopes. Allow him
time, O beautiful Sinforosa, and let us consider well these
offers; for although we quite appreciate their value, yet a
step that we can only take once, can never be retaken if it
happen to be an error. Marriage is one of these actions;
therefore it is desirable that we should consider it thoroughly
before resolving upon it. Go, I pray you, my
sister, and let Periander be sent for to me, for I could wish
to let him know this joyful news that you have just told
me, and take counsel with him how it will beseem me to
act; for I owe respect and obedience to him as an elder
brother."
Sinforosa made no reply, but embraced and left her, to
go and give orders that Periander should be sent for. He,
meanwhile, had been shut up alone and had taken his pen,
and after many beginnings and blottings out, and addings
to, he had at length completed a letter which ran thus:—
"Not daring to trust to words, I use the pen; not,
however, that I trust even to this, for how can he who is
momentarily in fear of death write anything to the purpose.
I have just learned that even the wise and prudent do not
always know how to give advice. Forgive me if I cannot
accept yours. It seems to me that either you do not know
me, or you have forgotten yourself. Be yourself again,
dear lady, and do not allow a vain emotion of jealousy to
transport you beyond the bounds of reason and the use of
your own fine understanding. Think well who you are,
and do not forget who I am. In yourself you will see the
epitome of all that is valuable or to be desired; and in me
all that can be conceived of true love and constancy.
Trusting in this, fear not that any other charms can inflame
my heart, nor believe that any other can come before
your virtue and beauty. Let us proceed on our journey,
let us fulfil our vow, and cast aside all fruitless jealousies
and baseless suspicions. With the more eagerness and
speed would I entreat you to leave this country, because it
seems to me that in quitting it I shall escape from the
purgatory of torment I now endure, and enter the glorious
heaven which will re-open for me, when I no longer see
you a prey to jealousy."
Thus wrote Periander, after having made six copies, and
folding the paper, he went out to see Auristella, having
received her message.
CHAPTER VII.
How Rutilio, being enamoured of Polycarpa, and Clodio of
Auristella, wrote Letters declaring their Love; Rutilio,
perceiving he has done wrong, burns his Letter without
showing it, but Clodio determines to present his to Auristella.
Rutilio and Clodio, the pair who were disposed
to try and mend their fortunes; one,
trusting to his abilities, and the other to his
impudence; thought themselves worthy of
aspiring, one to Polycarpa, the other to Auristella.
The sweet voice and lively air of Polycarpa
pleased Rutilio infinitely, and the peerless charms of Auristella
no less delighted Clodio.
They sought an opportunity to unfold their wishes
without getting into any scrape by the declaration, for
assuredly it was a bold thing for a low-born man to give
utterance to that which it was daring even to think of.
However, it does sometimes happen that the inclinations
of a high-born, though not virtuous lady, may embolden a
low-born man to declare his wishes; but certainly in the
present case, the boldness of these two gentlemen did not
spring from any encouragement or want of reserve on the
part of their ladies, spring whence they might. Rutilio at
last wrote a letter to Polycarpa, and Clodio to Auristella,
as follows:—
RUTILIO TO POLYCARPA.
"I am, lady, a foreigner; and, although I should tell
you my birth was illustrious, as I can bring no witnesses
to confirm it, possibly it might find no belief in your mind;
but as a proof that my family is noble, suffice it that I am
bold enough to tell you I adore you; ask what proofs you
please, to show the truth of this. It is for you to ask, for
me to give them. And since I desire to obtain you for
my wife, imagine that I desire according to what I am,
and that I deserve that which I desire; for noble minds
aspire to noble things. Let your eyes give an answer to
this letter; and by the mildness or severity of their glance,
I shall judge whether it is the sentence of death or life."
Rutilio put up this letter, intending to give it to Polycarpa
the first opportunity. He showed it, however first
to Clodio, and Clodio gave him the letter he had written
to Auristella, which ran thus:—
CLODIO TO AURISTELLA.
"Some persons are entangled in the chains of love by
the bait of beauty; others, by that of lively and pleasing
manners. Some, by the merit they discover in her who
has subdued them; but I have put my neck into the yoke,
and lost my freedom through compassion. It must indeed
have been a heart of stone, O beauteous lady, that felt not
pity in seeing you bought and sold and placed in such sad
circumstances that your last moment often seemed at hand.
The pitiless steel has threatened your throat; the flames
have reached even your very garment. The cold snow
has frozen you, and hunger has enfeebled and faded the
bloom upon your cheeks, and lastly the sea engulphed and
then cast you forth. What aid in all these sufferings have
you had unless it be the slight assistance of a wandering
prince, who follows you only for his own ends, or that
afforded by your brother, (if indeed he is such,) that can
relieve you from your miseries. Trust not lady, to distant
promises, but cling to succour which is near at hand, and
accept a means of safety which Heaven offers to you. I
am a bachelor; I have abilities that will avail me even in
the most remote corners of the world. I will form a plan
to remove you from this land, and the importunities of
Prince Arnoldo, and taking you from this Egyptian bondage,
will bring you into a land of promise—Spain, France,
or Italy (as I cannot live in England, my own dear and
beloved country). I here then offer to be your husband;
and from this moment I accept you as my bride."
Rutilio having read this letter, said, "Truly, I think
we have both lost our wits to suppose we can fly without
wings, our own pretensions being to crawl like the emmet.
In my opinion, Clodio, it will be best to destroy these letters,
for we are neither of us really in love, and only an
idle and absurd fancy has urged us to write in this way.
Love must have some foundation to rest upon, or it cannot
exist; failing this, it fails entirely. Now what have we
to expect for our pains but the rope to our necks, or the
knife to our throats, the more, because in this declaration
of love we are traitors as well as ingrates. Dost thou not
see the immense distance that exists between a dancing-master,
who mended his means by becoming apprentice to
a silversmith, and the daughter of a king? And that which
exists between a banished backbiter and one who refuses
and scorns a crown? Let us forget our folly, and repent
that necessity should have brought us to such a pass. At
any rate, this letter of mine shall go into the fire, or be cast
to the winds ere it reaches Polycarpa."
"You may do as you please with your's," answered
Clodio; "as for mine, whether I give it to Auristella or
not, I intend to keep it as a sample of my cleverness; but
I doubt if I do not give it to her that I shall find my conscience
reproach me during the rest of my life for having
repented; it does not always follow that when one makes
an attempt one is to be punished for it."
This conversation passed between our two pretended
lovers, but in fact impudent knaves. In the meantime Periander
had succeeded in having a private interview with
his Auristella. He entered her room intending to give her
the letter he had written, but when he saw her, forgetting
all the discourses and exculpations, which he had prepared,
he said, "Lady, look at me, am not I Periander, who was
Persiles; and am I not that Periander whom you loved?
Can anything untie the knot that binds us two together
but death? and if it be so, what can you mean by giving
me advice so much against truth? By the bright heaven
above us, and by thine own brighter self, I implore thee
to name Sinforosa no more, nor imagine that either her
beauty or her riches can avail to make me forget thee and
thy incomparable charms both of body and soul. This
body of mine, which only breathes for thee, I once again
offer to thee, although not possessing more advantages now
than when I first offered it to thy acceptance. Try to recover
your health, dearest lady, that we may quit this
country, and I will try to contrive that we may pursue our
journey; for although Rome is the Heaven upon earth,
still it is not in the skies; and neither danger nor suffering
shall prevent us from reaching it at last, however we may
be delayed in doing so."
Whilst Periander was speaking, Auristella was regarding
him with tenderness, and with tears of mingled compassion
and jealous feeling; but, finally, his lover-like pleading and
the truth that shone through every word, had their effect
upon her jealous spirit, and she answered in a few words,
thus; "I do believe thee, beloved one, and have nothing
to desire but that thou wilt as speedily as may be take me
from this place. In another land I may hope to recover
from the fever of jealousy that has confined me to this bed."
"If," said Periander, "I had given the smallest cause
for your thus suffering, I would patiently hear your complaints,
and you would find in my exculpations a remedy
for your sorrows; but as I have never offended you in anything,
I know not how to excuse myself. But I will hasten
to do as you require, and we will leave this country as
soon as possible."
"Would you know something that concerns you nearly?"
she replied. "Then hear the flattering offers which I have
just received, the least of which is a kingdom. Polycarp,
the king, wishes to have me for a wife; he sent to tell me
this by his daughter, Sinforosa, and she hopes through my
good offices (I being her mother-in-law) to obtain you as
a husband. You know best whether this can be. If we are
in any danger, think well over it, and take what remedies
you think proper for the case: and pardon me for those
doubts and suspicions whereby I have offended you; love
will excuse such faults as these."
"It is said," answered Periander, "that love cannot
exist without jealousy, and jealousy is often caused by the
most trivial things. All I ask of you, and which you owe
to an understanding like yours, is, that henceforth you should
view my conduct with more candid and less punctilious
eyes, (with eyes more beautiful would be impossible,) but
not making of any small fault of mine, small as a grain of
mustard-seed, a mountain which reaches the skies, from
which jealous fancies spring; and for the rest, use your own
judgment in dealing with the king and Sinforosa, and do
not offend her, but feign to give hopes that may lead them
to expect what they desire. And now I will leave you,
that our long interview may not lead to any suspicion."
So saying, Periander departed, and in leaving the room he
met Clodio and Rutilio. Rutilio had just torn up the letter
he had written to Polycarpa, and Clodio had folded up
his and put it into his breast. Rutilio had repented of his
folly, but Clodio was satisfied with his own cleverness and
proud of his boldness: however, the time will come when he
would gladly give half his life (supposing a life to be divideable)
not to have written that letter.
CHAPTER VIII.
What passed between Auristella and Sinforosa. All the
Strangers resolve to quit the Island.
King Polycarp greatly enlivened by his amorous
intentions, and quite confident and secure
as to what Auristella's decision would
be, set himself already to plan the festivals
and rejoicings, which should celebrate the
approaching wedding; in all which he never paused to consider
the great disparity between his age and the intended
bride's—the enormous distance of seventeen years and
seventy; and even had he been sixty, the difference would
still have been too great. Thus are even the wisest of men
led away by the follies that love leads them into. Thus,
are they who have not power to resist their amorous inclinations,
subdued and carried away by the soft influence of
the tender passion. Quite different was the case of Sinforosa,
who felt no ways certain of what her fate would be;
for, as is most natural, they who hope much, fear much;
and those things which might have given weight to her
hopes, such as her beauty, rank and station, and great merits,
she considered as nothing, for it is a peculiar property
of true love to make its votaries fearful that they are not
worthy of the beloved object. Love and fear are so coupled
together, that one is always to be found with the other;
and true love is not arrogant, as some say, but humble,
timid and retiring; and the more precious and inestimable
is the thing beloved, the more does the lover tremble, lest
by some fault of his own he should lose it. The fair Sinforosa
considered all this quite differently from her father,
and agitated between hope and fear, she went to seek Auristella,
and learn from her what she had to expect. When
she found herself with Auristella, and alone, as she desired
to be, so anxious was she to know whether the tidings she
had to impart were good or bad, that without uttering a
single word, she fixed her eyes earnestly on her face, in
order to discover there, the verdict of life or death. Auristella
understood her meaning, and half-smiling, as if in
token of encouragement, she said, "Although, lady, it
does not seem that fear need put an axe to the root of your
tree of hope, to cut it down; yet true it is that both your
happiness and mine will have to be delayed some time,
though it may at last come to pass; for there are certain
impediments in the way of your desires, but not enough
to make you despair of ever attaining them. My brother
says, that such is your merit and beauty, they must perforce
win the love of any man, and he is very sensible and grateful
for the preference you honour him with, and for your
wish to become his wife; but before this desirable event
can be realized, it will be necessary to deprive the Prince
Arnoldo of his hopes of obtaining me as his wife, and without
doubt, this must be done if you should marry my brother;
for you must know, my sister, that I can no more
exist apart from Periander than can a body exist without a
soul. Where he dwells, there must I too dwell; he is the
spirit that animates me—and this being so, if he marries in
this country, how could I live in Arnoldo's land, and my
brother absent?
"Now, to escape this misfortune that threatens me, it
is settled that we are to go with him to his kingdom, and
from thence we shall ask leave to go to Rome, for the performance
of a vow, to fulfil which, brought us from our
own country, and I well know by experience that he will
refuse me nothing I desire. Once at liberty, it will be
easy to return to this island, and, by cheating his hopes,
accomplish our own; I, marrying your father, and you,
my brother."
To which Sinforosa answered, "How shall I thank
you sufficiently, sweet sister, for all you have said; and so
I will leave it as it stands, for I know not how to express
myself. But what I would now wish to say, you must
take more as a warning than a counsel; you are at present
in this country, where my father rules, and he both can
and will defend you from the whole world; and I do not
think it would be well to place your safety in doubt.
Would it not be very possible for Arnoldo to carry both
you and your brother off by force; and is it not indispensable,
if you agree to my father's wishes, that he should retain
you in his own kingdom and house? Only give me
the assurance that you willingly become my father's wife,
and that your brother disdains not to be my lord and husband;
and I will speedily smooth away all the difficulties
that can possibly arise on Arnoldo's part."
To which Auristella answered, "Prudent men look to
the future as well as to the present and the past. To inculpate
your father in any forcible act of detention, would
awaken the wrath of Prince Arnoldo, and he is a powerful
prince, at least as great as your father; and a deceived
and disappointed monarch soon thinks of vengeance, and thus
instead of your gaining comfort by allying yourselves with
us, we should only bring you evil, involving your country
in war: and if you tell me that this will happen the same
afterwards, whether we remain now or return later, reflect
that Heaven never sends misfortunes without in time also
offering a remedy. Therefore I am of opinion that we go
with Arnoldo, and that you discreetly and prudently solicit
our departure, and in so doing you will shorten our
absence, and hasten our return; and here, if it be not so
large a country as Arnoldo's, we may at least hope to enjoy
peace and quiet more securely—I, with your venerable
and wise father, and you with my good and handsome
brother, without dividing us."
Sinforosa, on hearing her speak thus, quite beside herself
with joy, flung her arms round Auristella's neck, kissing
her on the lips and eyes. At this instant, the two seeming
barbarians, Antonio and his son, with Ricla and Constance,
entered the room; and immediately after, Maurice, Ladislaus
and Transila followed, all wishing to see and speak
to Auristella, and learn what had caused her illness.
Sinforosa took leave, more joyful and even more deceived
than when she came. They who love, readily believe and
catch at even the shadow of a promise of what they wish.
After exchanging with Auristella the usual questions and
answers that pass between invalids and their visitors,
Maurice said, "If even the very beggar, when banished
from his native land, where he leaves nothing but the soil
whereon he trod, feels regret, what must they suffer who
have left behind all that fortune could promise? I say
this, lady, because I am old and rapidly approaching my
latter end, which makes me wish earnestly to return home
to my own country, where I have friends and kindred
who will close my eyes, and pay the last honours to my
remains. To attain this desirable end concerns us all
equally, for we are all foreigners and exiles, and all of us,
I imagine, find a charm in our own country we do not
meet with in any other. If you, lady, will solicit the king
to assist our departure, or at least agree that we shall try to
effect it, it will be well; we cannot bear to think of leaving
you, for such is the power of your rare beauty and
great prudence that we consider you as the loadstone attracting
us all."
"At least," said the elder Antonio, "I can answer for
myself, for my wife and children, that we would rather
lose our lives than the company of the lady, if she does not
disdain ours."
"I thank you, gentlemen," replied Auristella, "for the
obliging things you are pleased to say; and although I can
not respond to them as I ought, yet I will try all that I can
to carry your wishes into effect, both with the prince Arnoldo
and my brother, if my health, which is already improving,
does not prevent me. Till then the happy day
of our departure arrives, cheer up your hearts, do not give
way to melancholy, nor trouble yourself with the thought
of sorrow to come, for since Heaven has carried us through
such great dangers, let us trust it will restore us to our beloved
homes without encountering more, for those evils
that are not sufficient to destroy life, ought not to destroy
our patience." They all admired Auristella's answer, which
showed her admirable wisdom and the piety of her soul,
but at this moment, entered King Polycarp in high good
humour, having learnt from his daughter the flattering result
of her communications; with him came Arnoldo and
Periander. The King felicitated Auristella on her amended
health, and informed her that in token of the joy all felt at
this happy news, there were to be illuminations in the city,
and festivities and rejoicings for a week together.
Periander acknowledged the compliment as a brother
should, and Arnoldo as a lover and intended husband.
Polycarp laughed in his sleeve as he thought how finely he
had deceived Prince Arnoldo, who, charmed with Auristella's
amendment, and little dreaming of the designs of the
king, only sought how he could effect soonest a means of
departure from the city, since the longer this departure
was delayed the longer was delayed the accomplishment of
his hopes. Maurice, hoping to return to his native country,
had recourse to his science, and there learnt that great difficulties
would impede the departure. He consulted with
Periander and Arnoldo, who were both made acquainted
with the wishes and intentions of the king and princess,
which gave them much anxiety, knowing how many difficulties
must arise from this mighty passion having got
hold of such great personages, since they well knew that
in these cases all sense of justice and generosity yields to
the one overpowering feeling, and that neither promises
nor words are to be trusted. The three then agreed that
Maurice should hire a vessel from among the number now
in the harbour, to convey them secretly to England, and
that they should not appear to suspect the intentions of
Polycarp. All this was communicated to Auristella, who
approved of it, and was anxious to regain her health for
her own and all their sakes.
CHAPTER IX.
Clodio gives his letter to Auristella, and is killed by the
younger Antonio in a mistake.
Our history goes on to relate, that the insolence,
or rather one should say, the shamelessness
of Clodio, rose to such a height that
he had the boldness to place the letter he
had written in Auristella's hands, deceiving
her into the belief that it contained some devout verses,
worthy of her perusal and admiration. She opened the
letter, and curiosity impelled her to read it to the end. As
she was about to close it, her eyes fell upon Clodio, but instead
of the love-darting beams that they usually emitted,
they now shot forth sparks of angry fire, as she exclaimed,
"Hence, and quit my presence, accursed and shameless
man, and if I could believe this madness on thy part had
been caused by any conduct of mine—if it had been produced
by any incautious act or word of mine derogatory to
my honour and character, I would chastise myself for this
thy insolence, which will not go unpunished, unless I
should take pity and treat thee as a madman."
Clodio was surprised, and would now have given half
his life not to have been so daring. A thousand terrors oppressed
his spirit, and he saw that his life would not be
worth much, if Arnoldo or Periander came to know what
he had done. He cast down his eyes, and quite crestfallen,
he turned his back upon Auristella, and left her alone
to conjure up a new and not unreasonable fear, which was
that Clodio, rendered desperate, might turn traitor, and
profit by the intentions of Polycarp, if he should chance to
learn what they were. She resolved, therefore, to make
Arnoldo and Periander acquainted with the whole story.
In the meanwhile it happened that the boy Antonio,
being in his room alone, a woman entered. She was about
forty years of age, but there was a vivacity in her air that
might make her pass for ten years younger. She was drest,
not according to the fashion of the country they were in,
but after the Spanish mode; and Antonio, although he was
ignorant of any customs but those of the barbarous isle, saw
at once she was a stranger in this place. He arose from his
seat to receive her courteously, for though a barbarian he
had been well brought up. The lady, after fixing her eyes
intently on his countenance for some time, spoke thus—"It
probably may seem strange to thee, O young man, to
see me here, since thou art doubtless unaccustomed to receive
visits from ladies, having as I am told been educated
in a barbarous island, not amongst barbarians but amongst
rocks and stones, from whence, as thou hast derived thy
beauty, so also mayst thou have imbibed from them hardness
of heart, which may, I dread, prove contrary to my
wishes. Fear not, have no suspicions, and do not be
alarmed; I am not saying anything very monstrous, but
that which accords with our human nature. Thou dost
perceive that I speak the Spanish tongue, the language
which thou speakest, which similarity should engender
friendship between us. I am called Zenotia, and am a
native of Spain, born and bred in Alhama, a city of the
kingdom of Grenada; my name is well-known there, and
throughout all Spain, for my renown is so great that it cannot
remain in obscurity. It is four years since I left my native
land, flying from the vigilance of those watchful mastiff
dogs, who there keep guard over the Catholic flock. My
race is descended from Hagar, my religion is that of Zoroaster.
Behold yonder sun, now shining upon us; if thou
wouldst desire to see a sign of the power I possess, wish
that those beams may be obscured, and I will instantly
command thick clouds to cover them and a dark night to
succeed to this brightness; or wouldst thou see the earth
tremble, the winds blow, the ocean rage, mountains bow
down, and wild beasts howl, or any other terrible signs representing
the primæval chaos; only speak the word and it
shall be done. Further, know, that in the city of Alhama
there has always lived a woman of my race, who with the
name of Zenotia has inherited the knowledge which makes
us witches, as men call us, but we are in truth enchantresses
or magicians, names more appropriate; witches
never do anything that is of use or profit, and they exercise
their tricks upon small trifles. They play with that
they understand not; and if sometimes things turn out as
they pretend, it is not by virtue of their art, but that God
permits the Evil One to deceive them as their punishment;
but we who bear the name of enchantresses and
magicians are persons of a higher quality. We read the
stars, contemplate the position of the heavens, know the
virtue of all plants and herbs, of stones and words, and,
joining the active to the passive, we seem to work miracles
whereat men wonder—and hence our good and evil fame;
good, if we work for good; evil, if we do ill with our
knowledge; and as human nature is more prone to evil
than to good, we do not always restrain our inclinations
within proper bounds; who shall say that the angry spirit
will not be led sometimes to avenge an affront? who will
say that slighted lovers would not if it were possible,
make themselves beloved where they were abhorred? for
as to changing the natural disposition, and oversetting or
counteracting the free-will, this is what no science can do,
no virtue of herb or drug effect."
Antonio listened to all the Spanish lady said with wonder
and curiosity to know how it would end. She went
on thus, "Finally, O most discreet barbarian, I would
have thee understand that it was the persecution of those
who are called Inquisitors in Spain that tore me from my
native land; for when one is driven away by force one
may call it being as it were torn up by the roots. I came to
this island through many perils and strange adventures, I
became known to the predecessor of King Polycarp, performed
some wonderful deeds, whereby I greatly amazed
the people, and so well did my art avail me, that I became
the possessor of great wealth; contented with my gains, I
have lived a chaste and virtuous life, and might have continued
to do so, had not my good, or it may be evil fortune
brought thee hither. My destiny is in thy hands, if I am
not fair in thine eyes, I will so contrive that thou shalt
think me so. If the gold I offer thee be too little, thou
hast but to say what thou wouldst desire, and I will satisfy
thee. For thy use I will fetch the pearls of the ocean;
the birds of the air I will tame to come at thy bidding.
From the secret abysses of the earth I will bring the most
precious things for thee. I will make thee invincible;
feared in war, mild in peace. Thou shalt be the envy of
all, and have nothing to wish for. In return for all this, I
ask not to be thy wife, but thy slave; so shall I be most
happy. Be pleased, O noble youth, to give me thy hand,
in token that thou wilt agree to my desire." So saying,
she rose and advanced as if to embrace him; Antonio,
seeing this, confused and alarmed, hastily retreated a step
or two, and snatched the bow that never was far from him;
fitting an arrow to it, he aimed straight at Zenotia, who,
on perceiving the threatening attitude of the boy, bent her
body quickly, and avoided the dart that was directed at her
heart. It flew, however, and not in vain; for at that instant
the unfortunate Clodio entered the room, it pierced
through mouth and tongue; thus fearfully punishing the
very member with which he had most offended. He died
without uttering a word. Zenotia turned her head, and
saw the mortal blow struck; in terror lest a second arrow
should follow, she fled precipitately without staying to avail
herself of her boasted power, with, however, a full intention
of revenging herself upon the cruel and hard-hearted
boy.
CHAPTER X.
How the younger Antonio fell sick.
Antonio remained not very well satisfied
with himself for the deed he had done, for although
assuredly a mistaken one, as he knew
nothing of Clodio's faults, and did know
and see very clearly that Zenotia was a
witch, he was inclined to regret that his aim had not been
more sure. He went up to Clodio, to ascertain whether
he was really dead, or if any life remained: but saw that
he was beyond help in this world.
At this instant his father entered the room, and seeing
the blood, and the dead body of Clodio, he knew at once
by the arrow that it was his son's work. He asked if it
were so; and was answered, Yes! he inquired the cause,
and was told it.
Astonished and indignant, he cried, "Savage Boy! if
thus thou treatest those who love thee, what wilt thou not
do towards thy enemies?"
The young Antonio listened with downcast eyes, abashed
and penitent. "I knew not what I did," he answered,
"and it grieves me sorely to have committed this deed.
I will try to amend my ways in future, and not prove myself
a barbarian, even when I fancy I am seeking to be virtuous
and resisting the temptations of the evil one."
They then took measures about burying Clodio, and
paying all possible respect to his remains. The news of
his death was soon spread through the palace by Zenotia,
although she concealed her share in it; but she declared
that the young barbarian had slain Clodio, no one knew
why.
It reached the ears of Auristella, who still held Clodio's
letter in her hand, with the intention of showing it to Periander
or Arnoldo, in order that he might be chastised for
his boldness; but seeing that Heaven had sent the punishment
by other hands, she tore the letter, and thought it
best to let the errors of the dead remain hidden from sight,
which was both a prudent and a Christian measure.
Although Polycarp was much disturbed at the accident,
he would not investigate the deed, but placed it in the
hands of the Prince Arnoldo, who at the entreaty of Auristella
and Transila, pardoned Antonio, and sent orders to
have Clodio buried, believing the story to be true which
Antonio told; but he concealed Zenotia's share in the catastrophe,
that he might not act entirely a barbarian's part.
Thus the rumour died away; Clodio was buried; Auristella
avenged, if indeed her gentle bosom had ever nourished
thoughts of vengeance, as did Zenotia's, who was
eagerly considering within herself how she might avenge the
wrongs inflicted by the hard-hearted archer.
In the course of two or three days he began to feel ill
and to droop. He then took to his bed, and declined so
rapidly, that the physicians said he would certainly die,
and that they could not discover the cause of his illness.
His mother, Ricla, wept; his father was full of grief. Auristella
and Maurice sorrowed much; Ladislaus and Transila
were equally afflicted. Seeing this, Polycarp sent for
his adviser and confidante, Zenotia, and desired that she
would try and find some remedy for Antonio's malady,
since it seemed beyond the physician's skill. She gave him
good hopes, assuring him that it would not be mortal, but
that the cure would be a slow one. Polycarp believed her
like an oracle.
Now all these events disturbed Sinforosa very little,
seeing that they were a means of detaining Periander; his
presence alone was a relief to her full heart; for, although
she wished him to go, because unless he went he could not
return to her, yet so great was the delight she took in looking
upon him, that she could not bear to think of his departure.
It so happened that an opportunity offered itself, when
Polycarp and his two daughters, Arnoldo, Periander and
Auristella, and all their company, including Rutilio (who,
ever since he wrote the letter to Polycarpa, although he
had destroyed it, yet continued melancholy and thoughtful as
much as if all who were around him had known of his folly).
This company, I say, met in the sick room of young Antonio,
having come to visit him by Auristella's desire, for she
loved and esteemed him and his parents, and was grateful
for the aid the young barbarian had given when he saved
them from the fire, and took them to his father's dwelling;
for in misfortune and danger friendships are more firmly
knit, than in common every day life; and a very warm one
had sprung up between her and Ricla, in whose company
she had been so long, and also for Constance and the two
Antonios.
Being then assembled, as I have already said, Sinforosa
coaxingly asked Periander if he would relate some of the
passages of his life to them; most especially she longed to
know from whence he came the first time that he visited
their island, when he carried off all the prizes, at all the
games that were played and the feats that were performed,
at the festival which commemorated the anniversary of the
election of her royal father.
To this Periander answered, that he would do as she
desired, if he might be permitted to begin his history where
he pleased, and not from the beginning; for this he could
reveal to no one, until he should be with his sister Auristella
safe at Rome. They all said that he might do according
to his own pleasure; they should hear gladly anything
he had to tell them; and the best pleased of all was Prince
Arnoldo, thinking that he might possibly now discover
who he was, from what Periander would relate. These
preliminaries settled, Periander spoke in the following
manner.
CHAPTER XI.
Periander relates the Events of his Voyage.
"If you desire, sirs, to know the preamble and
beginning of my story, I would tell it thus:
Imagine me and my sister, with an old nurse
of her's, on board a ship, the master of
which, instead of being, as he seemed, a
merchant, was a notorious pirate. We coasted the shores
of an island, that is, we were so near it that we could
clearly distinguish, not only the trees that grew on it, but
the various kinds. My sister, who was tired of having
been at sea many days, wished to land by way of refreshing
herself. She asked the captain's permission, and as her
requests are always held to be commands, he agreed that
she should be allowed to do so; and they landed us in the
ship's smallest boat—my sister, myself, and Clelia, which
was her nurse's name, with only a single sailor. When
we approached the shore, we saw that a little river fell into
the sea, paying its humble tribute thereto. On either bank
grew a quantity of verdant and leafy trees, affording shade,
to which the crystal waters served as a mirror. We desired
the sailor to steer for this place, as the spot looked
inviting. He did so, and we began to work up the river;
having lost sight of the ship, throwing down his oars, he
stopped short, and said, 'Look you, Sir, and consider this
small boat, which we have taken away to-day, as your
vessel; for you will not return to that which is awaiting
you in the sea, unless you wish to endanger the safety of
this lady and your own life.' He then told me how the
captain had intended to kill me, and carry off my sister;
that till we could remedy our situation, he would follow
and accompany us wherever we might go, happen what
might. Let him who meets with evil where he expects
kindness, judge whether or no we were disturbed at hearing
this. His counsel pleased us, and we promised to reward
him when we should be once more in safety. 'It will be
in our power,' said Clelia, 'for I have my lady's jewels
with me.' Then all four of us took counsel together as to
what was to be done. The sailor recommended that we
should go further up the little river, and we might perhaps
discover some place in which we could be protected, if perchance
any of those who belonged to the ship should come
in search of us. 'But they will not come,' said he, 'for
the inhabitants of these isles think every ship that comes
near their coasts is a corsair; and if they see a ship or
ships, immediately fly to arms to defend themselves. Therefore,
unless it be a secret attempt by night, we need not
fear any attack from the ship yonder.' What he said seemed
good to me. I took an oar and helped him in his work;
we had gone about a couple of miles up the stream when
our ears were saluted by the sound of many and divers instruments,
and our eyes beheld a forest of moving trees,
which seemed to cross from one bank to the other. When
we came nearer we found that these were boats covered
with branches of trees which had deceived us, and that the
music proceeded from the persons who were in the boats.
The moment they perceived us, they came up and surrounded
our boat; my sister rose up, with her beautiful
hair falling down her shoulders, confined only on the forehead
by a sort of lion-coloured ribbon or band. This sudden
apparition was so divinely beautiful, that, as we afterwards
learnt, the people in the boats took her for a divinity,
for the sailor heard them saying to one another, 'Who can
this be? what goddess can it be who deigns to visit us, and
bring a blessing upon the nuptials of the fisherman Carino
and the peerless Silviana?' They then entreated that we
would leave our boat and come ashore, not far from the
place where we at first met them.
"Hardly had we set foot on dry land, when a troop of
fishermen, as their dress showed them to be, crowded
around us, and one by one full of respect and admiration,
came to kiss the hem of Auristella's garment; who, in spite
of her terror, looked so divinely lovely, that I could scarcely
wonder at the mistake of those who took her for a goddess.
Not far from the river's bank there was a bower formed
of thick juniper boughs; and sweet smelling flowers served
as a carpet. At the same instant, two men and two women
rose up from their seats in the bower—the latter were
young girls, the former youths; one of the girls extremely
beautiful, and the other extremely ugly. One of the young
men, handsome and gay, the other of plain appearance.
All four came and knelt down before Auristella; and the
handsome youth said, 'O thou, whoever thou art, that
canst only be of heavenly birth, my brother and I, with all
our hearts, thank thee for the favour thou hast shown to
us, in honouring our poor (but henceforth rich) marriages.
Come, lady, and if, instead of the crystal palaces which
thou hast left in the depths of the sea, thou findest only
roofs of shells, and walls of osiers, or rather, I should say,
walls of shells and roofs of osiers, in our huts; yet wilt thou
meet with golden wishes and pearl-like dispositions to serve
thee; and I make this comparison, which perhaps sounds
strange, because, what is there richer and better than gold—what
more beautiful than pearls?' Auristella bent down
graciously to salute him; and by her gravity, courtesy, and
beauty, she confirmed his notion of her being a deity.
"The other fisherman, and the least good-looking of the
two, then left them to give directions that all the instruments
of music should sound, and all voices be raised in
praise of the newly-arrived stranger. The two damsels
came and humbly kissed Auristella's hand, and she embraced
them with great kindness.
"The sailor who had come with us, well pleased with
this event, told the fishermen, about the ship which lay out
in the offing, saying that the crew were corsairs; and that
we feared lest they should gain possession of the lady who
they saw there, and who was the daughter of a king. This
story he judged it best to tell, in order to incline their
hearts to defend her. They no sooner heard this than the
sounds of rejoicing music ceased, and the warlike instruments
which succeeded, seemed like a cry 'to arms, to
arms,' on either shore.
"Night now came on; we took refuge in the cabin of
the newly-betrothed lovers. Sentinels were posted along
the banks of the river, even as far as its mouth. The nets
were cast in, the baskets baited, all with a view of regaling
us, their new guests; and the more to show us honour and
respect, the betrothed couples put off the solemnization of
their marriage, leaving their cabins to Auristella and Clelia,
and to the two brides; whilst they and their friends, with
the sailor and myself, kept watch and guard over them.
There was more than sufficient light in the sky, and also
that afforded by the rising moon; and all around, the bonfires
were still blazing, that had been lighted for the rejoicings
over the wedding festival. It was resolved that
the men should sup in the open air, the women in the cabins;
so abundant was the food, that it seemed as if earth
desired to surpass ocean, and ocean, earth—the one offering
its flesh, the other its fish.
"Supper ended, Carino took me by the hand, and walking
with me along the river side, after manifesting various
signs of an impassioned heart, with convulsive sighs he
thus spoke: 'It surely must be by some miracle that thou
hast been brought hither at this time and conjuncture, so as
to delay my nuptials, and I feel as a certainty that my
woes may find a cure through thy counsels. Therefore, although,
doubtless, thou wilt deem me mad, or at least a
person of singularly bad taste; yet, I wish thee to know
that of the two fisher maidens whom thou sawest, the one
ugly, the other beautiful, it has fallen to my lot to have the
beautiful one for my wife, whose name is Silviana. I
know not what thou wilt say, nor do I know how to account
for my choice, but I adore Leoncia, the ugly maiden,
beyond the power of doing otherwise; and I would have
thee know that in my eyes, Leoncia from her many virtues
is the loveliest of women. Moreover Solercio, the other
bridegroom, is, I more than suspect, dying for Silviana.
Thus are the inclinations of all four crossed, and this because
we all desired to obey our parents and friends, who
arranged the marriages for us; but I cannot think it reasonable
for a man to consent that a burthen, which must
endure for life, should be fixed upon his shoulders not by
his own choice but for the pleasure of others. And although
this very day we were to have given our consent
and pronounced the 'Yes!' which was to enslave us for
ever, it has been prevented, not designedly, but by the interposition
of Providence, for such I believe thy coming has
been, so that there is still time left for our fortunes to
amend, and for this I ask thy advice. Being an impartial
stranger, thou mayst best counsel me; for I have resolved,
if I can discover no means of escape or remedy for my ills,
to quit this place and never return to it, whilst life lasts,
or parents vex, relations annoy, and friends fatigue me.
"I listened to him with attention, and instantly a remedy
came into my head, and these words to my tongue,
'No, my friend, do not go away, at least till I have spoken
to my sister, Auristella, the beautiful lady whom you have
seen; her wisdom is such that you would almost deem her
superhuman in mind as well as person.'
"We then returned to the huts, and told my sister all
that the fisherman had said. She readily devised a means
of making my words true, and of satisfying every one. She
took Silviana and Leoncia aside, and said to them, 'Know,
my friends, that to-day you will become more truly such
than ever, for Heaven has endowed me with a clear and
sharp penetration, so that by only looking into the countenance
of a person, I read their inmost soul, and guess their
thoughts. As a proof of this, I here call you both to witness—you,
Leoncia, love Carino, and you Silviana, sigh for
Solercio; maiden bashfulness keeps you dumb, but my
tongue shall break your silence. Say nothing, but leave all
to me; either I know nothing, or I promise you a happy
end to your secret wishes.'
"They answered not a single word, but covered her
hands with kisses innumerable, and closely embracing her,
proved how truly she had divined the real state of their affections.
"Night passed away, and day dawned rejoicingly. All
the fishing boats appeared decked with fresh green boughs,
music again filled the air with merry sounds, and there
arose from many voices gay and lively songs, in honour of
the day. The bridegrooms went forth to place themselves
in the bridal bower, where we had found them on the preceding
day. Silviana and Leoncia, were again arrayed in
their bridal attire; my sister adorned herself in the best
manner she was able with the garments she had, and she
placed a diamond cross upon her lovely breast, and pearls
in her ears, jewels of inestimable value. Then taking the
two brides by the hand, and placing them in the centre of
the bower, she called Carino and Solercio to draw near.
Carino approached, confused and trembling, not knowing
what I had arranged about his wishes, and the priest being
ready to join their hands, according to the Catholic ritual,
my sister made a sign that she wished to be heard; and
instantly there was a silence so profound that not a breath
stirred. Seeing, then, that every one lent a willing ear, she
said, in a loud and sonorous voice, 'This is the will of
Heaven'—and taking Silviana by the hand, she gave her
to Solercio; then she took the hand of Leoncia, and gave
her to Carino. 'This, my friends,' she continued, 'is
what Heaven has ordained, as I said before, and is not mere
accidental caprice, but suits well the happy betrothed ones,
as you may plainly see by their joyful countenances, and
the willing 'Yes!' that their tongues pronounce.' The
lovers embraced each other; seeing which, the spectators
approved the exchange, and were more than ever confirmed
in the idea of my sister's supernatural qualities, now that
by her command alone, the nearly completed marriages had
been thus altered.
Periander was thus speaking, when suddenly Antonio,
the sick youth, fell into a deep swoon. At this sight his
father, as if he had divined the cause, left the room, and
went, as will be afterwards seen, to seek Zenotia: what
followed will be told in the next chapter.
FOOTNOTES:
[F] Here follows a long description of the boat races and amusements,
which I omit.
CHAPTER XII.
How Zenotia left off the Sorceries that had bewitched Antonio,
so that he might recover; but advised King Polycarp
not to let Arnoldo and his companions go.
It appears to me that unless patience had been
supported by the pleasure which Arnoldo
and Polycarp had in only looking at Auristella,
and Sinforosa in gazing upon Periander,
they must have lost it in listening to
so tedious a story, touching which Maurice and Ladislaus
were of opinion, that it was much too long and very little
to the purpose, for instead of a narration of his own misfortunes,
he had been detailing the pleasures of other people.
Nevertheless, they liked to listen to him, and were willing
to hear his tale to an end, so agreeable was his manner and
style in relating anything.
Meanwhile Antonio had sought out Zenotia, whom he
found in the royal apartments. The moment he saw her he
approached with an unsheathed dagger in his hand, and
seizing her by the right arm, and lifting his dagger on
high, he cried, "Sorceress! instantly restore my son to
me alive and well, or thy last hour is at hand. Perfidious
creature! in what collection of eyeless needles, or headless
pins, dost thou hold his life enwrapped; or hast thou hidden
it in some nook or secret corner thou only knowest
where?" Zenotia was terrified, seeing her life threatened
by a furious Spaniard, with a dagger drawn in his hand,
and trembling, she promised to restore life and health to his
son. She would have readily promised to give it to the
whole world, had he required it of her, so completely had
he filled her whole soul with terror; so she said, "Loose
me, O Spaniard, and put thy weapon into its sheath; it
was owing to thy son's over-readiness to use his, that has
brought him into his present state. Thou knowest that
women are naturally revengeful, and most when we are
aroused to vengeance by scorn and disdain. Marvel not, then,
if thy son's harshness should have hardened my heart; advise
him henceforth to treat with more humanity those who
humble themselves before him, and not to repulse those
scornfully who only implore his pity. Go in peace, for
to-morrow thou shalt see thy son restored to health."
"And if it should not be so," answered Antonio, "depend
upon it, I shall not want means to seek thee out, nor
shall I fail to take thy life." So saying, he left her, and she
was so overpowered with fear, that forgetting her affronts,
she drew from behind the door, the incantations which
she had prepared, little by little to consume away the life
of the hard-hearted boy, whose grace and beauty had so
entirely captivated her affections.
No sooner had Zenotia thrown away her infernal preparations,
than Antonio recovered his lost health, the colour
returned to his cheek, his eyes regained their lustre,
and his limbs their strength, to the joy of all his friends.
When his father was alone with him he said, "I wish to
bestow upon thee some advice my son, which is—never
offend God in any way. During the fifteen or sixteen
years of thy life I have taught thee the law which my parents
taught to me, and that is the Catholic faith, the true
one by which alone we can be saved, and which has saved all
who have ever embraced it, and will save all who desire to
enter the kingdom of Heaven. This law teaches us that we
are not to chastise all who offend us, but to advise them to
amend their faults; punishment belongs to the Judge, but
we may all give reproof and counsel. Whenever thou art
tempted to do anything that is contrary to the service of
God, thou need'st not bend thy bow, nor launch thy
arrows, nor use injurious words, but reject the evil counsel
and retire from the opportunity. Thou wilt then come off
conqueror, and wilt be safe from again incurring such peril
as I have now seen thee in. Thou wert bewitched by Zenotia,
and with such potent enchantments, that in less than
ten days thou wouldst, little by little, have lost thy life, if
God and my good speed had not prevented it. Now, come
along with me, and rejoice our friends with the sight of thy
recovered health, and we will hear the adventures of Periander,
which he is to finish to-night."
Antonio promised to attend to his father's counsels with
God's help, in spite of all the snares that might beset his
path through life.
Meanwhile, Zenotia, affronted and grieved by the scorn
of the son and the anger of the father, sought how she could
avenge her injuries through the means of others, without
depriving herself of the presence of her unloving barbarian;
and thus meditating, she went to King Polycarp, and said,
"you know, sire, that ever since I entered into your house
and service, I have tried to serve you with the greatest zeal
and attention: you know also, that trusting to my fidelity
and truth, you have made me the depositary of all your secrets;
and you know well how prudent I am in all peculiar
cases, especially if a love affair be in question, and it is
on this account I wish to tell you that, in allowing Arnoldo
and all his party to go away, you are acting imprudently
and unwisely. Tell me, if when present, you cannot gain
Auristella's consent, how are you to gain it when she is
absent?
"And how is it likely she will keep her word, and return
to marry an old man, as you in fact are, (for we cannot
conceal such truths from ourself,) when she has Periander
with her, who may or may not be, her brother; and Arnoldo,
a princely youth, who desires nothing more ardently
than to make her his wife? Do not, sire, let slip the opportunity
that you now possess: you can take the present
one, which offers itself for detaining them, saying that it is
necessary to punish the monstrous barbarity of one of the
company, who has slain the man they call Clodio, even in
your own palace."
Polycarp listened with attention to the advice of the malicious
Zenotia; every word she uttered went straight
through his heart, as if each had been a sharp nail, and he
would fain have gone directly to carry her advice into effect.
In fancy he beheld Auristella in the arms of Periander,
not as her brother, but as a lover. In fancy he beheld her
seated on the throne of Denmark, and Arnoldo making a
joke of him and his amorous intentions; in fine, jealousy
took possession of his whole soul in such a manner that he
could scarce refrain from giving it utterance, and vowing
vengeance upon those who had never offended him. But
Zenotia, when she saw that her words had taken effect,
and how ready he was to do all she wished him to do, advised
him to remain quiet for the present, for that Periander
was to finish his story that night, and it would give them
time to consider what would be most convenient to be
done. Polycarp agreed, and she, still hopelessly enamoured
of the young Antonio, gave loose to her imagination how
best to accomplish the king's wishes and her own.
The night came on, and Polycarp, with his daughters,
joined the company as they had done before; Periander took
up his history where he had left off after the wedding festivities.
CHAPTER XIII.
Wherein Periander pursues his pleasant narrative.
It was the beautiful Sinforosa who hung with
the greatest delight upon the words of Periander,
such was the charm and grace of
his manner in relating his adventures.
"That night," said he, "we all went over
to a small island in the middle of the river, invited by its verdant
appearance, and the tranquillity of the spot. The newly-married
couples, without openly showing their satisfaction,
were diligent, and anxious, to give all the pleasure in their
power to those to whom they owed their present happiness;
and they gave orders that in this little islet of the
river the festivities should be renewed, and should continue
for three days.
"The season of the year, which was summer, the beauty
of the place, the brilliant moonlight, the murmuring of the
stream, the fruit covered trees, the fragrance of the flowers,
each of these separately, and altogether, invited us to resolve
that we would remain here whilst the festivities lasted;
but scarcely had we reached the isle, when from a little
grove, which was in it, rushed forth a band of fifty men,
lightly armed, like those who rob and run away; and as the
unwary when attacked, are overcome through their surprise,
almost without attempting to defend ourselves,—bewildered
by the suddenness of the assault, we gazed upon the robbers
instead of attacking them, who, like hungry wolves
that have beset a flock of innocent sheep, carried off, if not
in their mouths, yet in their arms, my sister Auristella, her
nurse Clelia, and Silviana, and Leoncia, as if it was only
for them that they came, for they left many other women
who were extremely beautiful.
"I, whom the strangeness of the event had rendered furious
rather than stupified, rushed after the robbers, following
them with loud cries, insulting them as if they were
men capable of feeling insults, in the hope that by irritating
them I might move them to return and take vengeance for
it; but intent only on their prey, they neither seemed to
hear or to wish for revenge, but disappeared with their
prizes. Then the bridegrooms and myself, with some of
the principal fishermen, took counsel together what we had
better do to recover our lost ones; one said, 'it is not
possible but that there must be in these seas some vessel belonging
to these robbers, and in some place from whence
they have easily landed, perhaps being aware of our meeting
and festivities; if it be thus, as I imagine, the best
remedy will be for some of our boats to go out and offer
any ransom for the captives that they may require without
any reserve.'
"'This business shall be mine,' I then exclaimed, 'for
to me my sister is worth more than anything else in the
whole world,' and Carino and Solercio said the same. They
wept openly—I was raging inwardly. When we had come
to this resolution, it was beginning to grow dark; nevertheless
the two bridegrooms and I, got into a boat with six
oars, but when we reached the open sea, night had closed
in, and we could distinguish no ship at all in the darkness.
We resolved to wait for daylight, in the hope of then discovering
some vessel. It so happened that we did see
two, one that was just leaving the shore, and another that
was approaching it; I knew that the one which was departing,
was the very same ship in which we had come to
the island, for her flags as well as her sails were all marked
with a red cross, the other had hers, green, and both were
pirates.
"Then, as I imagined, that the ship which was leaving
the shore was the one which contained our robbers and
their prizes, I put a white flag on the end of a lance, and
came near the ship's side to treat about the ransom, being
careful not to be taken myself. The captain appeared on
the deck, and when I was about to raise my voice and
speak to him, I must confess I was startled and disturbed
at being cut short in my attempt by a loud and frightful
noise, proceeding from a discharge of artillery; this came
from the vessel that was outermost, and was a message of
defiance to the other vessel that was near the land; it was
quickly answered by a return not less tremendous, and then
began a cannonading between the two ships, like two fierce
and furious enemies.
"We withdrew our little boat from the scene of combat,
and from a distance we surveyed the fight. After the
firing had lasted an hour, the two ships grappled one
another with unexampled fury. The men of the outermost
vessel, either more daring or more valiant, leapt into the
other ship, and cleared her decks in a few minutes, killing
all, without sparing a single soul on board; then, finding
themselves masters, they proceeded to pillage the ship of
everything valuable that she contained, which was not
much, seeing that she was only a pirate vessel, but in my
estimation she held what was more precious than anything
else in the whole world, for they got possession of my sister
and Clelia, and Silviana, and Leoncia, thus carrying a rich
cargo to their own vessel, for they saw that the beauty of
Auristella would ensure an unheard-of ransom. I wished
to row near the ship, and speak to the captain of the conquerors—but
the winds have been ever to me a source of
misfortune,—a land breeze sprung up, which carried the
ship rapidly away, and made it quite impossible for me to
reach it, or to offer impossibilities as a ransom for their
prize.
"Thus then were we obliged to return hopeless of recovering
our lost ones, and knowing nothing of her course
except that she had gone before the wind. We knew nothing
of whither she was bound, or who were the pirates,
so as to judge from a knowledge of their country what hopes
remained of any remedy. With downcast and dejected
hearts we entered the river, where all the fishermen in
their boats were expecting us.
"I know not if I ought to tell you what is, however,
indispensable to be told, that a certain feeling then arose
within me which, without changing my being, yet made
me feel as if I was more than man; and rising up in the
boat I addressed myself to all the men who were gathered
around us, and who listened attentively to my words.
'Misfortunes,' I said, 'are never mended by sitting down
idly to lament them—good luck never befriends the pusillanimous
soul; we are ourselves the fabricators of our own
fortunes, and there breathes not a man who has not the capability
of raising himself. The cowardly, though born
rich, are always poor, like the miserly beggar. I speak
thus, my friends, in hopes of exciting and impelling you to
better your lot, to quit these poor nets and fishing tackle,
and small boats, and go in search of the treasures that are
to be gained by noble enterprises. I call such enterprises
noble as are undertaken for high and great ends. If the
man who tills the earth by the sweat of his brow, hardly
obtains enough for the day's sustenance, and gains no fame,
why does he not take a lance instead of a spade in his hand,
and without the fear of the heat of the sun, or the inclemencies
of the weather, seek to win, besides his daily bread,
fame which can place him high among his fellow men?
War, though but a step-mother to cowards, is a true mother
to brave men, and for them she has rewards that surpass
all calculation. Then arouse yourselves, my friends;
cast your eyes towards yonder ship which bore away the
beloved prize from the arms of your companions, ye valiant
youths. She lies on the shore, and seems left to us as by the
peculiar ordonnance of Heaven. Let us take possession of
her, and become pirates, not for love of gain like most
pirates, but to redress our wrongs: we are all skilled in navigation;
in that ship we shall find everything we need to
manage her, for she was despoiled of nothing but the women,
and if our injury is great, very great also is the opportunity
that offers itself of avenging it. Follow me then
who will, I entreat you, and Carino and Solercio ask you
also, for well I know that they will not leave me to undertake
this noble enterprise alone.'
"Hardly had I ceased speaking, when a murmur of
many voices arose among all the boats,—the men were asking
each other what they should do,—and then from the
crowd a voice exclaimed, 'Embark, generous guest, and be
our captain and our guide, for we will all follow thee.'
"I took this sudden resolution as a good omen, and fearing
that delay in carrying my plan into execution might
give their zeal time to moderate, I immediately steered my
boat towards the ship, followed by about forty others. We
reconnoitred the vessel, boarded her, examined every part,
noted what she had and what she needed, and found all I
could desire that was necessary for a voyage; I advised that
nobody should return to land, to escape the lamentations of
the women and dear children, which I feared might weaken
their gallant resolution of departing. They did as I counselled,
and took leave in imagination of parents, wives, and
children; so wonderful is this, that I feel I shall need all your
courtesy to give credit to what I say; not a man returned to
land, or wished for more clothing than he had on when he
came on board the ship, in which all served as mariners and
pilots, except myself, who was unanimously appointed as
their captain, and commending myself to God, I instantly
began to exercise my new office. The first order I issued
was, to have all the dead corpses thrown overboard that
had been killed in the late affray, and to cleanse the ship
from the blood that stained her decks; I then ordered all
the arms to be sought for, and distributed them among the
men, giving each what I thought best suited to him; I next
inspected the provisions, and calculated how much would
be necessary for each person, and for what number of days.
"This done, and having offered our prayers to Heaven to
implore that our voyage might be propitious, and that our
intentions might have a blessing upon them, I gave the word
of command to set the sails, for they were all made fast to
the yards, and to take advantage of the wind, which as I
before said, blew off shore; and gay as gallant, and gallant
as determined, we followed in the same track that we had
seen the pirate vessel take with her prey.
"You, my friends, who are listening to my history, behold
me turned now into a fisherman and match-maker,
rich in the possession of a beloved sister, next robbed by
pirates, and poor, deprived of her, raised to the rank of a
captain in order to regain my treasure, and say whether the
changes of my fortune have not reached a point almost unparalleled
and boundless, so as to fatigue your patience in
listening to them."
"Not so, my friend," said Arnoldo, "for if you are not
weary of relating your adventures and misfortunes, we
shall not be tired of hearing them, be they ever so numerous."
"If possible," answered Periander, "I will bring my
story to an end to-morrow night, although it is yet hardly
begun."
All agreed that they would meet again for the purpose
of hearing him relate it, in the same place on the following
evening.
CHAPTER XIV.
He tells of a singular Circumstance that happened at Sea.
The health of the bewitched Antonio was now
quite restored, and with his recovered beauty,
increased Zenotia's passion, and made her
more and more desirous of detaining him;
for even those whose cases are most desperate,
never give up deluding themselves with hope, so long
as the beloved object is before their eyes: therefore with all
the means her active mind could suggest, she cast about to
throw impediments in the way of the departure of the
guests, and went again to advise Polycarp on no account
to let the daring crime of the barbarous homicide go unpunished,
or at least that he should keep a threat of punishment
hanging over his head.
Polycarp was not, however, disposed to comply with the
advice, "for," said he to Zenotia, "it will be an interference
with Prince Arnoldo, under whose protection this
youth is, and it will vex my beloved Auristella, who considers
him as her brother; besides, his crime was accidental,
and proceeded not from malice, but mischance; moreover,
no one demands justice, and all those who know the man,
affirm that he well deserved his death, for that he was the
worst evil-speaker and slanderer that ever lived."
"How is this, sire?" cried Zenotia, "after having settled
the other day together that he was to be punished as an excuse
for detaining Auristella,—you now seem averse to the
measure. They will go, and she will not return; then will
you lament your ill-advised consent to allow of her departure,
when tears and lamentations will be of no avail. By
giving up this boy to justice, and then acting towards him
mercifully, you will preserve your character for a good and
just king."
Thus did Zenotia counsel Polycarp, who was now in one
mind, now in another, as to what he should resolve to do,
and how he could continue to detain Auristella without offending
Arnoldo, whose power and valour he feared greatly.
In the midst of all these considerations, and in the midst
of those which Sinforosa was on her side also indulging,
arrived the hour when Periander was to go on with his
history, which he did in the following manner:—
"Lightly flew our ship as the winds impelled her—not
a single man amongst us wished it otherwise—leaving our
course to be as fate directed us.
"Having sailed all that day, at the dawn of another the
sentinel, on the topmast-head, cried aloud, 'A ship! a ship!'
I asked what her course was, and how large she might be;
he replied that, 'she was the same size as our own ship,
and that she was ahead of us.'
"'Then, my friends'," said I, 'arm yourselves, and if
these are pirates, show the valorous spirit which has led
you to abandon your nets in search of fame.' We crowded
all our sails, and in less than two hours were alongside the
ship, which, as if taken by surprise, offered no resistance:
about forty of my men boarded her, but found no occasion
to use their swords, as she contained only the mariners and
some serving men. Looking about, we found in one of the
cabins, two persons, closely confined by the neck in a sort
of iron stocks, and separated from each other scarcely two
rods; one was a man of good mien; the other, a woman
possessing a considerable share of beauty. In another
apartment we found a rich couch, on which lay a venerable
old man, whose air and manner at once commanded
respect. He could not leave his couch, but he raised his
head a little, and said, 'Sheathe your swords, gentlemen,
for in this ship you will find none to resist you; necessarily
then you must try your fortune in this exercise in some
other quarter; but your coming will be fortunate for you,
not because the ship has wealth wherewith to enrich you,
but because I sail in her, I, who am Leopold, king of
Norway.'[G]
"On hearing him speak thus, I felt a desire to know what
events could have happened to bring a king into such a defenceless
situation; going to him, I asked if this was true that
I heard, for although his appearance and noble demeanour
well agreed with his words, yet the scanty equipage of his
vessel made it difficult of belief. 'Sir,' replied the old man,
'order your people to be quiet, and listen to me, for in a
few words you shall hear great things.' I commanded
silence, and my companions and I listened attentively to
what he wished to say, which was this:—
"'It pleased Heaven to make me king of Norway;[H] my
ancestors, likewise, were kings of that land, and they had
ruled as their forefathers did, without tyranny or any other
innovations. Early in life I married a wife, who was my
equal in rank; she died, and left me childless. Time went
on, and still I remained contented in my widower's state;
but for my sins at length I became enamoured of a lady
who had been one of the attendants of my late wife, and
who might now be a queen, instead of a prisoner in those
stocks, where you must have seen her fastened. She then,
thinking it would be unjust not to prefer the curling locks
of one of my servants to my grey hairs, fled with him, and
not only felt a pleasure in thus dishonouring me, but conspired
also with him to take away my life; so that, had I
not been timely informed of her plots and machinations,
my head would have been off my shoulders in the twinkling
of an eye, and theirs crowned, as sovereigns in my place.
"'I discovered their treason in time; but they also obtained
the information that I had found it out; and one
night they got on board a small bark, which was ready to
sail, and fled from my wrath. I, hearing of this, flew on
the wings of my just anger to the sea-shore, and found that
they had been gone about twenty hours. Blind with fury,
and full of a desire for vengeance, without waiting to take
any counsel or prudent consideration, I embarked in this
vessel, and followed them, not with the authority and paraphernalia
of a monarch, but as a private enemy. I found
them at the end of ten days in an island, called the Isle of
Fire; I had them seized and immediately confined in the
manner you have seen, to convey them back to Norway,
and deliver them up to the punishment due to their crime.
"'This is the plain truth. Those are the delinquents;
I am a king; and I promise to give you as my ransom one
hundred thousand pieces of gold; not that I have them
with me, but I give you my word of honour to send them
wheresoever you please; and as a security, if my word suffices
not, take me along with you in your own ship, and let
some of your people go in mine until they reach Norway,
and fetch the money, to carry it whither it pleases you. I
have no more to say.'
"My companions looked one on the other, and gave me
time to answer for all, which, as their captain, I had a right
to do; but, nevertheless, I wished to take the opinion of
Carino and Solercio, and some of the others, that they might
not think I presumed upon the command they had themselves
given me over them; and so the answer I gave the
king was to say—'My lord, these men you see before you
are not in arms for lucre of gain, nor for any of the ambitious
ends which commonly influence people; we are in
search of robbers, we are seeking to chastise some ruffians,
and to destroy some pirates, and as you are none of these,
your life is safe with us; but if we can serve you in any
way, you have only to ask us: and, although we thank
you for the rich ransom you offer, we absolve you from
giving any, since, as you are not a prisoner, you cannot be
obliged to act like one. Follow your own course in peace,
and all that I would ask of you is, to beseech your pardon
for the offenders, as the greatness of a king shines forth
more in acts of mercy than even of justice.' He would
fain have humbled himself at my feet, but I prevented this,
and begged that he would give us some powder and divide
his provisions with us, which he did immediately. I also said
to him, that in case he did not like to forgive the two criminals
entirely, I would advise him to allow me take them away
in my vessel, and I would convey them to a distant land,
where they could never more offend him. He agreed to
this, for he said that the presence of the guilty pair would
always revive the memory of their crime. I then gave my
command that we should return to our ship, with the provisions
and the powder, that the king had given us, and
was going to send for the two prisoners, already free from
their confinement, when a fresh breeze suddenly sprung up
which prevented this: it quickly separated the two vessels
without a possibility of their coming again together. I
stood upon the deck, and cried aloud, 'Adieu!' to the old
king, who had ordered himself to be lifted from his bed,
and supported in the arms of his servants, he waved his
farewell to our ship—and I also must take my leave of
you for the present, as I shall need rest before I begin upon
my next adventure."
He relates what passed concerning Sulpicia, the Niece of
Cratilius, King of Lithuania.
The agreeable way in which Periander told
the story of his strange adventures, gave
pleasure to every one of his hearers, except
Maurice, who, when he was alone with his
daughter, said to her, "It seemeth to me,
Transila, that Periander might relate the events of his life
in a few less words, and less diffusely than he does. I do
not see why he need detail, so very minutely, all about the
fishermen and their festivals, nor yet their marriages, for
though episodes may be admitted to ornament a tale, they
should not be as long as the original story itself; but the
fact, I suspect, is, that Periander likes to show the cleverness
with which he can relate, and what fine language he
can use in his descriptions." "It may be so," said Transila,
"but all I know is, that whether he dilates, or whether
he is succinct in what he tells us, all is charming and gives
one pleasure to hear it, but to none of us does it give more
delight than to Sinforosa, as I believe I told you before;
she hangs on every word that drops from Periander's lips,
as if her very soul went along with them."
The perpetually changing thoughts of Polycarp prevented
him from lending much attention to Periander's
discourse, and he wished that there might not be a great
deal more to relate; but Sinforosa had so great a desire to
hear the end, that she entreated him to return the next day,
which he agreed to do, and continued his history thus:—
"You must consider, Sirs, that my crew of mariners
were men more rich in valour than in gold, and for my part
I began to feel some doubts whether my liberality had quite
pleased them, and although allowing the King Leopold to go
away free was done by their consent, as well as my own,
yet as the dispositions of all men are not the same, I suspected
that they were not quite satisfied, and that it would
not be easy to make them amends for the hundred thousand
pieces of gold which Leopold offered for his ransom, and this
moved me to speak to them thus; 'My good friends, do not
allow yourselves to regret the recollection of the large treasure
you have lost, which was offered to us by the king, for
I would have you know that one ounce of honourable fame is
worth more than a pound of pearls. And this you cannot
feel until you have begun to taste the sweets of having
won that renown which is gained by great and good deeds.
The poor man, enriched by virtue, may become famous,
whilst the rich one, if vicious, can never know anything but
infamy. Generosity is one of the most pleasing virtues in him
who aspires to renown; and so true is this, that you will
never find an ill-conditioned person liberal; an avaricious or
covetous man cannot be so.' I was proceeding thus in my
discourse, seeing that they lent an attentive ear to me as
their countenances showed, when I was interrupted by
discovering a ship which was not far from our own—indeed
hard a lee upon our course: we flew to arms, and
gave chase with all the sails we could set. In a short time
I ordered a shot to be fired as a signal to bring her to; we
did so, and she slackened sail. On coming near, we beheld
one of the strangest sights imaginable: hanging to the yards
and the rigging were more than forty men strangled. I
marvelled greatly at this; and going alongside, some of my
men boarded her without meeting any opposition. They
found the deck deluged with blood, and covered with the
bodies of men dead and dying, some with their hands cut
off, some with their heads cleft asunder, some bleeding,
some just expiring; one man was sending forth the most
dismal groans, another uttering shrieks of agony. All this
death-scene seemed to have taken place after a repast, for
divers articles of food swam amidst the blood, and mingled
with these were drinking cups and bottles still half full of
wine. But now, treading over the bodies of the dead and
dying, my mariners passed on to the stern cabin, where
they found a party of a dozen beautiful women: foremost
amongst them stood one who seemed to be their captain,
armed with a white corslet, so clear and polished that it
might almost have served as a mirror; she wore a throat
piece, but no armour on her arms or legs; on her head
was a helmet of curiously twisted workmanship, ornamented
with an infinite variety of differently coloured stones; she
held a javelin in her hand, all studded over with golden
nails, and a large knife of shining and sharp steel. She looked
in this array so spirited and graceful, that her bare aspect
was enough to make the men, as they entered, stop short
and gaze upon her with wonder and awe.
"I, who had been looking on for some time from our
own vessel, now came on board the other, to see better
what was going on. I arrived just in time to hear her
saying to my men, 'I can well suppose, O soldiers, that
the sight of this little army of women rather inspires you
with wonder than with fear. As for us, after the vengeance
we have taken for our wrongs, nothing can ever excite fear
in us again. Attack us, if ye are thirsting for blood, and
shed ours; we freely give our lives so that we preserve our
honour. I am Sulpicia, the niece of Cratilio, king of
Lithuania; my uncle gave me in marriage to the great
Lampidio, as noble in lineage as he was rich in the gifts of
nature and fortune. We were going to visit the king, my
uncle, secure, as we imagined, among our own vassals
and servants, all of whom were beholden to us for some
act of kindness or other with which we were constantly
loading them, but all these obligations were forgotten.
One night, after they had drunk deeply, although half stupified
by wine, they dared to lay their wicked hands on
my husband, and deprived him of life, as the first beginning
of their abominable designs; but we resolved to defend
ourselves, and at least not to die unavenged. Availing
ourselves of the state of drunkenness they were in,
and the little sense they had left, we armed ourselves as
well as we could, and with the help of four servants, who
remained true to us, and had not joined the guilty conspiracy,
we performed the work of death which you have
witnessed on the deck, and carrying our vengeance further,
we made the masts and rigging bear the fruit which you
now behold hanging thereon. Forty men are strangled
there, and if there had been forty thousand they would have
shared the same fate, so weak were they and unable to defend
themselves, so fierce in our wrath were we. I possess
riches, which I can distribute among you, although, perhaps,
I might rather say, that you can take them. I will
only add that I give them up to you willingly; take them,
gentlemen, and do not molest us.'
"Even if I had been a real pirate, the words of Sulpicia
would have softened my heart; one of my fishermen said,
'May I die if here is not another King Leopold offering
riches to us, with whom our noble captain may show his
high breeding. Look you, my lord Periander, the lady
Sulpicia may go free, we ask no more than the glory of
having conquered our selfish desires.'
"'And so it shall be, my friends,' I replied, 'since you
desire it, and I truly believe that Heaven never lets such
acts go unrewarded, any more than it surely punishes the
deeds that are evil: now clear this bad fruit from the rigging,
and clean this deck, and then offer with their liberty
your services to these ladies.'
"They did as I commanded, and the fair Sulpicia, full
of gratitude and admiration, fell at my feet like one who
could not entirely believe all that she heard.
"She tried to answer and return our kindness in some
measure, and bade one of her women bring the coffers,
where she kept her jewels and money. The lady to whom
she spoke did as she was desired, and in a moment, as if
suddenly rained down from above, I saw spread before me,
four coffers full of gold and precious jewels. Sulpicia
opened and displayed these before the eyes of my fishermen;
perhaps the sight blinded the eyes of some of them to the
generous intentions they had avowed, for there is a great
difference between giving up a thing when it is before your
eyes, and renouncing only the hope of possessing it. Sulpicia
drew forth a rich necklace of gold, glittering with precious
stones, which were set in it, and said, 'Accept this,
O noble captain, as a gift from me, to show my gratitude.
It is the offering of a poor widow, who yesterday saw herself
at the height of happiness and prosperity, blest in the
possession and protection of a beloved husband; and to-day
subject to the will and pleasure of these men of yours,
who may divide my treasures among them;—there is power
in gold to soften the very rocks.'
"'The gifts of so high and noble a lady,' I replied, 'are
not to be lightly valued,' and taking the necklace, I turned
to my companions and said, 'this jewel is given to me, my
friends, and therefore I can dispose of it as my own property;
as its value seems inestimable, it is not fit that it
should belong to one man only. Let him who pleases take
and keep it, and when he can meet with a purchaser, divide
the price among you all, and do not touch one single
other thing of the noble lady's possessions, so shall your
fame be sounded even to the skies.'
"'We would have wished,' answered one among them,
'O great captain, that you had not given us the counsel you
did, that you might have seen how entirely we feel as you
do. Restore the lady her necklace; the fame we seek shall
need no collar to restrain or limit its bounds.'
"I was very well pleased with this reply, and Sulpicia
marvelled at their disinterestedness. Finally she asked if I
would give her twelve of my men to protect her, and some
mariners who could take charge of the ship, and steer her
to Lithuania; I agreed, and the men I selected were well
pleased to be able to do so kind an action.
"Sulpicia gave us some excellent wines, and the most exquisite
sweetmeats. The wind blew fair for both her course
and our own, for which as yet we knew no positive destination
or haven. We took our leave of her—she knew my
name, and also that of Carino and Solercio;—she pressed
our hands in hers, and with her eyes she thanked the rest,
and bade them adieu. She shed many tears, caused by the
mingled feelings of sorrow and thankfulness; sorrow for
her husband's death, and joy in finding herself safe and free
from the hands of those she had supposed were pirates, and
thus we parted. I forgot to mention that I returned the
necklace to Sulpicia, who received it with reluctance, and
only because of my absolute refusal to accept it; she even
seemed half to consider my returning it as an affront.
"I then held a consultation with my men as to what
course we should take, and decided to go as the wind impelled
us, because we were thus more likely to fall in with
other vessels.
"The night came on serene and clear, and I, calling one
of the fishermen who was a mariner, and who served as the
master and head pilot, to take the helm, seated myself on
the forecastle, and began to watch the heavens with deep
attention."
"Now would I lay any wager," said Maurice, aside to
his daughter, "that Persiles is going to give us a description
of the celestial hemisphere, as if it signifies to us, one atom,
what the motion of the heavenly bodies might be; for my
part I heartily wish he would bring his story to an end, for
the desire that I have to get away from this place is such,
that I really cannot trouble myself with knowing which are
fixed, and which, wandering stars, and the more because I
myself know everything on that subject that he can possibly
tell me."
Whilst Maurice and Transila were speaking thus in a
whisper, Periander, who had paused to take breath, went
on with his tale.
CHAPTER XVI.
Periander continues his Narration, and relates a
singular Dream.
"Slumber had begun to take possession of the
senses of my companions, and I began to
question the one who was keeping watch
with me, upon many matters important to
mariners, and needful for them to know,
when it suddenly began to rain, not in drops, but as if
whole clouds were at once emptying their contents upon
our ship, so that it appeared as if the sea had risen into the
sky, and from thence was overflowing upon our vessel. All
awoke in great perturbation, and looking about on every
side, saw a clear unclouded sky, and no signs of storm or
tempest, a thing which struck every one with awe and
dread: whilst they were gazing around, the man who had
been with me, said, 'I have no doubt but that this rain proceeds
from the nostrils of those monstrous fishes which are
called wreckers, and if it be so, then are we in the greatest
peril, and it will be necessary for us to discharge all our
guns, for the noise will sometimes terrify them.' As he
spoke, we saw the neck and head of a terrible serpent rise[I]
and enter the ship: it seized, and instantly swallowed at a
mouthful, one of our seamen before our eyes. 'Yes, they
are 'Wreckers',' cried our pilot; 'we must make haste to
fire, no matter with or without shot, for it is from the noise
alone we can hope for help against these monsters.'
"Our men were flying in confusion to hide themselves,
none dared stand up, lest they should become the prey of
these horrible enemies; but at this some flew to the guns,
some shouted aloud, and others turned to the pumps to get
rid of the water, which overflowed our deck. We set every
sail, and fled as though we were escaping from a whole fleet
of enemies; our present extreme danger was the greatest,
in that it was one we had never yet seen or even heard of.
The next day we found ourselves about dusk on the shore
of an island unknown to any of us, and with the intention
of watering here, we resolved to stay till the following morning
close to the land; we, therefore, took down the sails
and anchored, having done which, we resigned our weary
bodies to sleep, which we greatly needed: sweet and grateful
were our slumbers.
"When we had refreshed ourselves with this welcome
rest, we landed and sauntered along the delightful shore, the
sands of which (without any exaggeration) were all of grains
of gold and minute pearls. We penetrated more inland and
saw meadows, the grass of which was not merely green, but
of the brightest emerald colour. The brooks and rivulets
ran not like simply sparkling streams, but like liquid diamonds;
and appeared, as they meandered through the meadows,
like crystal serpents. Then we came to a wood of
various kinds of trees, so beautiful that we stood transfixed
with wonder and delight. From the boughs of some, hung
bunches of cherries, that looked like rubies; from others,
apples, the cheeks of some like roses, of others like topazes.
There were pears, of exquisite fragrance and colour, like
the setting sun; in fine, there was every species of fruit we
know, all here to be found in perfection, without being
confined to any particular season. All here was spring,
summer, autumn, in one,—heat without being oppressive,
agreeable and delightful beyond belief.
"All our senses were gratified, our eyes revelled in the
beauty that lay around us, our ears were enchanted by the
soft murmuring of the rivulets, and the singing of an infinite
variety of small birds, which, hopping from tree to
tree, and bough to bough, seemed as if they were detained
as captives who wished not to be free; our sense of smell
was regaled with the fragrance that exhaled from every
herb, flower, and fruit, and our taste with the delicious
proof they afforded of their excellence and sweetness; and
it was pleasant to the touch to have them in our hands, so
that we seemed to possess the pearls of the South, the diamonds
of India, and the gold of Tebir."[J]
"It is a pity, methinks, that Clodio is dead," whispered
Ladislaus to his father-in-law, "for in truth Periander
would have given him something to talk about."
"Hold your tongue," said Transila, "you cannot say
that he does not tell his story well."
While these whispers were passing, Periander had paused
to take breath, but soon he continued his narration thus:—"All
this that I have told you," said he, "is nothing to
what is to come; I shall require all your courtesy to believe
the things I shall narrate; your eyes would open
wide, gentlemen, and yours too, fair ladies, if you were to
see what we saw proceed from the bosom of a rock, with
our own eyes, so that there was no deception. I say that
out of the aperture of a rock, there came forth, first, a most
melodious noise that arrested our attention, then a sound of
divers instruments; then issued forth a car,—I hardly know
how to describe its form, but something resembling a ship;—it
was drawn by twelve enormous apes, and in the car
was a very beautiful lady, arrayed in a gorgeous robe of
many colours, crowned with oleanders; she leant upon a
black stick, in which was fixed a kind of tablet, or shield,
with the word 'Sensuality' thereon; behind her followed
other beautiful women, each with a musical instrument in
her hand, producing a melody now gay, now mournful, altogether
singularly pleasing.
"My companions and I were so astonished that we stood
as if transformed into stone statues. The beautiful lady
came straight to me, and in a voice half sweet, half angry,
she said, 'It has cost thee dear, O noble youth, being my
enemy,' and so saying, she passed on, and the musical damsels
seized, and carried off, as it were, seven or eight of my
mariners, and following their mistress, disappeared again
through the aperture of the rock. I then turned to my
comrades, and was about to ask what they thought of all this
that we had seen, when the sound of other voices reached
our ears, very different from the first, more agreeable and
even more melodious, and then appeared a band of lovely
women. They preceded my sister Auristella: no words
can express her more than mortal beauty;—she was between
two damsels, one of whom stept forwards, and spoke
to me thus:—'Virtue and modesty are inseparable companions,
and ever accompany chastity, who is here under the
semblance of your beloved sister Auristella, nor will they
ever leave her until her peregrinations come to a happy termination
in the holy city of Rome.' Then I, enraptured
with those happy tidings, and wondering at the lovely sight
before me, so new and strange an adventure, would fain
have raised my voice, and exclaimed, 'O ye bright comforters
of my soul; O rich reward granted for my welfare—sweet
and joyful now and ever to me.' So great was the
energy with which I strove to utter these words, that I
awoke from my dream, and the lovely vision vanished; I
found myself in the ship with my companions,—all were
there, none of them missing."
"Then," exclaimed Constance, "my lord Periander,
you were only dreaming?"
"I was," he answered, "all my happiness has ever been
but a dream."
"Truly," she rejoined, "I was going to ask the lady
Auristella where she had concealed herself all the time before
she appeared to you."
"My brother," said Auristella, "has related his dream in
such a manner, that I really felt a doubt whether it was
truth or not, that he was telling us."
To which Maurice added, "These things are owing to
the force of imagination, which represents things sometimes
in so varied a way, that they cling to the memory, and remain
there till we hardly know whether they are truth or
not."
Meanwhile Arnoldo kept silence; he was considering in
his mind the vivacity and warmth of expression that Periander
had used in relating his story, and could not help
indulging some of the doubts and suspicions which had been
infused into his mind by the deceased Clodio, as to whether
Periander and Auristella were really brother and sister.
However, at length he said, "Go on with your story, Periander,
but leave out your dreams, for weary and overworked
minds often engender confused and strange fancies,
and here is the peerless Sinforosa longing to have you come
to the time of your first appearance in the island, when you
went away crowned as conqueror in the games which take
place on the anniversary of her father's election."
"The pleasure that my dream gave me," replied Periander,
"made me unaware of the tiresome and fruitless
nature of such digressions in a narrative, which should be
concise and not amplified."
Polycarp, whose eyes were entirely occupied with looking
at Auristella, and his mind in thinking about her, said
nothing. It mattered very little to him whether Periander
spoke or held his tongue, and he, who began to perceive
that some of his hearers were tired of his long story, determined
to shorten the rest, and to finish it in as few words
as he could, and so he spoke as follows.
[J]
Tebir, name of gold dust on the African coast.
CHAPTER XVII.
He continues his Story.
"I awakened from my dream, as I told
you, and held a council with my companions
what course we should take, and it was
resolved to go still as the winds should guide
us, for as we were in pursuit of pirates, who
never sail against the wind, we should be certain to find
some; such was my folly, that I asked Carino and Solercio
whether they had seen their wives among the number of
those who followed Auristella, as I had seen in my dream.
They laughed at my inquiry, and desired, and even forced
me, to relate to them what I had dreamt.
"For two months we continued cruising about these seas
without meeting with any adventure of importance; but we
purged them from more than seventy pirate ships, and appropriated
the spoil, filling our vessel with immense wealth,
which greatly delighted my companions, and they did not
regret having exchanged the trade of fishermen for that of
pirates, for they were only robbers of the robber, and stole
nothing but what was stolen before.
"It happened that the wind blew so obstinately from
one quarter, that without slackening sail or altering our
course, it drove us forward in such a manner, that for more
than a month we sailed on in the same direction, insomuch
that my pilot, taking the altitude of the pole, and measuring
the knots we made in an hour, and calculating the number of
days we had been sailing thus, found that we had gone four
hundred leagues, more or less. Again our pilot took his
observations, and found that we were on the coast of Norway;
then raising his voice in sorrowful accents, he cried,
'Unhappy that we are, if the wind does not change shortly,
our lives will be ended here, for we are in the icy sea; I
say we are in the frozen ocean, and if the frost comes here,
we shall remain, petrified, and fast in these waters.' He
had hardly spoken, when we felt that the ship's sides and
keel were knocking against moving rocks, as it seemed, by
which we guessed that the sea was beginning to freeze, and
these ice mountains thus formed underneath obstruct the
vessel's course. We lowered the sails at once, lest they
should be torn by touching them, and all that day and night
the water froze and pressed around us, so that it held us fast
enclosed, like a stone that is set in a ring; and now all at
once the frost began to benumb our bodies, and sadden our
spirits, till fear took possession of us, and we, seeing the imminent
peril of our situation, could only look forward to
our lives lasting for just as many days as we had food in the
ship to sustain them. From this moment we put ourselves
on an allowance, and the measure appointed for each was
so small that we soon began to feel the pangs of hunger.
We looked around on every side, but met with nothing
that could afford the slightest hope, unless it might be a
dark bulky object, which appeared to us about seven or
eight miles distant. But this we supposed likely to be some
other vessel, which the ice held imprisoned like our own.
"Our present danger surpassed all the former ones
which I had ever experienced, because a protracted dread,
and a continued expectation of death, is more trying than
a speedy one, which spares us all those horrors and agonies
which are far worse than death itself. Seeing then that we
were threatened with starvation, we came to a resolution,
which was rash at least, if not quite desperate; and considering
that the human mind can conceive no death more
terrible than that by hunger, we determined to leave our
vessel, and travel across the ice, to see if we could discover
in the one we had seen in the distance, anything we could
avail ourselves of, either by fair means or force.
"We carried this purpose into effect, and in a few
minutes on the frozen waters was formed a squadron, small,
perhaps, but composed of brave men, who, with myself as
their leader, rolling, falling, and getting up again, reached
at last the other vessel, for so it was, and pretty nearly the
same size as our own. There were men in her, who, seeing
us, and guessing our intentions, called out aloud, 'What
do ye come here for, desperate men? what do ye seek? are
ye come to hasten our death, or to die with us? Return
to your ship, and if ye lack food, gnaw the rigging, and fill
your stomachs with the pitchy wood, for if ye hope to
have aid here, the hope is vain, and against the precepts of
charity, which begins at home; for the two months during
which this frost will last, we have one fortnight's provisions,
and whether it is likely that we shall divide these
with you, we leave you to consider upon.'
"To which I answered, 'In extreme cases we cannot
stop to reason; receive us into your ship with good will
and divide with us your provisions, which we come in
quest of, and which we need: let us eat together in friendship,
or we shall be obliged to have recourse to our arms,
and to use force.' I answered in this manner because I did
not believe that they spoke the truth about the quantity of
provisions they had on board, but they, seeing themselves
superior in numbers, and having the advantage in position,
neither feared our threats nor listened to our entreaties, but
flew to arms, and prepared to defend themselves. My
men, who were rendered more courageous than common
by desperation, attacked the ship, and succeeded in getting
on board, and making themselves masters of her without
any one even receiving a wound. A voice from amongst our
company proposed that all the men should be put to death
to lessen the number of mouths requiring food. I, however,
could not agree to this, and, perhaps in order to help
my wish of preserving their lives, Heaven came to our assistance,
as I shall tell you by and bye; for first I must
inform you, that I found this vessel to be the very pirate
ship that had robbed me of my sister, and the fishermen of
their young brides. Hardly had I made the discovery than
I cried out, 'Ha, robbers? where have ye hidden those who
are dear as our own souls? where are our beloved ones, whom
ye have stolen from us? What have ye done with my sister
Auristella? and where are Silviana and Leoncia, the young
wives of my good friends, Carino and Solercio?'
"One of the pirates answered me, 'Those women whom
you speak of that belonged to the fishermen, were sold by
our captain, who is now dead, to Arnoldo, the prince of
Denmark.'"
"That was true," said Arnoldo, "for I did buy Auristella,
and her nurse Clelia, and two other very beautiful girls,
from some pirates, who sold them to me at a price far below
their value."
"Good Heavens," exclaimed Rutilio, "and by what
circumlocutions, and through what curious links have you
carried your wandering history, O Periander!"
"Out of kindness to yourself," added Sinforosa, "we
would fain have you shorten your tale, which is as interesting
as it is true."
"I will do so," said Periander, "if it is possible that
great events can be narrated in a few words."
CHAPTER XVIII.
The treacherous conduct of Polycarp in consequence of Zenotia's
advice. He loses his Kingdom, and she her Life.
His Guests quit the Island, and land on the Isle of Hermits.
All this delay, owing to the length of Periander's
history, was so contrary to the
wishes of Polycarp, that he could neither
lend it his attention, nor mature his thoughts
as to what he should do in order to keep
Auristella without prejudice to the character he desired to
preserve, of a generous and just king. He considered how
high was the rank of some of his guests; first and foremost
stood Arnoldo, the prince of Denmark, not by election, but
hereditary right. In every word and action of Periander,
in his noble and spirited demeanour, he plainly discerned
some high-born personage; and in the lovely Auristella, an
equally illustrious lady: he would willingly have accomplished
his desire easily, without any circumlocutions or
artifices, smoothing all difficulties by the veil of marriage,
although his advanced years were, he could not conceal
from himself, rather against it. His ideas were participated
in and urged on by the artful Zenotia, with whom he arranged
and agreed that before he gave Periander another
audience, their plan should be put in execution. This was,
to have a feigned alarm raised in the city, in which the palace
should be set on fire in two or three places, which would
force its inmates to seek for shelter, and throw everybody
into confusion, in the midst of which, Auristella and the
young Antonio were to be carried off by persons prepared
on purpose, and the lady Polycarpa was directed to warn
Arnoldo and Periander of the danger which threatened
them, without discovering the intention of a robbery, but
showing them a way to save themselves by getting to the
shore, where in the harbour they would find a small vessel
ready, in which they might make their escape.
The night on which this was to happen, arrived, and at
three o'clock in the morning the alarm began, which threw
the whole city into confusion and terror. The flames began
to blaze out, only equalled by those burning in the
royal breast. Meanwhile the princess went calmly and
composedly to warn Arnoldo and Periander of the designs
of her treacherous and enamoured father, which, however,
she did not reveal to the full extent of his dishonourable intentions.
Arnoldo and Periander on hearing it, called Auristella,
Maurice, Transila, Ladislaus, the two Antonios, Ricla,
Constance, and Rutilio, and thanking Polycarpa for her
advice, they assembled their little party, and putting the
men in front, went as she had counselled them to do, and
made their way to the harbour without any interruption,
where they embarked instantly on board the little vessel,
the master and pilot of which had been prepared, and paid
beforehand by the king to set sail the moment the persons
arrived, who seemed intending to take to flight, and not to
stop till they reached England, or some other yet more
distant place.
Amid the continued cries of "To arms! to arms!" and
the shouts of the crowd assembled at the fire, which blazed
as though it knew it had the full permission of the master
of the palace to do its utmost, Polycarp went forth secretly
to look after the theft he meditated—the carrying off Auristella,—and
the sorceress Zenotia as anxiously watched
for the accomplishment of hers—the detention of Antonio;
but finding that all the party had made their escape, and
that not one was left behind, orders were given to all the
batteries, and to all the ships that were in the harbour, to
fire at the little vessel which was seen taking to flight. This
only added to the uproar and confusion, and terror of the
inhabitants of the town, who could not divine or imagine
what enemies were assailing them, or what all this frightful
clamour could mean.
Meanwhile the love-sick maiden Sinforosa, who was utterly
ignorant of the cause of all this disturbance, made her
way with hurried and trembling steps to the top of one of the
highest towers in the palace, which seemed likely to be safe
from the fire that was consuming the rest of the building.
Her sister Polycarpa went to shut herself up with her, and
then she told her how their guests had fled; on hearing
this news, Sinforosa fainted away, which made Polycarpa
repent of what she had done.
Morning dawned at last—welcome to those who hoped
to discover with the daylight the cause of the calamity,—but
in the bosom of King Polycarp was darkest night, and
the deepest sadness that can be imagined. Zenotia wrung
her hands, and cursed her deceiving art, and the promises
of her accursed masters. Poor Sinforosa still lay in her
swoon, whilst her sister wept over her and lamented her
sorrows, but continued to use every effort to restore her to
life and sense. At last she revived, and casting her eyes towards
the sea, she saw the vessel which bore away the other
half of her soul, or at least its better part, and like another
Dido deceived and abandoned, complaining of another fugitive
Eneas, she sighed, wept, and cried aloud in such
words as these; "O lovely guest, who hast come to these
shores for my misfortune; thou hast never deceived me, it
is true, for I have never been happy enough to hear words
of love from thee that might have beguiled me; Oh, that
I could slacken thy sails, and arrest thy speed, so that
these eyes might yet a little longer space behold thy ship,
the very sight of which is consolation, since it containeth
thee. Alas! my lord, thou fliest from one who would fain
follow thee. Thou hatest one who adores thee; I who
am daughter of a king, would gladly be thy slave. The
flames that burn this city, if thou wouldst return, might
serve as an illumination to show our joy; I have riches
safely placed where the fire cannot touch them, for Heaven
will preserve them for thee." Then she would turn to
her sister, and say, "Dost not thou think, my Polycarpa,
that the ship slackens in her course? Seemeth it not to
thee that she sails less swiftly? Ah, Heavens! if he should
have repented."
"Alas, my sister," answered Polycarpa, "deceive not
thyself, our wishes often go hand in hand with delusions.
The ship sails on, and thy desires have no power to detain
her as thou thinkest, but rather the breath of thy continual
sighing impels her on her way."
And now came unto them the king, who, like his daughter,
wished to gaze from the high tower upon the vessel
which was bearing away, not half, but all his heart's delight.
She was, however, no longer visible. Those who had
lit up the conflagration by his orders had now to extinguish
it. The citizens learnt the cause of the disturbance, and
the folly of their sovereign, also the evil counsels and intrigues
of the sorceress Zenotia. On that same day they
deposed him from the throne, and condemned her to be
hanged. Sinforosa and Polycarpa were treated with the
same respect as before, and their fortunes were equal to
their merits, although Sinforosa did not obtain the happiness
she sought, for higher still was the fortune that awaited
Periander.
Meanwhile the fugitives on board the little vessel finding
themselves all safe together and free, were never weary of
returning thanks to Heaven for their successful escape.
They were informed afterwards of the treacherous designs
of Polycarp, but the horror they felt at his treason was
not so great but that they could find some excuse for him,
in that it had been caused by love,—love which forms the
excuse of so many errors, since when once that passion
gains entire possession of a heart, no power can restrain it,
and it sets all reason at defiance.
The weather was fine, and though the wind was fresh,
the sea was tranquil. They steered their course for England,
where they intended to decide upon what plan would
be best for them to pursue, and their voyage was so peaceful
and prosperous, that no fear or suspicion of evil came
across them. For three days this calm endured, and during
three days the wind was fair, but on the fourth, it began
to blow hard, and the sea to rage, so that the mariners
feared a great tempest was at hand. The uncertainty of
life is well typified by the sea, in each we cannot promise
ourselves security or endurance in anything long; however,
it pleased Heaven that just when they were beginning to be
alarmed, they perceived that they were near an island,
which the mariners immediately knew, and said, that it
was called "The Hermit's Isle," and that it possessed two
bays capable of sheltering twenty vessels and more, from
all winds; they were, in fact, as good as harbours. They
added, moreover, that in one of the hermitages there lived
a hermit, who had once been a French gentleman of good
family, called Renato; and that in the other hermitage lived
a French lady, called Eusebia, and that the history of these
two persons was one of the most remarkable ever heard of.
A curiosity to see these hermits joined to the necessity
of sheltering from the storm, made all desirous of going directly
to the island; they, therefore, steered for it straight,
and entered one of the little bays, where they anchored unquestioned
by anybody; and Arnoldo having ascertained
that the isle contained no inhabitants except the hermits alluded
to, ordered the boat to be made ready to land Auristella,
and the others who were much fatigued with their
voyage, and also Maurice, Rutilio, and Periander, who
thought it would be best for them to pass the night on
shore, that they might rest in peace after the motion of the
waves. It was also agreed that Antonio and his son, and
Ladislaus, should remain in the ship, as they had not as yet
had sufficient experience of the mariners to know if they
were to be trusted implicitly; it was therefore decided that
they should stay with the seamen, to whom no land is so
pleasant as the planks of their ship, and sweeter to them is
the scent of oil and fish, pitch and tar, than to others
would be the odours of the most fragrant flowers of the
garden.
Under a rock, sheltered from the wind, they settled themselves
for the night, making a fire with some branches and bits
of wood they found about, to keep themselves warm; and all
the party being pretty well accustomed to such shifts as
these, past the night pleasantly enough, and the more so, as
Periander, being urged by Transila to take this opportunity
of concluding his story, and her entreaty followed up by
the general voice, went on in the following words.
CHAPTER XIX.
Of the kind Reception they met with in the Isle of Hermits.
"If it be true, as I think it is, that we find a
pleasure in listening to the storm without,
when we are comfortably sheltered at home;
and in recalling the perils of the past battle
in times of peace; or in health, remembering
our late weakness; then is it sweet to me to tell of all my wanderings
and troubles in this calm and peaceful place of rest,
where, although I may not as yet consider that I am quite
free from care, I may say I am enjoying repose for the present:
and happy in feeling this, I will now return to tell
you about the ship wherein I was left with our conquered
enemies, and where I learnt, as I have already told you, the
particulars of how my sister and Clelia, and the two fishermen's
brides, had been sold to the prince Arnoldo here
present.
"Whilst my people were busily investigating and weighing
the provisions that were in the icebound vessel, I perceived
that on the side nearest the land, a body of armed
men, about perhaps four thousand in number, was approaching;
a sight such as this left us even more frozen than
that icy sea. We prepared our arms, but more that we
might stand up like men, than with any thought of defending
ourselves. They moved along the ice only on one foot,
giving with the right a touch against the left heel, and
thereby impelling their bodies, and sliding with the other
over the sea for a long space, and then immediately renewing
the blow again, made another slide for a great distance,
in which manner of travelling they were with us speedily,
and soon surrounded us on every side. One of the party
who was, as I afterwards learnt, the commander of the
party, came near enough to the ship to make himself heard
by us, and announced that they came with peaceable intentions,
by displaying a white flag, which he carried on his
arm: he spoke in a loud voice in the Polish tongue, and
said, 'Cratilius, King of Lithuania, and lord of these seas,
has a custom, which is to dispatch armed men to all those
ships that are detained in the ice, and to take from them
the persons and merchandise that they contain, repaying
himself for the kindness by taking the latter for his own;
if you choose to accept this arrangement without resistance,
you shall enjoy both your liberty and your lives, for we
have no wish to take you prisoners.'
"The brevity and determination of his manner pleased
me. I replied, 'that I must take counsel with my people,'
and my fishermen said, 'that of all evils the worst and the
last was to lose one's life, which we must preserve by all
the means we could devise, unless it were by infamy, and
that, as in the terms now offered, there was none, and that
on the other hand, we were certain of losing our lives, as
to defend them was more than doubtful; it would be best
to submit to the misfortune that pursued us, since we might
thus be preserved for a happier fate at some future time.' I
returned pretty nearly all this answer to the commander of
the squadron, and in an instant they assailed the ship, in a
way that had certainly more the appearance of war than
peace. She was completely gutted in a very short time,
and all that she had contained, even to the guns and rigging,
was transferred to some ox-hides, which they spread
upon the ice, and then tying them securely together, they
drew them along by means of ropes, without losing a single
article; in a similar manner they plundered our own ship,
and then, placing us upon some other hides, they set up a
loud shout of rejoicing, and drew us all along with them to
land, which might be perhaps about twenty miles distant.
To me it did appear truly wonderful, and a sight to see so
many people travelling over the surface of the water, without
any trouble, and without any miracle.
"That evening we reached the shore, where we remained
until the following morning, when we found it
thronged with a multitude of persons, who were come to
look at the prize of the frozen and petrified ships. Among
them, mounted upon a beautiful horse, was the King Cratilius:
we easily recognized him to be so by the insignia
of royalty that adorned him; by his side, also mounted on
horseback, was a very handsome woman, arrayed in white
armour, which was nearly covered by a large black veil.
She attracted my attention by her appearance, as also did
the noble and gallant bearing of the king, and looking at
her attentively, I knew her to be the beautiful Sulpicia,
who had so lately been restored to the liberty she now enjoyed
by the courtesy of my companions. The king came
up to us to look at the persons who had been brought from
the ships, and the captain taking me by the hand, brought
me forward, and said, 'In this young man alone, O noble
king, I present to you what appears to me the richest prize
that human eyes have ever seen.'
"'Merciful Heaven!' here exclaimed the fair Sulpicia,
springing from her horse to the ground, 'either I cannot
see aright, or this is my deliverer Periander!' and so saying,
she threw her arms round my neck, and closely embraced
me, at which extraordinary demonstrations of affection,
Cratilius thought himself obliged to dismount also,
and to greet me with the same tokens of pleasure. Until
now all hope of anything like good fortune had been lost
by my poor companions; but at the sight of all this joyful
reception which they now witnessed, they took courage; joy
beamed from their eyes, and from their lips came words of
gratitude to God for this unexpected happiness.
"Then Sulpicia said to Cratilius, 'In this youth, sire, you
see one in whom an excess of courtesy and generosity
dwells supreme, and although I have learned this by my
own experience, I wish you to believe it to be true by the
very nobleness of his appearance. (In this you will perceive
she only spoke like a very grateful person, and deceived
herself.) It was he who did not despise, but would not
take my treasures. He received my gifts to return them to
me with a kindness that made them doubly valuable: if he
could he would have given me more. It was he who
knew how to dispose his people's minds, so that his will
was theirs. He bestowed twelve of them upon me, who
are even now accompanying me, and I have them here before
thee.' You will easily believe that my cheeks burned
with blushes at these praises, so extravagant and unmerited.
I could do no more than bend my knee before the king,
asking leave to kiss his hand; he gave it, but not for that
purpose, only to raise me from the ground.
"Meanwhile the twelve fishermen who had gone to
guard Sulpicia, went amongst the crowd to seek for their
former companions, embracing one another, and joyfully
recounting each their tale of bad and good fortune; the
sea party exaggerating their frost, the land party their
riches. One said, 'The lady Sulpicia has given me this
chain of gold;' another, 'And I have got a jewel, worth
two of your chains.' 'She has given me heaps of money,'
cried a third; whilst another declared that he had a diamond
ring which was of more value than all the rest put
together: but all these discourses were stopped by a noise
that was heard in the crowd, which was caused by a very
magnificent wild horse, whose bridle was held by two
grooms, who could not succeed in taming him; he was
jet black, with white spots, which made him singularly
beautiful. He was without a saddle, for he would not suffer
any one to saddle him but the king; however, this submission
lasted only till it was put on, for he placed a thousand
impediments in the way of mounting him, which vexed the
king greatly, and he would willingly have given a whole
city to anybody who could cure him of his vicious habits.
All this was told me briefly by the king, and I as quickly
made up my mind to do what I am going to tell you."
At this part of Periander's story, Arnoldo heard a sound
on the other side of the rock where they had sheltered
themselves, like footsteps approaching; he rose hastily and
put his hand on the hilt of his sword, to be prepared for
the event. Periander was silent; the women were silenced
with fear; the men in eager expectation, especially Periander,
awaited the result, and by the faint light of the
moon, which was partly hid by clouds, they saw two dark
figures coming towards them, but could not distinguish
what these could be, when a clear and pleasing voice said,
"Let not our unexpected visit alarm you, whoever you
may be, we only come to offer you our services; this
apartment of yours is but a cold and rude accommodation,
and we think we can afford you a somewhat better shelter
in our dwelling, which is at the top of this hill; there you
will at least have light and fire and food, which, though
simple, will refresh you, and be wholesome and good."
"Are you then by chance, Renato and Eusebia?" inquired
Periander; "that pair of true and faithful lovers of
whom fame, with her many tongues, has said so much and
praised so highly?"
"If," replied the dark figure, "you had said, the unfortunate
lovers, I should have answered that we are those
persons; however, we are those of whom you spoke,
and offer sincerely all the hospitality our narrow means
afford."
Arnoldo thought it would be wise to accept their offer,
since there was every appearance of rough weather; they
all therefore rose, and following Renato and Eusebia, who
acted as their guides, reached the summit of a small mountain,
or hill rather, where they saw two hermitages, more
suitable for persons who were to pass their lives in poverty
than attractive by their elegance or rich adornment.
They entered the first dwelling and the largest, which
was lighted with two lamps, by the aid of which they could
distinguish what was within; this was, an altar, with three
images thereon: one was, the image of the Saviour of the
World dead and crucified; another was the Queen of
Heaven, and Lady of Joy, seated sorrowfully at the feet of
Him who has the whole world under his feet; and the
third was of the beloved disciple, who in his sleep saw
more than any eyes will ever behold, though they were
more numerous than the stars of Heaven.
They knelt and said a prayer with profound respect, and
then Renato led them into an adjoining apartment, to
which they entered through a door that was close to the
altar. Finally, since such simple matters do not need a long
history, I will not dwell upon all that passed, nor on the
frugal supper which was plentiful only in the ample welcome
they received from the hermits, whose poverty was
too apparent from the mean and humble clothing they
wore: they seemed to be on the verge of old age, yet still
there might be seen in Eusebia the remains of beauty,
which must once have been very great.
Auristella, Transila, and Constance, remained in this
apartment, where beds were prepared for them of dry
rushes and sweet smelling herbs. The men were accommodated
in the hermitage in different places,—some as hard
as they were cold, and as cold as they were hard. Time
passed as it usually does—the night flew by, and the day
dawned clear and mild; the sea lay before them so calm
and still that it seemed as if inviting them to return and enjoy
it by embarking once more, and this they would doubtless
have done, if the pilot had not come up to say, it would
not do to trust to the signs of fine weather, for though the
present promise was fair, he thought it would turn out
quite otherwise.
They determined to abide by his opinion, for they well
knew that in such matters the simplest mariner is better
skilled than the most learned philosopher in the world.
The ladies left their herby beds, the men their hard resting-place,
and all sallied forth to view from the summit of
the hill the smiling prospect that lay around them. The
little island was hardly twelve miles in length, but so full
of fruit trees, so well watered, so verdant, and so flowery,
that in one and the same moment all the five senses might
be gratified.
The day was not far advanced when the two venerable
hermits came to see their guests, and spreading upon the
floor of the hermitage green and dry rushes, they made a
carpet, more beautiful, perhaps, than may often be seen in
kings' palaces. They placed thereon a great variety of
fruits, both fresh and dried, and bread, not very newly-baked,
but almost like biscuit. The board was adorned
with vases or cups, made of cork, curiously worked, filled
with the clearest water; the repast and the pure water, which
showed its clearness even in spite of the dark hue of the
cork cups, aided by hunger, made them all gladly seat themselves
round the table; and as soon as they had finished their
short and pleasant meal, Arnoldo entreated Renato to tell
them his history, and what could be the cause of his being
brought to such a life of poverty and privation. Now, as
Renato was of noble birth, to which order courtesy ever belongs,
he, without waiting to be asked a second time, began
to relate the history of his life in these words.
CHAPTER XX.
Renato relates the History of the Events that led him to the
Isle of the Hermitages.
"When past sufferings are described in present
prosperity, there is often greater pleasure in
telling of them than there was pain in their
endurance, but this cannot be said in my case,
for I am not out of the trouble, but still in
the depth of my sorrows.
"I was born in France, and I belong to a noble family,
rich and worthy; I was brought up in the performance of
all knightly exercises, and taught to regulate my thoughts
by my condition; but nevertheless, I was bold enough to
fix them upon the lady Eusebia, a lady belonging to the
queen's household, but it was only with my eyes that
I ever gave her to understand that I adored her, and she,
either from prudence or because she was not aware of it,
never let me think, by word or look, that she understood
me; and although disdain and indifference generally put an
end to love, in its beginning for want of hope to sustain and
feed it, in my case it had a contrary effect, for the silence
of Eusebia lent wings to my hopes, which bore me up to
the very Heavens to try and deserve her. However, the
jealousy or undue curiosity of another gentleman, also a
Frenchman, named Lisomir, not less favoured by fortune
than by birth, discovered my secret feelings, and instead of
viewing them with sympathy or pity, he felt nothing but
envy and malice. It should have been quite otherwise,
for there are two great griefs in love, which reduce one to
the last extremity; one is, to love and not be beloved in return;
the other, to love and be abhorred; neither absence
nor jealousy can equal these. One day Lisomir went to
the king, though I had never given him any cause of offence,
and told him that I and Eusebia entertained a secret and
illicit correspondence, offending against their majesties, and
against my vow as a loyal and true knight.
"The king on hearing this was greatly disturbed; he sent
for me and told me what Lisomir had said; I declared my
innocence, and to prove it, and clear the honour of Eusebia,
and also as the most suitable way in which to give my enemy
the lie, I referred the proof to single combat. The king
would not allow any spot of ground to be selected in his
kingdom for our purpose, because it was forbidden by the
Catholic law, but he allowed us to take one of the free cities
of Germany as the scene of our encounter.
"The appointed day for the combat arrived; I appeared
on the spot, with the weapons that had been determined
upon, which were a sword and a shield. The judges and
the seconds arranged the ceremonial according to the usual
custom in such cases. The ground was measured, and they
left us. Knowing that I had the right on my side, I entered
the lists, confident and in good heart; my adversary,
I well know, met me more full of pride and arrogance than
of a good conscience. But O ye inscrutable ways of Providence;
I did my utmost; I put my hope and trust in
God, and in the innocence of my cause, I was neither overcome
by fear, nor was my arm weak, nor were its motions
irregular; yet how it was I know not; I suddenly found
myself on the ground, with my enemy's sword threatening
me with instant death. 'Strike,' I exclaimed, 'O thou
who hast conquered more by luck than valour, and let
loose the soul that has so ill defended the body in which it
dwells; but hope not that I am subdued, or that I shall
confess a crime I have never committed. Many are the
sins for which I deserve punishment, but I will not add to
them by bearing false witness against myself; better far,
death with honour, than to live dishonoured.'
"'If thou dost not yield, Renato,' answered my enemy,
'this sword shall pierce thy brain, and with thy blood I
will make thee confess my truth and thy guilt.'
"But here the judges interfered, and supposing me dead,
they declared my adversary conqueror. He was borne by
his friends in triumph from the field, and I was left alone
with my shame and my sorrow; more grief than wounds,
and yet not grief enough, since it was insufficient to destroy
the life my enemy's sword had spared.
"I was sought out and removed by my servants; I returned
to my own country, not daring to raise my eyes from
the earth, so heavy was the sense of my dishonour, and the
weight of my infamy: in the looks of my friends I fancied
I read their condemnation; the Heavens themselves seemed
obscured for me. Hardly could two or three neighbours
meet to chat together in the street, but I fancied their discourse
must be about my disgrace; and at length I grew so
oppressed with melancholy and my sad fancies, that to escape
from, or at least alleviate their bitterness, I determined
to quit my native land, and renouncing my inheritance in
favour of a younger brother, to banish myself entirely from
my native country and home. I went away in a vessel,
with a few servants, and came to these northern parts, to
seek some spot where the story of my shameful defeat
should be unknown, and where my name might be buried
in obscurity.
"By chance I found this little isle—its appearance pleased
me; with the assistance of my servants I built this hermitage,
and shut myself up in it; I then dismissed them,
but desired that once in each year they would come and see
me, in order to bury my remains. The love they bore me,
and the gifts which I bestowed on them, made them willingly
obey my requests, for I will not call them commands.
They departed, and left me to my solitude, wherein I found
such pleasant company in these trees, herbs, and flowers,
clear streams, and babbling brooks, that I lamented I had
not sooner escaped from my sorrows. O sweet solitude!
friend of the unhappy! O silence, how welcome art thou,
without fear of the voice of the flatterer, or the slanderer.
How much could I not say, sirs, in favour of this holy solitude
and wholesome silence; but I must stop myself to tell
you, how in a year my servants returned, and brought with
them my adored Eusebia, whom you see in this sister hermit.
She had heard from my servants of the retreat which I had
found; and in recompense for my love, and compassion
for my disgrace, she resolved to bear me company in my
trouble, as we had both been innocent of all guilt, and had
not been companions in crime: so embarking with them,
she left her home and her country, her wealth and comforts,
and what was more than all, she left her good name and
honour to become the public talk, since by her flight she
confirmed the report of our mutual fault.
"I received her as she had hoped I should, and the
beauty and solitude of this place, instead of increasing those
wishes and thoughts I had once indulged, had now a contrary
effect. Thanks to Heaven, and to her purity and goodness,
we consider ourselves as lawfully husband and wife,
and in peace and love; like two living statues, have we
dwelt here for ten years, during which time, not one has passed
without a visit from my servants, bringing us the necessaries
which in this desert place we require; and sometimes they
are accompanied by a priest, who confesses us. We have in
our hermitage everything proper for celebrating the holy
offices; we sleep apart, take our meals together, and converse
upon heavenly things, despise the world, and, trusting
in God's mercy, we look forward with hope to life eternal."
Here Renato ended his discourse, and all his hearers expressed
their pleasure and admiration at the incidents he
had related, not because it seemed a new thing that Heaven
should send chastisements contrary to human expectations,
since they knew that these are sent frequently for two
causes;—to the wicked as punishment, and to improve and
try the good, amongst whom they considered Renato, and
bestowed on him many kind and consolatory words, nor
did they omit to do the same by Eusebia.
"O life of solitude!" here exclaimed Rutilio, (who had
listened to the hermit's story with most profound attention,)
"O solitary life; holy, free, and safe, are they who embrace
thee, choose thee, and enjoy thee!"
"True, friend Rutilio," said Maurice, "but only in
certain cases, for there is no great marvel if a humble shepherd
retires into the solitude of the country; nor when a
poor wretch, who is half starved in a town, takes refuge in
a retreat where he knows he shall find sustenance. These
ways of living are often only a means of fostering idleness
and sloth, and it is no small idleness if a man leaves his
troubles to be remedied by others. If I were to see a
Carthaginian Hannibal leave the world to shut himself up
in a hermitage, as we have seen a Charles the Fifth retire
into a monastery, I should feel astonishment and admiration;
but if a plebeian goes into obscurity, or a poor unknown being
retires from society, I neither wonder nor admire. However,
Renato is not one of these, since it was neither poverty
nor necessity that led him into these solitudes, but
his own good feelings; here he finds in scarcity, abundance,
and in solitude, society, and lives the more securely, having
but little to lose."
"And," added Periander, "if I was old instead of very
young, so many perils and dangers have been my share,
that I should look upon a peaceful hermitage as the extreme
of felicity, and in the tomb of silence to bury my name;
but I cannot relinquish the object for which I have hitherto
lived, nor change the mode of life I was following at the
time when the horse of King Cratilius appeared, where my
history left off last."
They heard him say this with great delight, for they perceived
by his manner that Periander was willing to return
to his so oft begun and never ended story, which in fact he
did, as follows.
CHAPTER XXI.
He relates what happened with the Horse that Cratilius
valued so highly, and which was so far famed.
"The size, beauty, and spirit of the horse I have
before described, made Cratilius value him
very highly, and as desirous of having him
tamed as I was to seize the opportunity of
doing him a service; I thought that this was
a fair means sent by Providence, through which I might
make myself useful and agreeable in the eyes of him who
was now my Master, and in some degree show that I deserved
the praise bestowed on me by Sulpicia; and so, with
more haste than prudence I went up to the horse, and leapt
upon his back, without placing my foot in the stirrup, for
there was none to use. He started off with me without
any power in the rein to direct or restrain him, and made
his way towards a rock that overhung the sea; urging him
on with my feet much against his wish, I made him leap
off the rock into the sea below.[K]
"In the midst of our flight, it occurred to me that the
sea was frozen, and therefore we should in all probability
be dashed to pieces with the shock, so I considered my
death and his as certain; but it was not so;—providence,
that for its own good reasons watches over and preserves
me, was my guard. The limbs of the powerful animal
withstood the fall without any other damage than shaking
me off, and rolling along the slippery surface for a considerable
space. There was not a single person among the spectators
on the shore who did not fully believe and think that
I must be killed; but when they saw me rise up, although
they thought the event a miracle, yet they considered my
daring act to have been downright madness."
Very hard it was to old Maurice, to lend his belief to
this tremendous leap of Periander's, so much did it go beyond
all the bounds of probability; at least, he thought,
there should have been three or four legs broken, that the
courtesy of the hearers might not have been so severely
tried in listening to so very outrageous a performance.
However, so great was the credit which Periander had
with them all, that they did not even express a doubt, for
as it is one of the inconveniences of lying, that even when
a liar speaks truth he is not believed, so it is the glory of
the truth-teller to be credited, even when he exaggerates a
little; and as Maurice's private thoughts did not interfere
with the discourse, Periander went on, saying, "I returned
to shore with the horse—I even mounted him again—and
tried to incite him a second time to renew the feat he
had just performed, but it was impossible, for, fixing himself
firmly on his haunches on the point of the rock, he
broke the reins, remaining as if nailed to the ground. He
was covered with a profuse sweat from head to foot, and so
thoroughly frightened, that he was changed from a lion into
a lamb, and from a savage beast into a noble horse, so that
when the grooms came to handle him, they found that they
could caparison and mount him, and ride him with the most
entire security, and he showed such activity and such perfect
paces, that the king was quite enchanted, and Sulpicia
was pleased to see my actions support her words.
"The frost lasted three months, and during this time a
vessel was finished building which the king had begun, and
which was intended to navigate these seas, and clear them
of the pirates, enriching himself with the spoil.
"In the meantime I was of service to him in various
hunting parties, when I proved myself experienced and sagacious,
and hardy in bearing fatigue and hardships, for the
chase is something like war, and to it belong fatigue, hunger,
and thirst, sometimes even death. The liberality of
the Princess Sulpicia was unbounded to me and my companions,
and the kindness and courtesy of the king equalled
it. The twelve fishermen who had gone with Sulpicia were
already rich; those who had been with me were become
so. The ship was finished, and by the king's orders it was
amply supplied with everything necessary, and I was appointed
to command it, with free liberty to do exactly what
I pleased; so after having kissed his hands for this very great
benefit, I told him that I wished to obtain his leave to go
and seek for my sister Auristella, who, as I had heard, was
in the power of the King of Denmark. Cratilius gave me
permission to do all I wished, saying that I had obliged him
for ever by my good conduct; thus speaking like a king
whose gracious acts are always enhanced by affability, and
in Sulpicia also I found the same: her gentle breeding was
accompanied by the most lavish generosity, so that I and
all my people, enriched and well content, embarked without
leaving a single one behind. Our first course was
straight to Denmark, where I hoped to find my sister, but
all I found there, was the intelligence that she and some
other women had been stolen away from the sea-shore by
some pirates. Thus my wanderings were to begin anew,
and my grief and lamentations renewed, in which I was
joined by Carino and Solercio, who imagined that their
young wives shared the fate and captivity of Auristella."
"Their suspicions," said Arnoldo, interrupting him,
"were well founded."
"We swept all these seas," continued Periander, "circumnavigated
nearly every island round about, everywhere
inquiring for tidings of my sister. It seemed to me, and
doubtless may be thought of every great beauty, that charms
such as hers could not remain long concealed, and that the
light of her loveliness must shine out, let the place where
she was confined be ever so dark; and her exceeding great
prudence, I trusted, would be the clue whereby to extricate
her from any labyrinth.
"We took pirates, released prisoners, restored property
fourfold to the right owners, and also enriched our own
ship with all sorts of wealth. At length my companions
felt a wish to return home to their nets and families; Carino
and Solercio fancied that it was possible they might find their
wives there, since they were to be discovered nowhere else.
Before this, however, we had come to the island, the name
of which is, I believe, Scinta, where we heard of the festival
and games given by King Polycarp, and we felt a desire
to join in them, but our ship could not get near, owing
to the contrary wind; so dressing ourselves as rowers, we
manned the boat, and went off to the appointed place.
There I won the prizes; there I was crowned as victor in
all the contests, and thence sprang Sinforosa's curiosity to
know who I was, as you have seen by the eagerness with
which she sought to discover my history. We returned to
our ship, and my companions were resolved to leave me;
I asked them to let me keep the boat as a reward for all the
perils we had encountered together. They would have
given me the ship too if I had wished it, and said, 'They
would not have left me, but that it seemed my own desire
to be alone;' in fine, accompanied by six of my fishermen,
who would not quit me, perhaps in consequence of the recompense
I offered them, I embarked in the boat they had
given me—embraced and bade adieu to my friends—and
steered towards the barbarous isle, for I had heard the account
of the customs of its inhabitants, and of the false and
foolish prophecy by which they were deluded, which I need
not repeat, as you already know it. We crossed the island,
were taken prisoners and thrown into the dungeon, where
their captives were buried alive. I was one day dragged
from it, in order to be sacrificed; then followed the tempest,
which dispersed the rafts they used as boats, and drove me
out into the open sea on a portion of one of them, tied
hand and foot, and fast-bound to it. Then I fell into the
compassionate hands of Prince Arnoldo; and afterwards,
by his order, I went ashore again to the island, disguised,
that I might discover if Auristella was there, he being then
ignorant that she was my sister; and there I found her,
just about to be sacrificed, the barbarians supposing her to
be a man: I knew her, and prevented her death, by declaring
her to be a female, as Clelia told you. As to the
history of how they got there, that she herself must relate
when it pleases her. All that afterwards befell us in the
island is well-known to you; and now with this and what
my sister has still to tell, you will rest satisfied with having
heard all that you desired to know of our adventures."
Sinibald, Renato's brother, arrives with good news from
France. He comes to convey Renato and Eusebia home,
and takes in his Ship, Arnoldo, Maurice, Transila, and
Ladislaus. In the other vessel, Periander, Auristella, the
two Antonios, Ricla, and Constance, embark for Spain,
and Rutilio remains behind in the Hermitage.
I do not know that I can positively affirm
that Maurice, and some others among his
hearers, were glad when Periander came to
the end of his history; but very often those
extremely long stories, although they may be
of great importance, are nevertheless somewhat tiresome.
It is even possible that Auristella was herself of this opinion,
for she was not disposed to follow up his hint and begin
the story of her adventures, although they could not have
been many between the period of her being carried off from
Arnoldo, and her being discovered by Periander in the barbarous
isle, yet still she wished to wait for some other opportunity;
and as it happened, she would have been prevented
if she had wished it, for a ship in full sail appeared
in the open sea, evidently making for the island; and very
soon she had entered one of the little bays already described,
and was recognized by Renato, who said, "This, sirs, is
the ship in which my servants and friends occasionally visit
me;" and, in fact, they heard the singing out of the seamen,
as they let go their anchor, and a boat full of people directly
after left the ship, and made for the shore, where Renato
and all his guests were awaiting them. About twenty persons
landed, among whom was one of noble appearance,
who seemed master of the rest. As soon as he saw Renato,
he came up to him with open arms, saying, "Embrace me,
brother, in reward for the good news I bring you!" Renato
embraced him, for he had recognised his brother Sinibald,
and he said, "No news can be pleasanter to me, dear brother,
than your presence, for there is nothing that can give me
joy in my unhappy situation, only the sight of thee is always
an exception to the common rule of my misfortunes." Sinibald
then turned to embrace Eusebia, saying, "You too,
lady, must permit me to embrace you, for you also owe me
a reward for the news I bring, and I will delay no longer
telling you what it is, to put you out of suspense. Know,
then, that your enemy is dead, of an illness, which deprived
him for several days of speech, but Heaven mercifully restored
it for a few hours before he died, during which space
he expressed a deep repentance, and confessed the sin he
had committed of having falsely accused you. He confessed
that envy and jealousy were the cause, and finally made all
the declarations possible to avow his crime. He said it was
owing to the hidden secrets of Providence that his unjust
cause had gained the victory over your good one, and was
not satisfied only with this spoken confession, but had a
written declaration and acknowledgment made, which he
signed; and when this became known to the king, he also
had a similar instrument published, openly declaring your
innocence and untarnished honour, and also acknowledging
Eusebia's perfect innocence and purity. He then gave
orders to have you sought for, and when found, to bring
you into his presence, that he might try and make you some
amends for all you have suffered, by ample and magnificent
bounties. If these are tidings likely to give you pleasure or
no, I leave to your own consideration."
"They are such," said Arnoldo, "that nothing else in
life can surpass, nor any acquisition of the most unhoped for
riches approach; for honour lost, and so fully and perfectly
restored, is a blessing the whole earth can never offer the
equal of. May you, my lord Renato, enjoy it for many
long years, and may the peerless Eusebia enjoy it with you,
like the ivy to the wall, the mirror of your delight and the
pattern of virtue and excellence."
Then all the others, though in different words, paid the
like compliments to the hermits, and afterwards proceeded
to inquire what news there was in Europe, or in other
places, which they, having been so long on the seas, were
ignorant of.
Sinibald answered, "That the news most talked of was,
the calamity which threatened the old King of Denmark,
by means of the King of Norway, and other allies who
favoured him." He also told how people murmured that
by the absence of the Prince Arnoldo, the heir of Denmark,
his father was in danger of losing his crown. It was said
of the prince, that he was fluttering, butterfly-like, in the
sunshine of the bright eyes of some fair captive of his, so
utterly unknown as to family and birth, that no one knew
whose daughter she was. He told also of wars in Transylvania,
and of some movements made by the Turks, the
common enemy of the human race. He also gave an account
of the glorious death[L] of Charles the Fifth, King of
Spain, and Emperor of the Romans,—the terror of all the
enemies of the church, and dread of the followers of Mahomet.
Other matters he spoke of, more trifling, some
amusing, and some surprising, all of which gave great satisfaction
to everybody except the pensive Arnoldo, who, from
the moment that he heard of his father's trouble, sat with
his cheek resting in his hand, and his eyes fixed on the
ground. After remaining in this attitude for a considerable
space, he raised his eyes from the earth and looked up towards
Heaven, saying aloud, "O love! O honour! O filial
duty! what a struggle ye make within my soul! Love, if
I depart and leave thee, can I be forgiven? Honour, ought
I to cease to follow thee, because I love. Thou, O my
father, desirest my return, and ye, my vassals, expect me;
for love does not render a man a coward, nor will I prove
myself one in defending you, although I am the most
enamoured of all mortal men. For my peerless Auristella's
sake I go to regain that which is mine own; for being a
king I may seem more deserving of her than I can hope to
be simply as a lover. The poor suitor unfavoured by fortune's
gifts, has little chance; as a king I may pretend to
her, as a king I may serve her, as a simple lover I can only
adore her; but should I fail with all united to win her, I
shall blame my own ill fate, and not her."
All the bystanders were much surprised at hearing these
words from Arnoldo; but the most astonished of them was
Sinibald. Maurice had told him that this was the Prince
of Denmark, and had pointed out Auristella as the captive
by whom he was said to be enslaved. Sinibald looked more
particularly at her, and instantly decided that what had been
called madness, in Arnoldo, was very good sense, for the
beauty of Auristella, as I have often said before, was such,
that it won the hearts of everybody who looked upon it,
and therein found sufficient excuse for every fault or folly
committed for her sake.
It was now decided that Renato and Eusebia should return
to France, and take Arnoldo with them in their vessel,
to leave him in his own country. He wished Maurice,
Transila, and Ladislaus, to go with him, and that Periander
and Auristella, the two Antonios, and Ricla and Constance
should proceed to Spain in the vessel they had come in, and
continue their voyage as they had desired. Rutilio was expecting
to hear to which division he should belong; but before
anything was settled, he went up to Renato, and kneeling
before him, entreated that he would make him heir to
his property in this island, and permit him to stay behind
there, in order that there might never fail one to tend the
light, which served as a guide to mariners: for here it was
his wish to end well, a life that had hitherto not been a very
good one. His Christian-like petition met with a general
approval, and the good Renato, who was as kind as he was
generous, granted all he desired, saying that he only wished
the property he left was of more value, seeing it consisted
only of the necessaries of life.
Arnoldo promised that if he found things tolerably peaceful
in his own country, he would send a ship yearly to his
assistance. Rutilio would fain have thrown himself at the
feet of his protectors and friends, but they would not suffer
it, and embraced him; many of them even wept to see the
pious disposition of the new hermit, for although we may not
be ourselves prepared to lead new lives and amend our ways,
it nevertheless gives us pleasure to see others do so, unless
our stubbornness has arrived at such a pitch that we desire
to see all fall into the same abyss as ourselves.
Two days were spent in arranging and preparing for the
voyages, and at the final parting they all took affectionate farewells
of one another, especially Arnoldo, Periander, and Auristella:
although there was great warmth in Arnoldo's manner,
and although the excess of his affection was very evident,
yet it was expressed in so graceful and delicate a way, that it
did not offend Periander. Transila wept, nor were the eyes
of old Maurice dry, nor those of Ladislaus; Ricla sighed,
and Constance was much affected, whilst her father and
brother did not remain unmoved: Rutilio, already arrayed
in his hermit robe, went from one to another, bidding adieu
to each, and mingling his sobs and tears with theirs. At
length, invited by the calm weather and favouring gales,
(for the wind served equally well for both the voyages,) they
embarked, set sail, and Rutilio, from the hermitage hill,
watched their departure, and followed them with a thousand
blessings.
And here the author of this wandering story ends his
second book.
FOOTNOTES:
[L] This and the apostrophe of the Moorish Christian in the Third
Book to Philip III. fixes a date which corresponds ill with the North
Country Kings of Romance.
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
As our minds are ever in perpetual motion, and
can neither stop nor rest except by God,
who is our centre, and for whom we are
created, it is no marvel that our thoughts
should change,—that this should take, that,
leave; one should go on, another forget; and he who is the
most quiet, will go on best, if he be not so from want of
intellect.
I have made these observations as an excuse for the conduct
of Arnoldo, and the apparent facility with which he
relinquished in one moment the object that had occupied
him so long; though one can hardly say that he relinquished
it, for he only put it off for a time, because honour, the
ruling feeling of all human actions, called him away; and
this he explained to Periander on the night before their
parting, talking with him apart from the others in the hermitage
island. There he entreated him (for he who asks
for a thing he greatly needs rather begs than asks) to look
well after his sister Auristella, and preserve her for him, to
be the queen of Denmark; and that if fortune should prove
adverse, and he should not recover his kingdom, but lose his
life in the endeavour, Auristella should be considered as the
widow of a prince, and as such should choose a husband;
and frequently he repeated, as he had often done before, that
she well deserved to be the greatest queen in the world.
Periander said not one single word of all this to Auristella,
for the lover delights in bestowing upon a beloved one
praises from himself, and not as coming from another. He
has no desire to make her in love with the charms of any
one else; his own are all that he wishes her to see: if he
cannot himself sing well, he will not bring to her a friend
who can: if he is not handsome, he will not visit her in
the company of a Ganymede; and, in fine, I am of opinion
that if he has faults, he will not mend them by the merits of
others; however, these things cannot apply to Periander,
who was so richly endowed with nature's choicest gifts, and
in those of fortune, was inferior to few.
A favouring gale wafted the two vessels on their different
ways, for this is one of the mysteries of the art of navigation.
They went on their course, cutting the not crystal but the
dark blue waters. The sea was calm, for the wind, treating
it with respect, only ruffled the surface, and the ship
just seemed gently to kiss its lips, and then bound over it
so lightly, that it scarcely appeared to touch it. In this
manner, and with the same continued serenity and success,
they sailed for seventeen days, without having occasion once
to shorten sail, a great felicity for those who are on a sea
voyage, to which, if it were not from the dread of tempests
and coming storms, no pleasure in life is equal.
At the end of these or a few more days, early one morning,
a boy on the top mast-head cried out, "Land! a reward
sirs, a reward; I ask a reward, and deserve it, too;
land! land!" although he might rather have said, Heaven!
Heaven! for we were without a doubt within sight of
Lisbon, the news of which brought tears—tender and joyful
tears—into the eyes of all, but more especially of Ricla,
the two Antonios, and Constance, for it seemed to them
as if they had now reached the promised land that they so
much desired to see. Antonio clasped them in his arms,
and cried, "Now you shall learn, my beloved barbarians,
how we serve God, and many other things more fully, although
not differently from what I have taught you. Now
you will see the rich temples in which we worship Him;
you will see the Catholic ceremonies with which we serve
Him; and you will see what Christian love is. Here, love
and modesty join hands and walk together; courtesy repels
arrogance, and courage sends cowardice far away: all the
inhabitants are civil, courteous, liberal, and loving. This
is the greatest city in all Europe, and the one that has most
trade. In her the riches of the East are poured out, from
her they are scattered over the universe. Her harbour is
capacious, and holds countless navies like forests; the beauty
of her women is everywhere admired; the gallantry of her
men is a wonder to all, and finally, this is the land which
pays to Heaven a holy and abundant tribute."
"Say no more, Antonio," observed Periander, "but leave
our eyes something to discover for ourselves; let something
remain for us to see and admire anew, thus our pleasure will
in the end be all the greater for coming by degrees."
Auristella was delighted to think she should soon set her
foot on terra firma again, without having to go from port
to port, isle to isle, subject to all the inconstancies of wind
and weather; and still more pleased was she, when she
heard that she might, if she liked, go on dry land from
hence to Rome, without embarking again.
It was mid-day when they arrived at Sangian, where the
ship was to be registered, and where the governor of the
castle, and all who came on board the ship with him, wondered
greatly at the exceeding beauty of Auristella, the
graceful air of Periander, the barbarian attire of the two
Antonios, the comeliness of Ricla, and the agreeable looks
of Constance. They learned that they were foreigners and
pilgrims going to Rome. Periander magnificently rewarded
the mariners who had brought them hither, with some of
the gold that Ricla had carried away with her from the barbarous
isle; they had changed some of it into money, in
King Polycarp's dominions. The mariners wished to go
to Lisbon, in order to make some bargains in the way of
merchandise.
The governor of Sangian sent the news of the arrival of
the strangers, to the governor of Lisbon; this office was then
held by the Archbishop of Braga, in the absence of the king,
who was not in the city at this time. He told him of the
incomparable beauty of Auristella, and added praises of that
of Constance, whose barbarian attire, heightened the effect
of her charms. He even exaggerated the excessive liberality
and gracefulness of Periander, and extolled the behaviour
of them all, who were, he said, much more like courtiers
than barbarians.
The ship came up to the town, and they went on shore
at Belén, for Auristella wished to visit the holy monastery
first, having heard of its fame. She desired devoutly to
adore there, the only true God, freely and unembarrassed by
the distorted ceremonies of her own land. Crowds of
people came down to the shore to see the strangers disembark
at Belén. They all ran thither full of curiosity to see
the novel sight.
The phalanx of beauty had already left Belén; Ricla
was only moderately well looking, but her strange garb became
her extremely: Constance looked charming in her
dress of skins; the elder Antonio in his wolf skin, with bare
legs and arms; his son in a similar array, only that he carried
his bow in his hand, and his quiver full of arrows was
hung at his shoulder. Periander was dressed in a green velvet
tunic, and trousers of the same, like a mariner; on his head
he wore a high pointed cap, which could not conceal the
bright ringlets of golden hair which escaped beneath it.
Auristella was arrayed in the richest and most superb attire,
according to the fashion of the north, displaying all that can
be imagined most lovely in features, most graceful in form;
altogether they created an immense sensation of wonder and
admiration; but the graces of Periander and Auristella excelled
all the rest.
They went to Lisbon by land, followed by crowds of
people of all ranks; they were taken to the governor, who,
after having looked at them with admiration, was never
weary of asking, "Who they were, whence they came, and
whither they were going?" to all which Periander answered,
for he had already got his answer ready prepared for
similar questions, as many such were to be expected; and
so, when he liked or when it seemed advisable to do so,
he told his history at length, but always concealing his parentage,
so that he satisfied all questions, giving them, if
not the whole, at least a great part of his history in a few
words.
The viceroy gave orders that they should be lodged in
one of the best suites of apartments in the city, which happened
to be in the house of a great Portuguese nobleman;
so many persons flocked thither in order to look at Auristella
and her companions, (the fame of their beauty having
got abroad,) that Periander was of opinion it would be better
for the barbarians to change their dress for that of pilgrims,
as he thought the novelty and strangeness of the
garb they wore, was the chief cause of their being so much
followed, and even persecuted by the vulgar crowd, and the
other would be very much to the purpose of their intended
journey to Rome. They all agreed to do as he proposed,
and in two or three days the whole party was curiously pilgrimized.
It happened one day as he was going out of the house,
that a Portuguese fell at Periander's feet: calling him by his
name, and embracing his knees, he cried, "By what good
fortune, my lord Periander, do I see you here? Be not surprised
that I call you by your name, for I am one of the
twenty who were set at liberty in the conflagration of the
barbarous isle, where you also was a prisoner. I was present
at the death of Manuel de Souza Coutiño, the Portuguese
gentleman; I partook with you and yours of the
shelter of the inn, at the time when Maurice and Ladislaus
arrived in search of Transila, the wife of one, and daughter
of the other; my good fortune brought me home to my
own country, where I told the story of the poor lover's
death, to his relations, and they would have believed me,
even if I had not seen it with my own eyes: it is a not uncommon
thing for the Portuguese to die of love. A brother
who inherited his property had his obsequies performed;
and in a chapel belonging to his family he had a tomb of
white marble erected, as if he was buried beneath, and thereon
an epitaph, which I hope you will all come and see, for I
think you will be pleased with it."
Periander knew well by all he said that the man spoke
the truth, although he could not recollect ever having seen
his face; however, they went to the church of which he
spoke, and saw the chapel and the tomb, upon which was
engraven in the Portuguese language this epitaph, which,
read by Antonio the father, in Castilian, ran thus:—
To the Memory of the deceased
MANUEL DE SOUZA COUTIÑO,
A PORTUGUESE GENTLEMAN,
Who, had he not been Portuguese, might still be living.
He died, not by any Castilian hand, but
by that of all powerful Love.
PASSENGER,
If you knew the history of his life, you would
think his death a blessing.
Periander thought the Portuguese had good reason to
praise the epitaph, in the composition of which that nation
have great skill.
Auristella asked him, how the nun, that the deceased loved,
had felt when she heard of her lover's death. "A few days
after she heard of it," he replied, "she passed into a better
world; whether owing to the austerities of her way of life,
or to the news of the unexpected event, was never known."
They then proceeded to the house of a celebrated painter,
where Periander gave directions to have a very large piece
of canvass, painted with all the different events of his history.
On one side there was to be the Barbarous Isle in flames;
near it the Prison Island, and a little lower, the raft on
which he was found by Arnoldo, and brought into his ship.
In another part of the picture was the Snowy Island, where
the enamoured Portuguese died. Then came the ship, which
was perforated by the two soldiers, and near it was depicted
the separation of the skiff and boat. Here was to be the
duel between the two rivals for Taurisa, and their death.
There, the hull of the vessel that was turned upside down,
and which was so near being Auristella's tomb, and that of
all who were with her. Then the pleasant isle wherein
Periander had his dream, and saw the two squadrons of
virtues and vices; and close to this the ship, when the sea
monster, carried off the two seamen, and gave them a sepulchre
in his belly. Nor was the frozen sea forgotten,
wherein the vessel was imbedded—the assault upon her from
the people who came over the ice,—nor the delivering of
them all to Cratilius: also, there was to be painted, the tremendous
leap of the fiery Courser, which turned him from
a lion into a lamb. Then, in a corner, was a sketch of
King Polycarp's Festival, and himself there, crowned as
victor. He was resolved not to pass by one single incident
of importance that had happened up to their arrival in
Lisbon, and their disembarkation in the same dresses they
had worn when they arrived. Also, on the same canvass,
was to be seen the fire that burnt King Polycarp's palace;
Clodio transfixed by the dart of young Antonio; Zenotia
hanging; Hermitage Isle, and Rutilio in his holy garments.
This canvass was to be a summary of everything,
and was to serve in the place of a continual repetition of the
story, for Antonio the younger was to explain the pictures
and events when any one came to look at them; but the
master-piece of the artist was Auristella's portrait. They
stayed ten days in Lisbon, and spent the time in visiting
the churches, and giving their souls a help to the right road
into salvation; at the end of which time, with the viceroy's
permission, and proper passports, and descriptions of who
and what they were, and whither bound, they took leave
of their host, the Portuguese nobleman, and of the brother
of the ill-fated Manuel, from whom they had received great
caresses and kindness, and set forth on the road to Castile.
This departure was performed at night, from a fear of the
crowd that would have followed and impeded them, although
the change of dress had done something towards
decreasing the wonder.
CHAPTER II.
The Pilgrims begin their Journey through Spain; new
and extraordinary Adventures happen to them.
The tender years of Auristella, the yet tenderer
years of Constance, and the middle age of
Ricla, might well have called for all the pomp
and luxury of equipages for so long a journey
as the one they were about to undertake; but
the pious devotion of Auristella had made her vow, that from
the moment she arrived on terra firma, she would make her
way to Rome on foot, and the others not willing to be behind
her in devotion, all with one consent, both men and
women, were of the same opinion that the journey should
be performed on foot, adding, if necessary, that they would
beg from door to door; therefore they put by Ricla's wealth,
and Periander determined not to dispose of the diamond
cross that Auristella wore, but to keep it, as well as her invaluable
pearls, for a future occasion; all they did was to
buy a baggage mule, to carry what was too heavy for their
own shoulders. They provided themselves with walking
sticks, as much for support as defence; and some small
swords; and in this humble and lowly array they quitted
Lisbon, rich only in their beauty and prudence, the fame
of which was the universal subject of discourse; and in
every circle and assembly there, nothing was talked of but
the extreme and extraordinary loveliness and wisdom of the
foreign pilgrims.
In this way, travelling between two and three leagues a
day, they arrived at Badajoz, the governor of which had already
heard from Lisbon that the new pilgrims were to come
that road. They, upon entering the city, took up their
lodging in a house in which already a company of comedians
had taken their quarters, who were going to rehearse this
very night, a piece they were about to perform in public at
the house of the Corregidor. The moment they saw Auristella
and Constance, they were struck, as all were at first
sight, with surprise and admiration; but the most enchanted
of the party was a poet, (Note 6) who came with the company
on purpose to help and patch up and mend old plays,
and also write new ones, an occupation that brought him
more work than profit, and more amusement than honour.
However, good poetry is always like clear water; it improves
all unclean things; like the sun it passes over all
impurities without being defiled by them. It is a gleam
of light that shines forth from a dark corner, not burning,
but illuming all it meets with. In fine this poet, whose
necessities had compelled him to exchange Parnassus and
the Castalian springs for the stagnant pools and channels
of roads and inns, was the one who was most struck by Auristella's
beauty, and he immediately set her down as good
for the company, and fit to be an actress, without inquiring
or knowing whether she could speak the Castilian language
or not. Her form and figure pleased him; her graceful
manner delighted him; he saw her at once in imagination,
apparelled in the short coat of a man; then as rapidly she appeared
to his mind's eye drest as a nymph; but almost in the
same instant he had robed her in all the majesty of a queen.
There was no part grave or gay in which he did not place
her; in each he figured her to himself, serious, lively, prudent,
quick, and above all, virtuous; extremes which seldom
are to be found in an actress of low comedy.
Ye Heavens, with what facility does the poet's imagination
disperse a thousand impossibilities: what grand chimeras
does he not build upon the weakest foundations! He
can do anything, all is easy and plain; hope can support
him even when fortune fails. Thus it was with this our
present poet; when he by chance saw the picture in which
all the adventures of Periander were portrayed. He there
saw, more than he had ever conceived in his whole life, and
thereupon he felt a strong desire to write a drama about it,
only he was puzzled whether to make it a tragedy or a comedy,
or a tragi-comedy; and if he knew the middle, he
did not know either the beginning or the end. But what
troubled him most was, how he could possibly introduce
a lacquey[M], a merry-andrew personage amongst all these
islands and seas, fires, and snows; nevertheless, he did not
despair, he would still make the play, and bring the merry-andrew
in, in spite of all the rules of poetry and the drama;
and so fully was he taken up with his idea, that he found
an opportunity to speak to Auristella, and open his intention
to her, consulting her as to what part she would take
if she became an actress, telling her that she would find the
theatre a mine of gold, for the princes of that age were like
alchymists, who changed your copper into gold; that she
might have her garments all of cloth of gold, for all the
gentlemen would be at her feet. He represented the pleasure
of the journeys she would make, and how she would
carry in her train two or three young nobles in disguise,
who would be her servants as much as her lovers; and,
above all, he extolled up to the very skies the honour and
glory she would have in representing all the first parts, and
he wound up all, by telling her, that if one thing more falsified
than another the old Castilian saying, "That honour
and money are seldom found together," it was in the life
of a beautiful actress.
Auristella replied that she had not understood a single
word of all he had been saying, for that she was ignorant
of the Castilian language, as he might plainly see; but when
it was explained to her, she said, her views were very different,
and that she had other prospects to look forward to,
if not so agreeable, at least more suited to her taste.
The poet was in despair at this reply, which at once destroyed
all the castles in the air he had been building in his
folly and vanity.
They all went that evening to the Corregidor's house,
who, having heard of the arrival of the beautiful pilgrims
in the city, sent to invite them to come and see the play,
which was to be performed, and to accept his best endeavours
to be of any service to them, in consequence of all that he
had heard from Lisbon in their praise.
Periander, by the desire of Auristella and the elder Antonio,
who he obeyed as his superior in age, accepted the
invitation. There were many ladies of the city with the
wife of the Corregidor, when the fair pilgrims, with Periander
and the two Antonios, entered the room: all were
amazed and confounded at the surprising beauty and grace
of the strangers, which increased the desire of every one to
show them all possible kindness and civility; and their host
forced them to take the highest places at the entertainment,
which was the representation of the fable of Cephalus and
Procris, when she, from an undue jealousy, lost her life by
the dart too incautiously thrown by him, to his eternal sorrow.
The verse bordered on perfection, as it was composed,
they say, by Juan de Herrera de Gamboa, nicknamed El
Maganto, or the Spiritless, whose genius soared to the highest
order of poetry.
When the play was over, the ladies examined the beauties
of Auristella minutely, and each feature separately, and
found that they composed a whole, that might well be named
"perfection" without a blot. The men said as much of Periander,
and all agreed in praising highly the beauty of Constance
and her brother.
They stayed in the city three days, during which the
Corregidor and his lady showed every possible kindness to
the pilgrims, and loaded them with gifts. They in return
promised to send the history of their adventures, and of all
that should befall them, to their kind friends.
They left Badajoz, and travelled on to our lady of Guadaloupe.
After a journey of three days, in which they had
gone five leagues, night overtook them on a mountain, which
was covered with Ilexes, and other trees: it was that pleasant
season of the year when there is an equal balance between
the two equinoxes—neither too hot nor too cold—and
in case of necessity, just as pleasant to spend the night
in the open air as in a village; and therefore being far from
any inn, it was Auristella's desire that it should be passed
in one of the sheepfolds of the herdsmen that they saw were
near. They did as she wished, and had hardly gone above
two hundred steps into the wood, when the darkness came
on so fast that they paused to look for the light that shone
from the herdsmen's fold, which served as their polar star, for
fear of losing their way; the extreme darkness, and a sound
that was heard at a distance, made them slacken their pace,
and the boy Antonio began to think of his bow, his constant
companion; at this instant a man on horseback came up to
them and said, "Good people, do you belong to this place?"
"Certainly not," answered Periander, "but to one very
far distant; we are foreign pilgrims, going to Rome, but at
present to Guadaloupe."
"If," said he of the horse, "there is charity and courtesy
in foreign lands, there may also be compassionate souls
from thence."
"Why not?" said Antonio. "Look you here now, sir,
whoever you are; if you want any help from us, speak, and
you will see whether you are right or not in your conjectures."
"Take then," said the horseman, "take this chain of
gold, which should be worth two hundred crowns; and take
also this thing, which is priceless, at least I cannot name its
value, and carry it to the city of Trujillo, where you will
give it to one of two gentlemen, who are well-known both
there and elsewhere: one is called Don Francisco Pizarro,
and the other, Don Juan de Orellana, both bachelors, both
free, both rich, and both extremely generous;" (thus saying,
he placed in Ricla's arms, who, like a compassionate woman,
stepped forward to receive it, a baby, which was beginning
to cry, wrapt in clothes that might have been rich or poor,
they could not tell which;) "and," continued he, "you will
bid them keep it; and say, they shall soon know who it is, and
the misfortunes that have brought it to them, if it ever comes
there, and forgive my saying more, for I am pursued by my
enemies; if they come up with you, and ask if you have
seen me, tell them you have not, since there is no occasion
for you to say you have seen me, or if you prefer it, you
may say that three or four men on horseback have gone by,
who went crying, 'For Portugal! for Portugal!' and now
please God, I must not delay, for if fear lend spurs, sharper
yet are those of honour," and so, touching the horse's sides
with his, he vanished like a flash of lightning, not, however,
before he had returned, rapidly exclaiming, "It is unbaptized,"
and then resumed his flight.
Behold our pilgrims now, Ricla with the baby in her
arms, Periander with the chain about his neck, and the boy
Antonio with his bow ready strung, his father also holding
in readiness the sword which was concealed in his staff;
Auristella confounded and astonished at the strangeness of
the adventure, and altogether wondering at it, and what
would come forth from it.
Auristella advised that they should make haste and find
the herdsmen's fold, as there they might procure food to
nourish this new-born infant, for by its small size and weak
cries they guessed it could not be many hours old. They
had hardly reached it, after many wrong turnings, and many
stumbles and falls, when before they could ask whether the
herdsman would give them a shelter for the night, a woman
came up weeping, but not aloud, for she showed by her
suppressed moans that she tried not to let her voice be heard.
She was but half dressed, though the garments she had on,
evidently proved her to be a person of some consequence.
By the light of the fires, in spite of the care with which
she tried to conceal her face, it was plainly seen that she
was as beautiful as she was young, and as young as she was
beautiful. Ricla, who was the best judge of ages, guessed
that she might be from sixteen to seventeen years old. The
herdsmen and shepherds asked her if she was pursued, or
if anything had happened to her that required a speedy help;
to which the unhappy girl replied, "The first help I need,
sirs, is to be put under ground, or I had better say that I
may be hidden somewhere, so that no one can find me;
the second, that you will give me some food, for I am well
nigh expiring from fatigue and fright."
"We will show that we have charity," said an old shepherd;
and he went quickly towards the hollow trunk of a
tree—the ruin of a once noble oak—and placing within
it some snowy fleeces of sheep and goats, he made a sort
of bed, good enough for the present necessity; then taking
the young lady in his arms, he hid her in the old tree, and
then brought her some milk; (he would have given her wine
had she wished it;) then he covered her up closely with
more sheep-skins, and hung them also about the tree, as if
to dry them.
Ricla, who watched all this, speedily conjectured that
this must be the mother of the baby that she held in her
arms. She went up to the old shepherd, saying, "Let not
your charity, good sir, stop here, but extend it to this infant,
which is perishing of hunger;" and she quickly explained
how they had come by it. Answering more to her
wants than words, the old shepherd called to one of the
other shepherds, and bid him take the child to the sheep-fold,
and put it by one of the goats in such a manner as to
enable it to suck: he had hardly done this, and hardly had
the last wailing cry of the baby ceased, when a troop of
horsemen rode up to the fold, and asked if they had seen
anything of a fugitive young woman, or of a man on horseback.
But as no one gave them any intelligence of what
they demanded, they passed on with extreme speed, which
not a little rejoiced the charitable protectors of the woman
and child; and the night passed away more quietly than
the pilgrims expected, and more merrily to the herdsmen
and shepherds, who had not looked for so much good company.
The Damsel in the Tree gives an account of herself.
Very much did they all wish to know what
causes had brought the unhappy fugitive lady
into such a plight; and also the forsaken infant;
but Auristella thought it would be better
not to ask any questions till the next day,
because after a great fright, nobody feels much inclined to
talk even of some pleasant event, far less of a sad one, and
though the old shepherd often visited the tree, he asked its
tenant no questions, except about her health, to which she
replied, "That although she had every reason to be ill, she
felt easy, because she had escaped from those who pursued
her, who were her father and brother." The shepherd
covered her up again, and returned to the pilgrims.
Before they allowed themselves to seek in sleep a little
repose after their fatigue, they settled with the shepherd
that he, who had found a nurse for the babe already
among the she goats, should carry it to the house of a sister
of the aged shepherd's, which was about two leagues off, in
a small village. They gave him the gold chain to take with
it, and desired that it might be nursed secretly, saying that
it came from a distant place. This was done, hoping by
these means to elude suspicion, if by chance any one should
return hither in search of the lost one. After settling these
matters and satisfying their hunger, they suffered sleep to
close their eyes and wrap their senses in forgetfulness. So
passed the night, and day dawned brightly upon all, unless
it were for the terrified creature in the old tree, who scarcely
ventured to look out upon the sun's clear rays. Nevertheless,
having first, far and near, placed sentinels at different
intervals to give warning if anybody approached, they persuaded
her to come out of her hiding-place, and breathe the
fresh air, hoping to hear something from her; and now, in
the full light of day, they saw that she was very lovely, so
much so, that it was a doubt whether to give the second
place to her or to Constance: Auristella, of course, came
first, for nothing in nature could ever be found to equal her.
They prayed her much to tell them the cause of her distress,
and she, willing to gratify their desire, after asking them
to excuse her weakness, in a feeble voice thus began:—
"Although, sirs, I shall be forced to reveal such faults
in making you acquainted with my history, as will, perhaps,
cause me to lose your good opinion, yet I would rather by
obeying show my gratitude than seem unwilling to please
you. I am called Feliciana of the voice; my home is in
a town not far hence; my parents more noble than rich,
and my beauty, although now faded, has been esteemed
great by some people. Near the town where I lived, there
lived also a rich gentleman, whose conduct and many virtues
made him greatly esteemed and respected. He has a son,
who bids fair to be the heir of his father's virtues, as well
as of his wealth, which is very great. In the same village
there lived another gentleman, who also had a son, more
well born than rich, but possessed of a sufficient mediocrity,
so as to be neither too humble nor too proud. My father
and my two brothers wished me to marry this second young
gentleman, turning a deaf ear to the entreaties of the rich
neighbour, who asked me for a wife; but I unhappily gave
myself away to him secretly, and without the knowledge
of my relations. I have no mother, to my sorrow; we
frequently saw each other in private, for opportunity is rarely
wanting in such cases. From these secret interviews arose
my shame, if it be shame, for two espoused lovers thus to
meet; and at this juncture, unknown to me, my father and
brothers agreed to carry into effect my marriage with the
young gentleman of their choice; and so bent were they upon
having it accomplished, that one night they brought him
to our house, accompanied by two of his own near relations,
purposing that the ceremony should take place directly. I
was much surprised when I saw Louis Antonio, for that is
the name of the young nobleman, and still more, when my
father desired me to go into my own apartment and adorn
myself with more than ordinary care, because I was to give
my hand in marriage to Louis Antonio this very moment.
Now I was far advanced in pregnancy, and the time was
nearly at hand which nature assigns for bringing forth a
child. I felt as if I had received my death-blow at this
most unlooked-for command, and saying that I would go
and dress myself, I hurried into my own room, where
throwing myself into the arms of my maid, who was the
confidante of my secret, I cried, whilst my eyes were like
fountains, 'Alas, my Leonora, I verily believe my last hour
is come; Louis Antonio is waiting for me in the antechamber,
to receive my hand in marriage. What condition
can an unhappy woman be in, more utterly deplorable
than this? Have you no weapon with which to pierce my
heart before I die of shame? alas, my friend, I am dying,
my life is departing;' and then uttering a deep sigh, I brought
into the world an infant, which sight so took us both by surprise,
that all I expected was, that my father or my brothers
should come in, and, instead of leading me to my bridal,
should carry me to my grave.
"Can you, sirs, conceive a more terrible situation than
I was in this night—my intended husband expecting me
in the parlour below, whilst his rival was waiting in the
garden to speak with me, ignorant of the strait I was in,
and of the arrival of Louis Antonio;—I, nearly senseless
at the unexpected event; my maid greatly troubled with
the infant in her arms; my father and brothers sending
word to me to make haste, and come to these unhappy
nuptials.
"It was enough to upset stronger minds than mine: I
know not that I can tell you more than, that whilst I lay almost
senseless, I heard my father say, as he entered my room,
'Come girl, finish your adornments, or come as you are,
and your beauty shall supply the place of rich attire.' At
this instant, I imagine, the cry of the child reached his ears,
which my maiden had contrived to conceal, or was giving
it to Rosanio, the name of him whom I had chosen for my
husband. My father was disturbed, and, with a candle in
his hand, came to look at my countenance, and perceived
my state of dismay and confusion; the sound of the infant's
cry seemed again to strike his ears, and drawing his sword,
he hastened to the quarter whence the voice had proceeded.
The sight of the naked weapon, and the terror that filled
my soul, made me, with the natural instinct that prompts
one to save one's life, endeavour to find a means of doing
so; and, hardly had my father turned his back, when, just
as I was, I hastened down a winding staircase to the lower
apartments of the house, thence with ease I gained the street,
and from the street, the fields, and then by roads, I know
not where, I ran, impelled by fear, as if I had wings to my
feet, faster than you could suppose my feeble strength would
have allowed. A thousand times I felt a wish to throw myself
into some river or pond, and end my life; and sometimes
I felt as if I could lie down on the earth, and let any one
find me who chose; but at last seeing the light from your
huts, I tried to reach them, in hopes of finding some help
and shelter for my misery, and so it happened as you saw,
and so it is that I am now alive, thanks to your kindness
and charity."
Thus the unhappy Feliciana ended her relation, which
filled her hearers with surprise and pity. Periander then
described the finding of the baby, the gift of the chain, and
all that had happened with the gentleman on horseback, who
gave them.
"Alas!" said Feliciana, "if this precious gift should indeed
be mine, and if it should be Rosanio who brought it!
perhaps, if I could see it, if not by its features, which I never
looked upon, still, by the clothes in which it is wrapped, I
might recognize it, for my maid could only have taken things
that were in my room to wrap it in, which I should know
again, and even if I should not, perhaps the force of nature
would do its work, and a secret feeling speak to me, if it
is mine."
The old shepherd said, "The child is in our village with
my sister, and a niece of mine; I will send and tell them
to bring it here, and then, beautiful lady, you can try the
experiment you desire. In the meantime, calm your spirits,
and I and my fellow shepherds, and this old tree, shall serve
as clouds in which to keep you hidden from the eyes of
those who seek you."
CHAPTER IV.
"It seems to me, my brother," said Auristella
to Periander, "that troubles and perils are to
be met with not only on the sea, but all over
the earth; and that misfortunes and distresses
are to be found among those who are set up
high on the mountains, as well as amongst people who are
hiding in corners. That which is called fortune, of which
I have frequently heard, and of which it is said that it gives
and takes away good things, when and how it pleases, ought
indeed to be represented as blind and capricious, since it
raises those who have grovelled upon the earth, and puts
down others who have aspired to high places. This lady,
who says she is called Feliciana of the voice, and now she
has hardly voice enough left to relate the story of her own
misfortunes;—think of her but a few hours ago, in her own
home with her father, brothers, and servants, hoping to find
some help or remedy for her imprudent conduct; and now,
behold her, hiding in the hollow of a tree, fearing the insects
of the air, and the crawling worm of the earth. It is
true she has not sprung from a princely race, but yet hers
is an example for all young maidens who live secluded from
the world, and wish to live a virtuous life: all this moves
me to entreat that you, O my brother, will watch severely
over my conduct, for ever since the hour in which I left
your mother and home, I have placed my honour in your
hands, and although experience has proved well your virtue,
alike in the solitude of deserts, or the company of cities;
yet still I fear that as days move on, so also may change
come across your thoughts. My honour is yours, one sole
wish rules us both, and the same hope supports us: our path
is a long and weary one, but there is an end to everything,
unless idleness and laziness intrude; Heaven has already
brought us into Spain, and (for which we should be grateful)
released us from the dangerous company of Arnoldo."
"O my sister," answered Periander, "how dost thou
prove every moment the greatness of thy wisdom and prudence!
I plainly see thou fearest as a woman, and feelest
as a discreet and prudent one; gladly would I do anything
to calm thy new-born suspicions. We have no occasion
to stay longer in this shepherd's fold, and as to Feliciana,
we can do no more than bestow upon her our pity; but
we should carry the child to Truxillo, as we were charged
to do by him who gave us the chain, as it seemed, for
payment."
They were still talking together when the old shepherd
came up to them, with his sister and the infant which had
been sent for, to see whether Feliciana would recognize it,
as she had requested.
She took it in her arms, and looked at it again and again,
removed its swaddling clothes, but there was nothing by
which she could be certain it was the child she had brought
into the world; nor yet, which was remarkable, did she
experience the yearnings of a mother towards the child,
which was a boy. "No," said she, "these are not the
cloaks that my maid wrapt it in, nor did I ever see this
chain in Rosanio's hands. This precious creature must
belong to some one else. Too fortunate should I be, if I
could think it mine. Although I have heard Rosanio
speak of having friends in Truxillo, yet I cannot remember
their names."
"After all," said the shepherd, "since the person who
gave the child to the pilgrims, desired that it might be
taken to Truxillo, I suspect that it was Rosanio; and it is
my opinion that it will be best for my sister and some of
our shepherds to carry the child thither, and see whether
either of the gentlemen, whose names were mentioned, will
receive it."
Feliciana only answered by her sobs, and throwing herself
at the feet of the old man she embraced him warmly,—signs
that she much approved of the proceeding he had
advised; and the pilgrims also approved of it, and made
all easy by giving the chain of gold to them. The shepherd's
sister was provided with one of the mules belonging
to the fold, (she having only recently recovered from a
lying-in,) and she had directions given her, to pass through
her own village and leave her own baby in concealment,
whilst she went with the other to Truxillo.
It was all to be done directly, because the urgency of
the case admitted of no delay. In silent gratitude, Feliciana
showed how much she felt the kindness of those who
were thus active in her service; and having heard how
these pilgrims were bound for Rome, charmed by the
beauty and prudence of Auristella, the courteous manners
of Periander, the loving and affectionate ways of Constance
and her mother, and the agreeable behaviour of the two
Antonios, after weighing it in her mind, and pondering
thereon in the short space of time that they were together,
she felt that it would be desirable to quit a place where
her disgrace must be public, and entreated that they would
allow her to go with them as a pilgrim to Rome—that, as
she had wandered from the ways of virtue, she would
gladly now be a wanderer in search of grace, if she might
be allowed to join their company.
Scarcely had she uttered her desire, than Auristella hastened
to grant it, being full of pity and anxiety to relieve
her from the terror and alarm she was enduring. The only
difficulty that remained was—how could she, who had so
lately been delivered of a child, undertake a journey? But
the old shepherd said, that there was no real difference between
the bringing forth of a woman and that of a cow,—that
the cow immediately after her delivery is exposed to
the inclemency of the weather; and thus the woman might
perfectly well return to her usual habits of exercise, if custom
had not taught them to use the luxurious precautions
and repose that are common with lying-in women. "I am
sure," said he, "that when Eve brought forth her first-born
son, she neither kept her bed, nor secluded herself from the
air, nor took any of the precautions that women adopt in these
days. Take courage, lady Feliciana, and follow up your
intentions, which are both holy and Christian-like;" to
which Auristella added, "You shall not want a pilgrim's
dress, for I had two made, upon setting out on this pilgrimage,
and one of them shall be given to the lady Feliciana
of the voice, on condition that she tells me the reason why
she is so called, unless it is really her true name."
"It was not mine by lineage, but simply because every
one who knew me and heard me sing, declared that I had
the finest voice that ever was heard, so I was generally called
Feliciana of the voice; and I would readily give you proof
of this if I was not more in a mood for crying than singing:
however, if better times come, and my tears cease to flow,
I will sing, if not merry songs, at least dirges and doleful
ditties."
Now after Feliciana had spoken thus, they were all seized
with a strong desire to hear her sing immediately, but no
one ventured to ask it of her, because, as she had said, it
was not the proper time. The next day Feliciana took off
all her attire, except what was absolutely necessary, and put
on the pilgrim's dress, which was given her by Auristella.
She took off a pearl necklace and two rings, which, if ornaments
betokened a person's quality, would at once have
proclaimed her rich and high-born. They were taken into
the care of Ricla, as treasurer of the property of everybody;
and Feliciana took her place as second among the pilgrims,
Auristella being first, and Constance third; although upon
this point, opinions were divided, and there were some who
gave the second place to Constance, Auristella alone stood
unrivalled.
As soon as Feliciana was dressed in her new garb, she
felt eager and anxious to be off: Auristella knew this, and
by general consent, they took leave of the hospitable old
shepherd, and the rest of the herdsmen, and departed, taking
the road to Cáceres. When at any time any one of the
women became weary, the baggage mule afforded her a
means of rest, or they sat down by the side of some murmuring
stream, or sparkling fountain, or the verdure of some
pleasant meadow invited them to repose.
And so they journeyed on, being weary and resting alternately;
but as it rarely happens that good intentions are carried
into effect without any hindrances, it pleased Heaven
that this charming party (one in intention, although many
in number) should meet with the obstacle of which you shall
now hear.
The green herbage of a delightful meadow had offered a
pleasant retreat to the travellers: the clear and sweet waters
of a little rivulet that trickled through the grass, had refreshed
their faces; a number of thorns and brambles formed a wall,
and shelter all round them. It was an agreeable spot to
rest in, when all of a sudden, breaking through the thick
and tangled branches, a youth, in the dress of a traveller,
rushed in among them; his back was pierced through with
a sword, and the point came out at his breast. He fell
down before them, and as he fell, exclaimed, "God be with
me;" and so saying, he expired. It happened all in one
moment; and although at so strange a sight, every one had
risen in confusion, Periander was the first to fly to his assistance,
and seeing that he was quite dead, he tried to draw
out the sword. The two Antonios leaped over the bushes
to look if any one was to be seen who could have committed
this treacherous and cruel murder, for it was clearly a traitor's
deed, seeing that the blow had been dealt from behind, but
they saw nobody. They returned to the rest, and the great
youth and noble appearance of the murdered stranger increased
the pity they felt for his death. They examined
the body minutely, and found, under a loose jacket of grey
velvet, over the doublet, a chain of four links of gold, from
which was suspended a crucifix, also of gold; and between
the doublet and the shirt, they found, in an ebony case richly
worked, the portrait of a very beautiful woman, round which
were these lines:—
She freezes, she burns,
She looks and speaks,
O miracle of beauty!
Such power your face possesses
Even in a picture.
Periander, who first read these lines, judged thereby that
some love affair had caused his death: they carefully investigated
his dress, hoping to find some indication by which
to discover who he was, but could find none; and whilst
they were making this scrutiny, four men appeared suddenly,
armed with cross bows, who were instantly recognised by
Antonio the elder, as members of the holy Brotherhood;
one of whom cried out, "Stop, thieves! murderers! highwaymen!
your work of spoliation, which we are just come
in time to punish as it deserves."
"Rogues, there are none here," said the younger Antonio,
"nor are we robbers, but enemies of all such persons."
"Truly, so it appears," replied the archer, "with a dead
corpse before you; his property in your hands, and his
blood upon your clothes; witnesses of your crime, robbers
ye are, and murderers, and as such shall be punished; nor
shall that pilgrim garb which you have put on to conceal
your misdeeds, avail you anything."
To this, the young Antonio replied by fitting an arrow
to his bow, and aiming at the arm of the archer; the others
seeing this, either alarmed or in order to make the capture
more secure, turned round hastily, and called lustily for
help. "Help for the holy Brotherhood!" In an instant,
as if by miracle, they were joined by more than twenty
archers, who, aiming their arrows at the party, took them
all prisoners, without respect even for the beauty of Auristella;
and carrying the dead body along with them, brought
the party to Cáceres, the Corregidor of which was a knight
of the order of St. Jago, who, on seeing the dead body, and
the wounded archer, and hearing the account given by the
others with the additional proof of Periander's bloody appearance,
was immediately disposed to put them all to the
torture; but Periander declared the true state of the case,
showing, in proof of his assertions, the papers and passports
that he had brought from Lisbon, by way of security on
his journey. He also showed the picture of his adventures,
which were well described by the younger Antonio; and
all these proofs were sufficient to have shown clearly the innocence
of the pilgrims.
Ricla, the treasurer of the party, who knew little or nothing
of what lawyers and notaries are, offered one of them
a quantity of money secretly, to take their case up for them;
but she was in danger of losing all she had, for the gentlemen
of the law smelling out that the pilgrims had money, would
gladly have shorn them close, according to their usual fashion,
even to the very bones; and without a doubt, would have
done so, if it had not pleased Heaven to let the might of
innocence overthrow the attempts of malice. It happened
that a certain innkeeper of the place, having seen the dead
corpse that had been brought with the pilgrims, recognized
it, and went to the Corregidor, and said to him, "My lord,
this man who has been brought in dead by the holy Brotherhood,
left my house yesterday morning, in company with
another person, who seemed to be a gentleman. A little
before he went away, he shut himself up in a room with
me, and with great caution he said, 'Mine host, I pray you
as a good Christian, if I do not return hither within six days,
to open this paper which I give you, before the court of
Justice:' so saying, he gave me this paper, which I now
deliver to your worship, conceiving that it may probably explain
something that will touch upon this strange affair."
The Corregidor took the paper, and opening it, he found
the following words written therein:—
"I, Don Diego de Parraces, left the palace of his majesty
on such a day, (and here the date was given,) in company
with my relation, Don Sebastián de Soranzo, who asked me
to go a certain journey along with him, which concerned
both his honour and his life. I, not wishing to confirm
some false suspicions which he harboured respecting me, and
trusting in my innocence, consented to accompany him: it
is my belief that he means to kill me; if this should happen,
and my body is found, let it be known that I am slain by
perfidious hands, and that I die guiltless.
(Signed) DON DIEGO DE PARRACES."
The Corregidor sent off this letter with all speed to Madrid,
where the greatest diligence was exerted to trace out
the murderer; but he arrived at home the very day when
the search was made, and, discovering how matters were,
instead of alighting, he gave his horse the rein, and disappeared
altogether. Thus the crime remained unpunished:
the dead man was not to be restored to life; the prisoners
were set free, and some of the links of the chain that Ricla
kept, were employed to pay the expenses of justice. The
Corregidor kept the portrait to please himself. The archer
of the holy Brotherhood received ample satisfaction for his
wound.
The younger Antonio began anew to describe the story
of their picture, and left the people all wondering greatly
thereat.
The whole time the investigation had been going on,
Feliciana kept her bed under pretence of illness, that she
might not be seen. They took the road to Guadaloupe,
talking, as they travelled, over their strange adventure, and
hoping that some chance might occur to allow them to hear
Feliciana sing. She willingly consented to give them this
pleasure, since there is no sorrow that does not soften with
time, only that she might keep up the proper decorum due
to her misfortune and sad condition: her songs were dirges,
and her voice, mournful; but this diminished a good deal
after meeting the shepherd's sister on the road, returning
from Truxillo, where she told them she had left the infant
in the care of Don Francisco Pizarro, and Don Juan de
Orellana, who felt convinced that the child must belong to
their friend Don Rosanio, judging by the place where he was
met, for they knew of no one else in all the neighbourhood
who would have so confided in them; "and," said the
good woman, "they told me that he should not be deceived
in his expectations by trusting them thus. So you perceive,
sirs, that the child is placed according to your desires at
Truxillo: if there is anything else you wish me to do to
serve you here, I am ready to do it, and here is the chain,
for I have not parted with it yet, since what I have done
was from Christian kindness, and that weighs more heavily
with me than gold." To which Feliciana answered, that
she wished it might remain many years in her possession
before she found herself under the necessity of parting with
it, for rich trinkets do not stay long with the poor. The
shepherd's sister then took leave of them, and they sent a
thousand kind messages to her brother and the other shepherds.
In process of time, little by little our pilgrims reached
the saintly walls of Guadaloupe.
CHAPTER V.
Scarcely had our devout pilgrims set foot
on one of the two entrances that lead to the
valley, which is formed and enclosed by the
lofty mountains of Guadaloupe, than at each
fresh step they found new subjects of admiration;
but their admiration reached the highest possible point
when they saw the noble and sumptuous monastery, the
walls of which contain the blessed image of the Queen of
Heaven; that blessed image, which gives freedom to the
captive, cleanses his sins, and relieves his distress; that
blessed image, which gives health to the sick, comfort to the
afflicted, which is a mother to the orphan, and a defence
from all misfortune. They entered the church, and where
they expected to find walls adorned with the Tyrian purple,
the damask of Syria, the brocades of Milan, in their
place they saw, crutches left by the cripple, wax eyes that
had belonged to the blind, arms hung there by the maimed,
shrouds cast aside by the dead, all, who after having been
cast down by misery, now living, healthy, free and happy,
loudly return thanks to the Mother of mercies, who in this
small space, makes intercession with her blessed Son for his
infinite mercy.
So strong an impression was made upon the hearts of the
devout pilgrims by all these miracles, that they gazed around
them, fancying that they saw in the air the captive in his
chains, coming to hang them up on the holy walls. The
lame and infirm trailing their crutches along with them,
the dead corpse its winding-sheet, seeking where to place
them, and not finding space left, so great was the number
those walls already held.
This sight, which had never been seen before by Periander,
Auristella, Ricla, Constance, or the young Antonio,
filled them with awe and wonder; and they were never
tired of gazing, nor of admiring; so with devout and humble
minds they knelt down to adore the Saviour, and
implore the intercession of his holy Mother. But what
most deserved notice was, that Feliciana, on bended knees,
and with clasped hands, pressed to her breast, whilst tears
of tender sorrow bathed her cheeks, almost without appearing
to move her lips, or make any sign of being a living
creature, raised her voice, and sang some verses which she
knew by heart, and which afterwards she gave them in
writing. Her sweet and most melodious singing enchanted
the senses of all her hearers, and well proved that she had not
praised her own voice too highly, fully satisfying the strong
wish of all the pilgrims to hear her.
She had sung about four stanzas, when some strangers entered
the church, who knelt down, as they were induced
to do both by custom and devotion. They were also struck
by the voice of Feliciana, who went on singing; and one
among them, who seemed rather advanced in years, turning
to the person nearest him, said, "Either that is the voice of
some angel in Heaven, or it is that of my daughter Feliciana."
"Who can doubt it?" replied the other. "There
she is, but there she shall not be long, if my arm can strike
a sure blow;" so saying, he grasped his poignard, and with
hurried steps, white with passion, he was approaching the
spot where Feliciana knelt. The venerable old man followed,
and drawing him back hastily, said, "This is no
place, my son, for punishment. Take time, for now this
traitress cannot escape from us, and do not, in seeking to
chastise the fault of another, bring down a judgment upon
thine own head."
These words, and the disturbance altogether, had stopped
the mouth of Feliciana, and put the pilgrims into some consternation,
and also every one else in the church. They
were not able to prevent the father and brother of Feliciana
from dragging her out of the church into the street,
where they were very soon joined by a crowd of people,
with the officers of justice, who released her from the grasp
of those who seemed more like executioners than father or
brother.
Things being in this confusion, the father demanding his
daughter, and the brother his sister, whilst the magistrate
refused to give her up to them until he could learn the state
of the case, a little party of horsemen entered on one side of
the open place, two of whom were immediately recognised
by most of the persons present, as Don Francisco Pizarro,
and Don Juan de Orellana. They came up to the spot where
the tumult was, and another gentleman with them, whose
face was covered with a veil of black taffeta, and inquired
the cause of all this disturbance. They were told that nobody
knew what was the matter, except that the officers
of justice were defending a pilgrim, whom two men, calling
themselves her father and brother, wanted to kill. Don
Francisco and Don Juan were listening to this account,
when the muffled cavalier, leaping from his horse, drew his
sword, and uncovering his face, placed himself at Feliciana's
side, and cried aloud, "It is from me, sirs, that you must
take the satisfaction that you desire for Feliciana's fault, if
it be a fault that deserves death for a lady to marry against
her parents' consent. Feliciana is my wife, and I am Rosanio,
as you see, not so humble in condition as to be undeserving
that you should give me openly that which I chose
secretly. I am of noble birth, of which I can show you the
proofs: I am rich enough to support her as my wife; I do
not think it right that what I have gained by good fortune
should be taken from me by Louis Antonio, at your pleasure;
and if you think I have offended you by that which
I have done without your consent, pardon the fault, which
was caused by the all-powerful force of love, and the finding
you already so well inclined towards Louis Antonio,
which made me forget the duty I owed you, for which once
more I entreat your pardon."
Whilst he spoke thus, he held Feliciana clasped close
round the waist, all trembling and full of terror, but still all
beautiful. Before her father or brother could speak a word,
Don Francisco embraced the former, and Don Juan the
latter, who were their intimate friends. Don Francisco said
to the father, "Where is your prudence gone, Senor Don
Pedro Tenorio? Is it possible that you desire to do what
is so much against your own interests? Do not you see that
this offence brings its own excuse along with it? What is
there in Rosanio undeserving of Feliciana, or what will become
of her in future if she loses Rosanio?"
The same or similar arguments were used by Don Juan
with the brother, adding more, for he said, "Don Sancho,
passion never ends well, and an angry spirit rarely hits correctly:
your sister chose a good husband for herself; you
would do ill to take vengeance, because they failed in the
proper ceremony and respect that was due to you.
"Look you, Don Sancho, I have in my house at home,
a nephew of yours you cannot disown, unless you disown
yourself, he is so like you."
The answer of the father was to go to his son and take
away the poignard from his hands, after which he embraced
Rosanio, who fell at the feet of his father-in-law and embraced
them a thousand times. Feliciana also fell on her
knees, half fainting, at her father's feet, amid a flood of
tears and sighs.
The bystanders were delighted; the father got credit
for his conduct: the son also, and the two friends, for their
prudent advice. The Corregidor invited them all to his
house; the prior of the monastery showed them great hospitality;
the pilgrims visited all the relics, which are very
numerous, holy, and rich. They confessed themselves, received
the Sacrament, and during the time they stayed, Don
Francisco sent for the child, which the shepherd's sister had
brought him, and which was the same that Rosanio delivered
to Periander. It was so lovely, that the grandfather,
when he saw it, forgetting all his cause for anger, exclaimed,
"A blessing on the mother who bore thee, and on thy father
also;" and taking it into his arms, he covered it with kisses
and tears.
Feliciana, with her father, brother, and husband, returned
home, taking the child with them, all well pleased with the
happy conclusion of the business.
The pilgrims stayed four days at Guadaloupe, during
which they began seeing the monastery. I say they began
to see it, because, to come to the end of seeing its many
wonders, would be impossible. They next went to Truxillo,
where they met with a most friendly reception from
the two noble gentlemen, Don Francisco Pizarro and Don
Juan de Orellana. There, the story of Feliciana was again
discussed, and her voice and conduct met with due praise,
as well as the kind behaviour of her father and brother.
From Truxillo they went, after about two days' stay, to
Talavera, where they found preparations making to celebrate
the great feast of the world, whose origin began many
years before the birth of Christ, and which Christians have
brought to so good a conclusion, that what the Heathens
did in honour of the goddess Venus, is now devoted to celebrate
the praise of the blessed Virgin. They would much
have liked to see this, but not wishing for any delay, they
went on without satisfying their desire.
(Note.) There are here three Chapters omitted, Chap. 6, 7, and 8,
in order to shorten the Story a little, and not possessing much interest
or merit.
CHAPTER IX.
The spirits of Antonio rose when he breathed
again his native air. Ricla and her two children
rejoiced to think that they soon should
see,—she, her father and mother-in-law, and
they, their grand-parents, for Antonio had
discovered that they were yet living, in spite of the grief that
his absence had given them. He also heard that his adversary
had inherited his father's estate, and that he had died
in amity with his (Antonio's) father, because it had been
proved, from many circumstances, that what Antonio did
was not an affront, because they were words spoken in the
heat of a quarrel, and with drawn swords, and that the
glitter of steel takes away the strength of words, and such
words as are spoken with the sword drawn are not affronts,
though they may be aggravating: so he who wishes to avenge
himself for them, has only to chastise an offence, and not
to satisfy himself for an affront as happened in this case.
Let us suppose that I mention a fact which is as clear as the
day; I am answered that it is an error, that I lie, and shall
lie every time I repeat the said fact; and this is supported
moreover by the person who utters it clapping his hand on
the hilt of his sword, by way of maintaining his assertion.
I, who am thus given the lie, have no need to return to the
fact I mentioned, which cannot be denied, but I am obliged
to chastise the person who gave me the lie for his want of
respect; else he who has had the lie direct given to him,
could not meet any one in the field till he has received satisfaction:
as I before said, there is a great difference between
an affront and an injury; in short, I say that Antonio
knew that his father and his former enemy were friends,
and that since they were so, they must have considered all
the circumstances of his case thoroughly.
Pleased and contented with this good news, he set off
again on his journey with his companions, to whom he told
all he had heard of his affairs, and that a brother of the
man he had considered his enemy, had inherited the estates,
and was living on the same friendly terms with his father as
his deceased brother had done. It was Antonio's wish that
none of them should do anything but as he ordered, as he
intended to make them known to his father, not suddenly,
but in some circuitous way, so as to increase the pleasure
of the discovery, for sometimes too sudden a joy will kill
like a sudden grief.
About three days' more travel brought them at dusk to
his father's house. The father and mother were sitting at
the door of their house, enjoying the freshness of the evening
air, for it was the summer season. They all approached
together, and Antonio spoke first to his father. "Is there
by chance in this place a hospital for pilgrims, sir?" he asked.
"As our inhabitants are good Christians," replied the
father, "every house is an hospital for pilgrims, and if no
other should be so, mine, as far as it goes, may serve for
you all."
"Is not this place called Quintanas de la Orden, sir,"
asked Antonio; "and does not a person live here called by
some a gentleman of the name of Villaseñores? I ask you
this, because I knew a man of this name in far distant
countries, and if he was here, neither I nor my companions
need go anywhere for a lodging."
"And what was the name of this Villaseñores of whom
you speak?" asked the mother.
"He was called Antonio," replied Antonio, "and his
father's name was, if I remember right, Diego de Villaseñor."
"Ah, sir!" cried the mother, rising from her seat, "and
to my sorrow it is now seventeen years that he has been
missing from his native land. How many tears, sighs, and
prayers, have been exhausted for his restoration to me;
would to God that these eyes may ever again behold him,
before they are closed in eternal night. Tell me, is it long
since you saw him? is it long since you left him? was he
in good health? did he talk of returning home? does he remember
his parents, to whom he may now come back, for
he has no enemies to hinder his doing so. Those who caused
his departure from his own country, are now friends."
The old father listened to all these words, and then called
aloud to his servants to bring lights, and to admit into the
house the pilgrim guests, and going up to his as yet unknown
son, he embraced him closely, saying, "For your sake alone
I would gladly give you all lodging, even though it were not
my custom to receive pilgrims, but now this glad tidings
that you have brought increases my inclination to do so,
and makes me doubly desirous to serve you."
By this time the servants had brought lights, and shown
the pilgrims into the house; and from the middle of a
spacious court, which they entered, came forth two pretty
and well-mannered young girls, sisters of Antonio, who had
both been born since he went away. They were charmed
with the beauty of Auristella, and the loveliness of Constance,
their niece, also with the pleasant looks of their sister-in-law,
Ricla. They could not sufficiently load them
with blessings and embraces; but when they expected to
see their father enter with the new guests, they saw a confused
crowd of people come in also, bringing on their shoulders,
upon a seat, a seemingly dead man, whom they knew
at once to be the count, who had inherited the estates of
him who once had been their brother's enemy. The tumult
of the crowd, the confusion that their parents were in,
and the care of receiving their new guests embarrassed them
so much that they knew not whom to turn to, nor whom
to ask for the cause of all this disturbance. Their parents
had the count brought in; he was shot through the shoulders
with a ball in an affray between two parties of soldiers,
who were lodged in the town, and the townspeople; the ball
had passed through into his breast, and on seeing himself
wounded, he had ordered his servants to carry him to the
house of Diego de Villaseñor, his friend, and he was brought
thither exactly at the very moment when he was about to
offer hospitality to his son, his daughter-in-law, and his
two grand-children, and to Periander and Auristella. She,
taking Antonio's sisters by the hand, prayed that they would
take her away from all the tumult, and allow her to rest in
some apartment where she might be alone. They did as
she desired, not without again admiring her peerless beauty.
Constance, who felt the force of kindred blood animate
her heart, neither wished nor would separate from her aunts,
who were both of the same age, and of equal beauty. The
same feelings actuated the boy Antonio, who, forgetful of
all the laws of good breeding and the obligations he owed
to his hosts, was so bold in his delight as to embrace one of
his aunts, which a servant of the family seeing, said, "For
your life, sir pilgrim, keep your hands quiet, for the master
of this house is not a man to be trifled with, and you will
have to beat a retreat in spite of your shameless behaviour."
"By Heaven, my friend," answered the boy, "this that
I have done is very little to what I intend doing, if Heaven
favours my wish, which is to be at the service of these fair
ladies, and all those of the house."
Meanwhile the wounded man had been placed in a rich
bed, and two surgeons called in, who staunched the blood
and examined the wound, which they pronounced mortal,
and beyond all human remedies. The whole town was in
arms against the soldiers, who had marched out into the
country in battle array, ready to fight if the people came out
to attack them. For some time, little availed the anxiety of
the commanding officers to restore peace, nor the Christian
cares of the priests and monks of the town, the people of
which, a light cause will easily excite and rouse into commotion.
However, day came, and the soldiers were made
to march off by their officers, and the townspeople were
persuaded to remain within the town, in spite of the bad
feeling and anger the soldiers had excited.
By slow degrees, little by little, Antonio discovered himself
to his parents, and presented to them their two grand-children
and daughter-in-law, whom they received with
many tears. The beauty of Auristella, and the grace of Periander,
gained admiration from all eyes and hearts. This pleasure,
as unexpected as it was great,—this unlooked-for arrival
of his son and his family, interrupted, and for a time almost
did away with the sad misfortune of the count, who grew
worse and worse every hour; however, he presented his
children to him, and anew offered him the services of the
whole family, and everything that could be required for his
comfort and convenience; for although he had wished to
remove to his own house, it would not have been possible,
so slight were the hopes of his recovery.
Auristella and Constance never left his bedside, but, moved
by Christian compassion and kindness, made themselves
his nurses, against the desire of the surgeons, who ordered
him to be left alone, or at least not attended by the women.
But Heaven, that directs and disposes all things in a manner
which we cannot fathom, so ordered it in this case, that
the count's last hour drawing nigh, he one day, before he
took a final leave of them all, sent for Diego de Villaseñor,
and when they were alone together, spoke to him thus:—"I
left home intending to go to Rome this year, in which
the supreme Pontiff has opened the ark of the Church's treasure,
and made known to us as in a holy year, the infinite
graces that are to be obtained thereby. I meant to travel
expeditiously, but as a poor pilgrim, rather than as a rich
gentleman. I entered this town, found an affray going on,
as you have heard, between the soldiers who were lodging
in it, and the inhabitants: I mingled with them, and in
trying to save the lives of others, have lost my own, for this
wound so treacherously dealt, as I may say, will in a short
time end my existence. I do not know by whose hand it
was given, for in these popular tumults all is confusion.
My death will not grieve me, unless it should be the cause
of that of others, either for justice, or to avenge mine. Nevertheless,
to do all that is in my power, I here say that I
forgive my murderer, and all who may have been guilty
with him; and I also desire to show my gratitude for all
the kindness I have received in your house, and the mark
I wish to give will be the very greatest you can possibly
imagine. In the two chests, which you see here, which
contain my wardrobe, I believe I have as much as twenty
thousand ducats in gold and in jewels, which do not take
up much room; and if this sum, instead of being so small,
was as great as the mines of Potosí contain, I would do the
same with it as I am now doing. Take it then, or rather
make the lady Constance your grand-daughter, take it, for
I give it to her in earnest as a marriage portion; and further,
I desire to espouse her myself; so that although she
will be speedily a widow, she will be at the same time honoured
as a wife and a maid. Send for her hither, and fetch
a priest to perform the ceremony. Her merit, her beauty,
and her Christian virtues, make her worthy to be queen
of the whole world. Do not be surprised, sir, at what you
hear, and believe all I say, for it will be no such monstrous
novelty for a nobleman to marry a poor gentleman's daughter,
in whom unites every quality that can make a woman
desirable. Heaven wills it—my own wishes lead me to it.
Go then, be discreet, and without answering a word, fetch
some one who can perform the marriage ceremony between
me and your grand-daughter, and also some one who can
draw up the writings about the money and jewels, so that
no slander can ever undo that which I bestow on her."
Villaseñor was greatly astonished at this discourse, and
believed that without a doubt the count's senses were bewildered,
and that his death was near at hand, since at that
moment, for the most part, men either say very fine things
or very great follies; and so he answered thus:—"My lord,
I trust in God that you will recover your health, and then
you will more clearly see; and when no pain disturbs you,
more plainly feel what you are about as to the way you
wish to bestow your wealth; and the wife you will choose,
my grand-child, is not your equal. She is very far from
deserving the honour of being your wife; and I am not so
greedy as to wish to buy the honour you would do me, with
what vulgar tongues would surely say (always ready to believe
evil). It seems to me that it would be said that I had
you in my house, that I worked upon your mind, and did
all this from avarice."
"Let the world say what it likes," said the count; "if
the vulgar portion of it will deceive itself, then let it be deceived
in what it thinks of you."
"Well then," said Villaseñor, "I will not be so foolish
as to set myself against the good fortune that offers itself
to me;" and so saying, he left the room, and related what
the count had said, to his wife and grand-children, and to
Periander and Auristella, who were of opinion that without
delay the offer should be accepted, and a person sent for
to bring the affair to a conclusion.
He did so, and in less than two hours Constance was
married to the count, and the gold and jewels in her possession,
with all the securities and confirmations that could
possibly be made. There was no music at this wedding,
only sighs and tears, for the life of the count was ebbing
fast away. On the day that followed the marriage ceremony,
they all received the Sacrament, and the count expired
in the arms of his wife, the countess Constance, who,
covering her head with a black veil, fell on her knees, and
raising her eyes to Heaven, she began to say, "I vow;"
but hardly had she begun to speak, when she was stopped
by Auristella. "What are you going to vow?" said she.
"To become a nun," replied the countess. "Stay and
consider this," answered Auristella; "those things we would
do to serve God ought not to be done in haste; nor as if
they were impelled by some sudden accident; and as it is
owing to your husband's death that you are about to make
this vow, which afterwards, perhaps, you may not wish
to fulfil, leave your will in the hands of God; and your
own discretion, and that of your parents and relations, will
be able to advise and direct you in the path it will be best
to take, and give orders for the interment of your husband;
and trust in God, that since you have been so unexpectedly
made a countess, it may please him to bestow some other
title and honour that will be more lasting than this is."
The countess yielded to this reasoning, and gave directions
concerning the funeral of the count. A younger brother
arrived, to whom the news had been sent at Salamanca,
where he was studying. He wept for his brother's death,
but the expectation of his inheritance helped to dry the tears.
When he heard what had been done, he embraced his sister-in-law,
and did not contest the gift. He buried his brother
so as to remove him afterwards to his own place, and set
out for the king's court, to demand justice against his murderers.
He gained his suit,—the captains were beheaded,
and many of the townspeople received punishment. Constance
remained with the rank and title of countess.
Periander began to think of continuing their journey, in
which the elder Antonio no longer wished to bear him
company; neither did his wife Ricla, weary of such long
pilgrimages and wanderings, which had not, however, tired
their son Antonio, nor the young countess, who could not
exist separate from Auristella and Periander.
All this time Antonio had never shown his grandfather
the canvass on which their history was painted. One day
he was displaying it, and telling the story, he observed that
one part was still wanting—that of how Auristella got to the
barbarous isle, when she and Periander had met in changed
attire; she, in that of a man, and he, dressed in female garments—a
strange metamorphosis—to which Auristella answered,
"That it would be told in a few words, that when
the pirates stole her and Clelia, with the two young wives
of the fishermen, from the shores of Denmark, they came
to an uninhabited island, in order to divide their spoil, and
not being able to do this equally, one of the chief among
them said, 'He should be satisfied with herself as his share,'
and even added gifts to those of the others to make them
more equal. Thus," said she, "was I thrown into his
power alone, and deprived of a companion to alleviate my
misfortunes. He made me put on the dress of a man, and
thus I accompanied him to many different places, serving
and obeying him in all that was consistent with honour.
At length we arrived at the barbarous isle, there we were
surprised and made prisoners by the barbarians. He died
in the affray, and I was thrown into the prison cave, where
I found my beloved Clelia, who by other not less unfortunate
adventures had been brought hither. From her
I learned the history of these barbarians, the vain superstition
that they held, and the ridiculous and false prophecy.
She also told me that she had great reason to believe that
my brother Periander had been in the same dungeon, but
she had not been able to speak to him, from the haste the
barbarians were in to drag him out to be sacrificed. I wished
to accompany Clelia to ascertain the truth, as I was in the
dress of a man, and in spite of her entreaties, who would
fain have prevented my doing so, I willingly delivered myself
to be sacrificed by the barbarians, persuaded that it
would be infinitely better to end my life at once, than to
be perpetually in danger of losing it day after day. And
now I have nothing more to say, since you all know well
what followed after this."
The old Villaseñor wished this also to be added to the
picture, and all agreed that it should be done, and that the
history of such wonderful and unheard-of adventures ought
not to be merely depicted upon a perishable canvass, but
should be written on tables of bronze, and graven on the
memories of men.
Meanwhile Villaseñor desired to keep the picture, if only
to look upon the well portrayed likenesses of his children,
and the unequalled beauty of Periander and Auristella.
In a few days the departure was determined upon, that
they might accomplish their vow at Rome. Antonio, the
father, remained at home, but the younger Antonio would
not stay behind, nor his sister, the young Constance, whose
affection for Auristella was such, as I have said before, that
it would have carried her, not only to Rome, but if it could
be done together, she would gladly have accompanied her
to the other world.
The day of parting came, and they had tears, and embraces,
and grievous sighs, especially from Ricla, who felt
in losing her children as if her very heart went with them.
The grandfather bestowed his blessing upon them all, for
the blessing of an old person is a thing that avails much in
such undertakings.
They took one of the servants of the house along with
them to be of service on the journey, and set out, leaving
the parental home sorrowful; and half in joy, half in sadness,
went on their way.
CHAPTER X.
Long pilgrimages involve various events, and
as this variety is composed of different things,
so also must the causes be different. Our
history shows this well; the thread of it is
broken by the incidents that occur, making
us doubt whether to relate them, because all that happens
is not good to be narrated, and may be passed over without
notice, and without lessening the interest of the story.
There are some actions although great, yet upon which we
ought to be silent; others so small they are not worthy of
being described; for the excellence of this history is, that
everything therein written has the relish or seasoning of the
truth that goes along with it, which a fabulous history has
not. It is necessary in it to suit the events with correct
taste, and with so much probability, that in spite of the
fiction which would clash with the understanding, the whole
may be harmonious.
Profiting then by this truth, I will tell you how the lovely
little band of pilgrims, pursuing their journey, arrived at a
place, neither very large nor very small, the name of which
I forget; and in the midst of the open place of the town,
through which they must necessarily pass, they saw a crowd
of persons, all attentively listening to, and looking at, two
young men, in the garb of recently freed captives, who were
describing the story of a painting that lay on the ground before
them. It appeared that they had taken off two heavy
chains that were near them,—proofs and witnesses of their
misfortunes;—and one of them, who appeared about four-and-twenty
years old, spoke in a clear voice, and very eloquent
tongue, ever and anon cracking a sort of whip that
he held in his hand, in such a way as to make a sound in
the air like what a coachman makes when he chastises or
threatens his horses, by cracking his driving whip over their
heads.
Among those who were listening to the long story, were
the two Alcaldes of the town, both old men, but one rather
younger than the other. The freed captive was thus saying:—"Here,
gentlemen, you may see the picture of the
town of Algiers, that bugbear and terror of all the shores of
the Mediterranean Sea; the harbour of all pirates; the shelter
and refuge of thieves and robbers, who, from this little
port you here see pictured, go forth with their vessels to disturb
the world, for they are bold enough even to pass the ne
plus ultra of the pillars of Hercules, and attack and pillage
the scattered islands that lie up and down in the immense
ocean, fancying themselves secure, at least from the Turkish
ships. This vessel, which is here painted so small because
the size of the painting obliges it to be reduced, is a
galley of two and twenty oars;—the master and captain of
her is the Turk you see there, standing up in the gangway
with an arm in his hand that he has just cut off from the
body of the Christian you see there also, and which he is
using as a whip or a rope's end for the other Christians
who are bound fast to the benches. He is fearing lest those
four galleys that you perceive here giving chase, should
reach him. This first captive of the foremost row of
benches, whose countenance is disfigured by the blood
that has dripped over it from the severed arm, is myself,
who served as stern-rower in this galley. The other who
is next to me, is my companion, less bloody, because less
wounded. Listen, gentlemen, and pay attention, and you
may possibly hear the threats and abusive words uttered by
this Dog, Dragut, for that is the name of the captain of the
galley. A pirate as famous as he is cruel, and as cruel as
Phalaris, or Busiris, the Sicilian tyrants, I seem to hear now
sounding in my ears, the fierce Moorish oaths which he was
then uttering with the air of a demon; Moorish oaths and
words, all expressing contempt and abuse against the Christians,
calling them Jews, worthless, vile, and faithless, and
to make the terror and horror greater, he beat the living
bodies with the dead arms severed from them."
It seems that one of the two Alcaldes had been an Algerine
captive for a long period, and in a low voice he said
to his companion, "This captive has seemed to speak the
truth so far, and so appears to be really what he says he is;
but I will examine him in a few particulars, and we will
see how he can answer me, for I would have you know
that I was in this very galley, and I do not recollect any
man as first oar, except one Alonzo Moclin, a native of
Vélez Málaga," and turning to the captive, he said to him,
"Pray tell me, friend, whose galleys were those that chased
yours? and did you obtain the freedom you desired by their
means?" "The galleys," answered he, "were Don Sancho
de Leiva's; we did not obtain our liberty, for they did not
come up with us. We gained it afterwards, for we fell in
with a ship, bound to Algiers from Sargel, laden with
wheat. We came in her to Oran, and from thence to Málaga,
from whence my companion and I set out for Italy,
in the intention of serving his majesty (whom may God
preserve!) as soldiers." "Tell me, friends," said the Alcalde,
"you two captives, were you taken to Algiers at first, or to
any other part of Barbary?"
"We were not made prisoners together," replied the
other captive, "for I was taken near Alicant in a vessel laden
with wool, going to Genoa,—my companion in the Percheles[N]
of Málaga, where he was a fisherman. We became
acquainted in a dungeon at Tetuan; we have been friends
and shared the same fortune for a long while, and for ten
or twelve quartos,[O] which is all you have offered us, we
have given full information to my lord Alcalde."
"Not much, my young gentleman," replied the Alcalde,
"you have not gone through the whole ordeal of the question
yet. Listen to me, and say, how many doors are there
in Algiers? how many fountains, and how many wells of
sweet water?"
"A foolish question," answered the first captive. "As
many doors as houses;—I do not know how many fountains,
and so many wells, that I have not seen half; and the troubles
I underwent there have gone nigh to take away almost the
memory of myself; and if my lord Alcalde wishes to be
uncharitable, we will gather up our pence, and strike our
tent and say adieu, for there's as good bread to be got elsewhere
as here."[P]
Then the Alcalde called to a man among the bystanders
looking in, who held the office of the town's crier sometimes,
and sometimes that of executioner when needful, and
said, "Gil Berrueco, go and fetch me here the first two
asses you can catch; for by the life of our lord the king, I will
make these two captive gentlemen ride through the streets,
who have taken the liberty of usurping the alms of the charitable,
which belong of right to the real poor, and telling
lies and inventions, whilst they are all the time as whole and
sound as an apple, and more able and fit to use their spades
than to be flourishing whips senselessly in the air. I was
a slave in Algiers five years, and I know that they have said
no one thing to show they ever were there."
"Body o' me!" cried the captive; "is it possible that
my lord Alcalde can expect that poor as we are in worldly
gifts, we should be so rich in those of memory, and that
for a folly not worth three farthings, he will put to shame
two such insignificant students as ourselves, and deprive his
majesty of two brave soldiers on their way to Italy and
Flanders to rout and destroy, and wound and kill, all the
enemies of our holy Catholic faith that we may encounter.
For if we must needs tell the truth, who is of heavenly
birth, my lord Alcalde must know that we are no captives,
but students from Salamanca, who, in the midst of our
studies, felt a desire to see the world, and to know a little
of the life of a soldier, as we were acquainted sufficiently
with a peaceful life. To carry our scheme the better
into effect, we happened to light upon a party of captives,
who might be true, or false, like ourselves; I cannot
say if they were or not. From them we bought the canvass
and picture, and obtained information respecting Algiers,
and such things as seemed necessary to us to render
our fraud credible. We sold our books and our furniture
at a low price, and laden with this apparatus, have travelled
thus far, and we think of going on, if your worship does not
forbid it."
"What I am thinking of doing," said the Alcalde, "is
to give each of you a hundred lashes, and in lieu of the pike
you talk of wielding in Flanders, put an oar into your hands
to work with at the galleys, with which you may perhaps
be as serviceable to his majesty as you would be with the
pike."
"I could wish," rejoined the young man, who had been
the principal speaker, "that my lord Alcalde was an Athenian
legislator, and that the severity of his office reached the
ears of the other lords of the council, where, obtaining
credit from them, they would hold him as a severe and rigid
judge, and commit to him matters of importance, wherein
he might show his severity and his justice. But my lord
Alcalde knows that 'Summum jus summa injuria.'"
"See how you talk, friend," replied the second Alcalde;
"here there is no justice without reason; but all the Alcaldes
of this place, have ever been, are, and will be, pure
and faithful, and it will be better for you to talk less."
At this instant the crier returned and said, "My lord
Alcalde, I can find no asses in the place, only the two magistrates,
Berrueco and Crespo, who are taking their ride."
"I sent you for asses, not magistrates, blockhead! but
go and bring them hither, whether they will or no; I
wish to have them present at the pronunciation of this sentence,
which shall be given notwithstanding, and is not to
fail for want of asses, of which, thank God, we have plenty
in this place."
"You will never have them in Heaven, my lord Alcalde,"
said the youth, "if you go on thus severely. Please
to consider that we have stolen nothing; we have hardly
gained a miserable sustenance by our trick, which is laborious
enough, like the business of a day labourer, or any
workmen. Our parents taught us no trade, thus we were
obliged to have recourse to our wits. Punish those who are
guilty of bribery, of house-breaking, highwaymen, false witnesses,
disaffected or disloyal men, the idle and the good-for-nothing,
but let alone the poor fellows who go straight forward
to serve his majesty, with their best right hand, and
their sharpest ingenuity. There are no better soldiers than
those who are transplanted from the seats of learning to the
fields of war. None ever left his studies to be a soldier
who was not a super-excellent one, for when strength and
intellect meet and join, they make a marvellous composition,
with which Mars rejoices, peace is maintained, and
the country aggrandized."
Periander and most of the bystanders admired much what
the young man said, and the fluency of his discourse. He
proceeded thus:—"Let us examine closely into this matter,
my lord Alcalde. Look, and look again, and scrutinize the
seams of our garments; if you can find six reals, not only
you may give us a hundred, but six hundred lashes. Let
us see then if the acquisition of so small an amount of gain
deserves to be punished with dishonour, and martyred with
the galleys. And again I say that my lord Alcalde should
think better of this, and not overhastily do that which may
perhaps give him reason to repent by and by. Discreet
judges punish, but do not take vengeance upon faults. The
prudent and compassionate mingle equity with justice, and
between rigour and clemency prove their excellent judgment."
"By Heaven," said the second Alcalde, "but the boy
talks well, although he talks too much, and I not only will
not consent that they be flogged, but I will have them carried
to my own house, and help them on with their journey,
on condition that they go straight forwards, for if they
are to be wandering here and there, it will prove them rather
vicious than necessitous."
The first Alcalde, already tamer and becoming compassionate,
more mildly said, "I will not have them go to
your house, they shall go to mine, where I will give them a
lesson upon the state of things at Algiers, so that for the
future nobody shall be able to catch them tripping in their
pretended story."
The two lads thanked him. The bystanders praised this
kind intention of the Alcalde's, and our pilgrims were delighted
with the result of the affair.
The first Alcalde then came up to Periander, and said,
"And you, friend pilgrims, have you got any picture with
you to tell us about? Have you any history to relate, and
make us believe it true, although falsehood herself may have
composed it?"
Periander made no answer, for he saw Antonio pulling
out the passports, licenses, and dispatches that they carried
with them, and placing them in the Alcalde's hands, he said,
"Your worship may see by these papers who we are, and
where we are going, but we do not think it necessary to
produce them, as we ask no alms, and have no need to ask
any. Thus, you perceive, you may let us pass on freely."
The Alcalde took the papers, and because he did not
know how to read, he gave them to his companion, who
knew as little as he did, and so they passed on into the hands
of their clerk, who, glancing over them rapidly, returned
them to Antonio, saying, "My lord Alcalde, there is as
much worth and goodness as there is beauty in these pilgrims:
if they wish to remain here to-night, my house shall
serve them for an inn, and I shall attend to their wishes to
the utmost of my power."
Periander thanked him; they stayed there that night, as
it was late; and they were accommodated at the clerk's
house with kindness, abundance, and cleanliness.
FOOTNOTES:
[N] Suburbs or districts near the sea-shore, so called from the pieces
of timber on which the fish are spread and dried.
[P]
Tan buen pan hacen aquí como en Francia. (Proverb.)
CHAPTER XI.
Day came, and with it the thanks of hospitality
received, and once more the pilgrims
were on their way. As they were leaving
the town, they fell in with the false captives,
who told them that they had been instructed
by the Alcalde in such a way that they could never
again be caught in a falsehood as to Algerine matters:[Q] "So
that sometimes," said one, (he who was the chief spokesman)
"sometimes one may rob by authority of the magistrate,—I
mean that sometimes a bad minister of justice connives
at delinquency for the sake of interest."
They travelled on together till they came to where the
road branched off in two separate directions. The captives
took that which led to Carthagena, and the pilgrims that
to Valencia.
Now had Aurora come forth from her eastern balconies,
blotting out the stars, and adorning the path whereon the
sun was to take his accustomed course. Bartholomew, for
so I think the lad who had the baggage mule in charge was
named, seeing so bright and beautiful a sunrise tinging the
clouds in the sky with such a variety of hues, so that nothing
ever was seen more lovely and pleasing, exclaimed,
"That man who used to preach in our town said what was
very true, when he told us that heaven and earth declared
the glory and greatness of God; and if I did not know God
as I have been taught to do, by my parents and by the priests
at home, I think I should trace and know him now, by seeing
the glory of that sky which seems to tell how great He
is; and by yonder sun that lights us, which although it
looks no bigger than a shield, is many times larger than the
whole earth; and as they tell me also, even more than that,
he is so active, that in twenty-four hours he can travel more
than three hundred thousand leagues; whether this be true
or no, I know not, but many wise men say so, and therefore
I believe it, although it is rather hard to understand; but the
thing that makes me wonder most is, that underneath us
there are other people whom they call Antipodes, so that we
above have our feet upon their heads,—a thing that seems
to me quite impossible,—for to support so great a load their
heads must need be made of iron."
Periander smiled at the rustic learning of the boy, and
said to him, "I would fain seek for such words, O Bartholomew,
as should show you the error you are labouring
under, and the true form of the earth, to understand which
it is necessary to go back to the beginning; but to assist
your comprehension, I must limit my explanation, and tell
you only one thing, which is that you must understand that
the earth is the centre of the heavens; I call the centre an
indivisible point, to which all the lines of its circumference
go: you can but little comprehend this, and so you must
be satisfied to know that the earth has everywhere the sky
above it; and in whatever part of it a man may be, he will
always have the sky over his head; and so as that sky you
see above covers you, does it also cover the Antipodes, without
hindrance, and as it is ordained by Nature, who is the
head servant or steward to God, the Creator of Heaven and
earth."
The boy was well pleased to listen to Periander's words,
which also gave pleasure to Auristella, to the countess, and
her brother.
With these and other things, as they travelled, Periander
instructed and entertained them, when they heard behind
them, a cart accompanied by seven archers on foot and one
on horseback, with a musket hanging to his saddle-bow.
He came up to Periander and said, "If you should have
any cordial or restorative among you, Sir Pilgrims, as I think
you possibly may, since, from your appearance, I should
judge you rather to be rich gentlefolk than poor pilgrims; I
entreat you to give me some for a poor fellow who is lying
in a swoon in yonder cart, condemned to the galleys for two
years with twelve more soldiers, who, for having been present
at the death of a nobleman, some days ago, and found
guilty thereof, are condemned to the oar, and their commander,
as more guilty, I believe, has been beheaded."
The fair Constance, on hearing this, could not restrain
her tears, for she recognised in this story the death of her
short-lived husband; but, listening rather to the dictates of
humanity than to thoughts of revenge, she ran to the baggage
mule, and took out a case of cordials, and going to the
cart, she asked, "Where is the fainting person?" One of
the soldiers answered, "He is there, lying in that corner,
his face anointed by the grease that is used for the wheels,
because he does not wish to be a pretty corpse when he dies,
and that will be soon, if he continues obstinate in refusing
to eat anything."
The youth raised his head on hearing these words, and
removing from his face an old hat which covered it entirely,
showed it to Constance, all begrimed with dirt and grease,
and, stretching out his hand to receive the cordial she held,
he took it, saying, "Heaven reward you, lady." He then
pulled his hat again over his eyes, and returned to his melancholy
and to the corner where he wished to die. There
was some further talk between the pilgrims and the guards
of the cart, which ended by their taking different roads.
In a few days our pilgrims reached a place which was
inhabited by the Moors. It was about a league from the
sea, in the kingdom of Valencia. They found here no inn
where they could lodge; but at all the houses they were
hospitably invited to come in, which Antonio seeing, said,
"I do not know what they mean by speaking ill of these
people, they all seem to me saints."
"Our Saviour," said Periander, "was received at Jerusalem
with palms, by the very same people, who, in a short
time after, crucified him. Now 'tis well, we will trust to
God and take our chance, as they say. Let us accept the
invitation of this good old gentleman who has offered us
hospitality."
So it was, an old Moor almost forcibly drew the pilgrims
by their long garments into his house, and seemed anxious
to treat them not as Moors, but truly in a Christian manner.
His daughter came forward to offer her services,
dressed in the Moorish fashion, and so lovely she looked in
it, that the most graceful Christian would have been happy
to look like her, for Nature in bestowing charms is as prodigal
to the barbarian of Scythia as to the citizen of Toledo.
This beautiful Moorish damsel then, taking Auristella and
Constance by the hands, led them into a room on the ground-floor,
looked cautiously all round her as if fearful of being
overheard; and when she had assured herself that she was
quite safe, she said, "Alas! dear ladies, why is it that you
have come here like simple lambs to the slaughter-house?
Do you see that old man, whom I with shame and sorrow
call my father? Do you note the extraordinary kindness of
his reception? Know that he means nothing else than to
be your executioner. It is intended that this night seventeen
Barbary pirate vessels are to carry off all the people of
this place with all their property, not leaving a thing behind
that shall make any one desire to return in search of it.
These unfortunate creatures imagine that in Barbary they
shall find both pleasure for their bodies and salvation for
their souls, without recollecting that of many towns, the inhabitants
of which have gone over almost entirely, no news
have been received but that they have repented. The Barbary
Moors cry up the glories of their land, and those of
this country run thither to see them, and are caught in the
nets of their misfortune. If you would escape from this,
and would preserve the liberty you were born to, leave this
house at once, and hasten to the church; there you will
find a friend to give you shelter. He is the priest of the
place; he and the notary are the only Christians here; you
will also find there Iarife, the (Jadraque),[R] who is my uncle,
a Moor only in name, but Christian in everything else.
Tell him what is doing, and say that Rafaella told you so;
you will then be believed and protected; and do not treat
it as a jest, unless you wish to find at your cost there is no
greater deception than a too late discovery of one."
The earnestness with which Rafaella spoke went to the
hearts of Auristella and Constance, and they believed her
words, and only replied by thanks. They immediately
called Periander and Antonio, and told them what had
passed. Then, without seeming to do anything particular,
they all went out. Bartholomew objected much to the
move, for he felt more in need of rest than a change of
abode; but he obeyed his masters, and they reached the
church, where they were well received by the priest and
the Jadraque, to whom they related all Rafaella had told
them. The priest said, "It is some days, gentlemen, since
the arrival of these vessels has disturbed us, and although it
is customary for them to come, yet I have felt uneasy.
Come in hither, my children, the church is a good castle,
and has strong and good doors, not easily burnt or destroyed."
"Ah," said the Jadraque, "if that my eyes may but see,
before they close for ever, this land freed from the thorns
and the briers that oppress it. Ah! when will the time
come, foretold by my grandfather, who was a learned astrologer,
when Spain shall see herself entire and firm in the
Christian religion, for she alone is the corner of the earth
where the true faith is most acknowledged and revered. I
am a Moor, sirs, and you hear that I deny it not, but not for
this am I the less a Christian, for God gives his grace to all
who serve him, and as you know, he makes his sun shine alike
upon the good and the bad, and bestows his rain equally on
the just and the unjust. I say, then, that this grandfather of
mine used to fore-tell that, about this time, there would reign
in Spain a king of the house of Austria (Note 7), who would
conceive in his soul the difficult resolution of expelling the
Moors from the country, as one flings from one's bosom a
serpent that is devouring one's entrails, or rather, as one who
separates the wild flowers from the wheat, and pulls out
the weeds from the growing grain. Come, then, brave
youth, and prudent king, and execute this decree of expulsion;
let not the fear of rendering this country desert and
depopulated, deter thee, nor even the consideration that
there are many who have been baptized whom it would not
be well to expel; for, although these are fears that deserve
to be considered, yet the carrying so great a work into effect
would make them not worth thinking of. Soon the land
would be re-peopled by Christians, it would again be fertile,
and more so than it is now: it would have its lords,
and, if not so many or such humble vassals as now, yet
they would be good Catholics, under whose protection their
roads would be secure, and peace would reign, and riches
increase without fear of robbers and highwaymen."
After having thus spoken, he made the doors fast, and
fortified them by putting all the seats and benches against
them. They then mounted to the top of the tower, taking
up a portable ladder, or steps. The priest carried up with
him the holy vessels belonging to the sacrament, provided
a store of stones, and armed himself with two loaded guns.
They left the baggage mule at the door relieved of its burden,
and Bartholomew shut himself in with his masters.
With watchful eyes, ready hands, and resolute hearts,
the little party awaited the hour of assault, of which the
Moorish maiden had given them warning.
Midnight passed, the priest knew it by the stars; they
looked out upon the sea which lay before them, and not a
cloud passed over in the moonlight, but they fancied it a
Moorish bark, and, applying themselves to the bells, they
began to raise a peal so loud and vigorous that every valley
and all the shores resounded again; at which sound the
officials in the harbour assembled together, and ran here and
there, but their haste was of no use in preventing the vessels
approaching the shore and taking away the people from
land; those in the place who were expecting them, went
out laden with their most valuable property, and were received
by the Turks with loud cries and shouts, and the
sound of musical instruments.
They set fire to the place, and also to the church doors,
not meaning to enter in, but simply to do all the harm they
could. Bartholomew was left to go afoot, for they carried
off his mule, demolished a stone cross that stood at the entrance
of the town, called aloud upon Mahomet, and gave
themselves up to the Turks, a dishonest and thievish nation.
Several times, and perhaps not always in vain, did Periander
and Antonio fire their guns; many a stone did Bartholomew
throw, always to that quarter whence the mule
was stolen, and many an arrow was shot by the Jadraque;
but more than all were the tears that were shed by Auristella
and Constance, praying to God to deliver them from
the danger they were in, and that his temple might not be
injured by the fire, which it was not: it did not escape,
however, by a miracle, but because the doors were of iron,
and the fire not very strong.
It was nearly day when the ships laden with their prizes
went to sea with shouts of triumph and raising the Moorish
war cry, and the joyful sounds of atabals and trumpets.
Two persons were now seen running towards the church,
one from the shore, the other from the land side; on their
nearer approach, the Jadraque knew one to be his niece
Rafaella, who, with a cane cross in her hand, came, crying
out, "Christian, Christian, and free, free by the grace and
mercy of God!"
They recognized in the other the notary, who had by
chance been out of the town that night, and at the sound
of the alarm bell came to see the disastrous events, which
he deplored, not for the loss of wife or child, since he had
none, but for that of his house, which was plundered and
burned.
They waited till the day was far advanced, and the ships
began to disappear in the distance, and the coast guardians
had taken measures to protect the coast, then they descended
from the tower, and opened the church, which
Rafaella entered with her face bathed in joyful tears, and
her beauty heightened by her emotion. She knelt and
offered her prayers to the images, and then embraced her
uncle, first having kissed the hands of the good priest. The
notary neither said a prayer nor kissed the hand of anybody,
for his whole soul was occupied with the thoughts of his
lost property.
The first alarm having subsided, the fugitives recovered
their spirits, and the Jadraque recovering breath, began
afresh to think about his grandfather's prophecy as being undoubtedly
inspired from above.—"Ah! noble youth! ah!
invincible king, trample down and destroy all impediments,
and make Spain clear and free from my bad race, which now
infests and injures her. Ah! prince, as wise as thou art
illustrious, thou new Atlantis, who supportest the weight
of this kingdom, aid, and make easy with thy wisdom this
necessary expulsion; fill the seas with thy galleys laden with
the useless crowd of the Hagarene generation; cast upon
the opposite shores the brambles, weeds, and thorns that
hinder the growth and abundance of a Christian population;
for, if the few Hebrews who went over into Egypt
multiplied so exceedingly, that, when they went away, they
were in number more than seven hundred families, what is
not to be feared from those who are more numerous and live
more idly? Religion does not gather any under her wing,
none are cut down by the Indies; war does not diminish
their numbers; all marry, all, or most, have children;
hence it is to be inferred that they must increase and multiply
innumerably. Again, I say, arise, O king! arise, and
set to work, and leave the history of thy reign bright as
the sun, and clear as the blue sky above us."
Two days more the pilgrims stayed in this place. They
provided themselves with all they wanted; Bartholomew
got a new baggage mule; they thanked the priest for his
kindness, and praised the Jadraque for his right way of thinking,
and, embracing Rafaella, took their leave of all, and
went on their way.
As they travelled, they amused themselves by
talking over the past dangers, the good feeling
of the Jadraque, the gallant conduct of
the Priest, the zeal of Rafaella, whom they
had forgotten to question as to how she had
escaped from the power of the Turks when the assault was
made. However they guessed that she must have concealed
herself somewhere in order to gain her desire of living
and dying a Christian.
They reached Valencia, but would not enter the town
for fear they should be detained there; but they could not
fail of admiring its noble situation, the excellence of its inhabitants,
of which they had heard so much, the pleasantness
of its environs, and, finally, all that makes it beautiful
and rich beyond all other cities, not only in Spain, but in
all Europe; and chiefly they admired the beauty of the women,
and the pure and graceful language so sweet and pleasant,
that none but the Portuguese can compete with it in
sweetness and pleasantness.
They determined to go on and to lengthen their days'
journeys, even at the risk of being fatigued, to reach Barcelona,
where they heard they might find vessels in which to
embark for Genoa without going through France.
Nothing of any importance happened on the way to Barcelona,
unless that they saw afar off the holy mountains of
Montserrat, which they worshipped with Christian devotion
without designing to go there, as it must have detained
them.
They arrived at Barcelona at the moment when four
Spanish galleys were just entering the port, which fired a
salute of heavy artillery. Four boats were let down, one
of which was adorned with rich carpets from the Levant,
and crimson cushions, and in it was seated a young lady,
richly dressed, with another older lady, and two young girls,
neatly attired. A crowd of people came out of the city,
as is usually the custom, both to look at the galleys and the
persons who had come in them; and curiosity led our pilgrims
so near the boats when they landed, that they nearly
touched the lady as she stepped out of the boat. She, casting
her eyes around when she had got ashore, they lighted
upon Constance, and she said, "Come hither, lovely pilgrim,
and accompany me to the town, I have a debt to pay
to you of which you little think. Let your companions
come likewise, for there is no reason why you should leave
such good company."
"Yours, as far as I can see, is so good," replied Constance,
"that it would indeed be senseless to refuse it; let
us go where you please, my friends will follow, for they
never leave me."
The lady took Constance by the hand, and escorted by
many gentlemen, who had come out of the city to receive
her, and by some of the people who had landed from the
galleys, they proceeded together to the town. During their
walk, Constance never took her eyes off her, trying, but in
vain, to remember where she had ever seen her before.
They took up their lodging in one of the best houses,
and would not suffer the pilgrims to go elsewhere. As soon
as an opportunity occurred, this discourse took place between
them:—
"I would fain relieve you, my friends, from the wonder
you must be feeling, as to the cause I have for wishing
to be of service to you, and so I will inform you that my
name is Ambrosia Agustina, and my birth-place a city of
Aragón. Don Bernardo Agustina is my brother, and he
commands those galleys that lie in the bay. Contarino de
Arbolanchez, a knight of the order of Aleantara, during my
brother's absence, secretly and unknown to my relations,
fell in love with me, and I, led by my destiny, or, perhaps,
by my too great weakness, with the title of wife, made him
master of myself and my whole heart. The same day on
which I gave my hand to him, he received an order from
the king instantly to set off and conduct a regiment of Spanish
infantry (just come from Lombardy to Genoa) to Malta,
where it was expected that the Turks would make a descent.
Contarino obeyed without delay the orders he received;
without being moved by my tears, he departed. I felt as
if the sky had fallen upon my head, and that my heart was
pressed down between it and the earth. A few days passed,
when as one scheme after another entered my brain, I resolved
to put one into execution, the accomplishment of
which had well nigh cost me both life and honour. I left
my home in the disguise of a man, the dress of a young page
which I took, and engaged myself as servant to a drummer
in a regiment about eight leagues off; I soon learned to beat
the drum as well as my master, and to play the part of a
buffoon like those of my profession. Another regiment
joined ours, and both together marched to Carthagena, in
order to embark in the galleys commanded by my brother.
It was my intention to go over to Italy, and seek my husband,
from whose affection I hoped that my rash conduct would
escape censure, and that he would not find fault with my
wish to see him, which made me so blind that I never considered
the risk I ran of being discovered, if I embarked in
my brother's galley; but as no difficulties deter an enamoured
heart, and it sees none which it cannot conquer, no fears
it cannot oppose, no roughnesses it cannot make smooth,
I resisted all these, and hoped even in a kind of desperation.
But, as the event of things often turns out different to what
we expect, so mine, as ill considered as it was imprudent,
placed me in the situation you soon shall hear. The soldiers
of the regiments I mentioned, engaged in a cruel affray
with the people of a town in La Mancha, about lodgings, the
result of which was, that a certain count of some place, the
name of which I do not know, received his death-wound.
There was an enquiry made by the court, the captains were
taken into custody, the soldiers separated, and some, among
whom I, for my misfortune, was one, though quite guiltless
of any fault, condemned to the galleys to work two years
at the oar. In vain I lamented my fate, seeing how all my
plans were frustrated; I would gladly have died, but the
fear of a yet worse fate in another world made the knife
drop from my hand, and the rope from my throat; all I
did was to endeavour to deform my face, and make myself
as ugly as I could, and then shut myself up in a cart we were
put into, with the intention of weeping so much and eating
so little, that grief and hunger might do what the cord and
the knife had left undone. We reached Carthagena, where
the galleys were not yet arrived; we were put into a house
and well guarded, and there in fear and trembling I awaited
my fate. I know not, sirs, if you recollect a cart which
came up with you near a small inn, when this lovely pilgrim
(pointing to Constance) helped to restore a fainting
prisoner with some cordials."
"Yes," said Constance, "I remember it well."
"Then know that it was I whom you assisted," said the
lady Ambrosia. "From the place where I lay in the cart
I could see you all, and admired you, for your appearance
was such that it was impossible to look and not admire.
"The galleys came in at last with a Moorish brigantine
that they had taken; the same day the soldiers were put on
board in irons, the clothes they wore were taken off, and
they were dressed in those worn by the rowers. A sad
and miserable change, yet light, for the hardship that does
not destroy life, custom will at last alleviate. They came
to undress me, the boatswain ordered them to wash my
face, for I had not strength to lift an arm; the barber who
attended the crew looked at me and said, 'I shall spoil but
few razors with this beard. I wonder what they have sent
us this boy for, who looks as if he was made of china ware,
as if our galleys were made of gingerbread, and our oars of
sweetmeat. Eh, boy, what crime hast thou committed to
deserve this punishment? I doubt not but that thou art
brought to this by the sins of others;' and then continuing
his discourse to the boatswain, he said, 'Truly, master, it
would be much better to send this boy to the general with
a chain to his leg, for at the oar he won't be worth a farthing.'
"This talk, and the thoughts of my misfortune, which
now seemed to have reached its climax, so overcame me
that I fell down in a swoon, and lay as if dead. I have
been told that it was four hours before I came to myself,
during which time they had done everything in their power
to restore me to my senses, and what I should most have
felt, if I had been conscious, was, that they must have discovered
I was no man, but a woman. I recovered at last,
and the first thing I saw was the face of my brother and of
my husband, the latter held me in his arms. I do not know
how it was that I did not die that moment; I do not know
how it was that my tongue did not cleave to the roof of my
mouth; all I know is, that I knew not what they said to
me; but, I heard my brother say, 'What means this dress,
my sister?' and my husband said, 'What is this disguise,
my soul? If I did not know so well your virtue and honour,
my sweet wife, this dress should be exchanged only for a
shroud.' 'Your wife?' said my brother, 'this seems as
strange a story to me as it is to find her thus disguised;
but if it be true, it would be a sufficient recompense for the
trouble it causes me to see her thus.'
"At this instant I had begun to recover my scattered
senses, and I remember that I said, 'Dear brother, I am
Ambrosia Agustina, thy sister, I am also the wife of Señor
Contarino de Arbolanchez; Love, and thy absence, O my
brother, gave him to me as a husband; but, on the wedding
day he left me, and I, rash, desperate, and inconsiderate,
set off to seek him in this disguise.' Then I told them
all the story I have already narrated, and I had the good
fortune (for now my fortune was beginning to amend) to
find that they believed me, and pitied me. I then heard
that my husband had been taken prisoner with one of the
two vessels in which he had sailed for Genoa, and that it
was only two days ago that he had recovered his liberty,
and had had no time or opportunity to see my brother till
the moment of my fainting. Events so strange are hardly
credible, yet it is all as I have said. In these galleys the
lady whom you saw with me was going to Italy with her two
nieces; her son has the charge of the royal patrimony in
Sicily; they supplied me with the dress I now wear, and
my husband and brother sent us on shore to refresh and
amuse ourselves, and see the friends that they have in this
city. If you are going to Rome, I will make my brother
convey you to the nearest seaport. The case of cordials I
would fain repay with the best I possess; and if I should
not myself go to Italy, I would ask my brother to take my
debt upon him. This, my friends, is my history; if you
should find it hard to believe I cannot wonder; but there
is a common saying that it is courtesy to believe, and, in
yours, which must be great, I place my credit."
Thus the fair Ambrosia ended her story; and now her
hearers began to express their interest and admiration, and
to discuss the different circumstances of the case; and then
Constance and Auristella began embracing Ambrosia, who
was to return to her home by her husband's desire, because,
however charming and lovely she may be, the company of
a wife is embarrassing in times of war to a husband.
That night the sea ran very high, so much so that it was
necessary to loosen the galleys that were anchored in the
bay, which in this part was not safe for them. The courteous
Catalans, a people terrible when angry, and most supremely
courteous when at peace, to maintain both which
qualities they almost outdo themselves, which is therefore
outdoing all other nations, visited and feasted the Lady
Ambrosia as much as was possible.
Auristella, who had learned by experience what it was to
encounter a storm at sea, would not embark in the galleys,
but determined to go by way of France, which was then
quiet. Ambrosia returned to Aragón. The galleys continued
their voyage, and the pilgrims their journey, entering
France by way of Perpignan.
CHAPTER XIII.
Our party wished to take Perpignan as their
first entrance into France. The adventures
of Ambrosia furnished them with conversation
for some days, her great youth forming
some excuse for her many errors, and
they all were disposed to find pardon for her rashness in
the great love she bore her husband. She had, as I before
said, returned home to her own country; the galleys had
gone on their voyage, and our pilgrims on their journey.
They travelled through the land of France, and passing
through Languedoc, entered Provence, where, in an inn at
which they rested, they found three ladies of such extraordinary
beauty, that, had not Auristella been in the world,
they might have borne away the palm of beauty. They
seemed to be of high degree, judging by their retinue and
attendants. They, on seeing the pilgrims, were struck by
the grace of Periander and the peerless beauty of Auristella
and Constance; they went up to them, and, with smiling
countenances and courteous demeanour, asked who they
were in the Castilian tongue, for they perceived that they
were Spanish pilgrims; and in France there is neither man
nor woman but learns the Spanish language. Whilst the
ladies were waiting for Auristella's reply, to whom they had
addressed themselves, Periander had stepped aside to converse
with a servant, who appeared to belong to the illustrious
Frenchwomen, asking him who they were, and whither
going; and he answered, "The Duke de Nemours,
who is of the blood-royal in this country, is a gallant and
very prudent gentleman, but withal he loves his pleasures;
he has lately come into possession of his inheritance, and is
resolved to marry, not to please others, but to choose for
himself, even though he is offered great increase of wealth
and property, and although he is acting contrary to the
king's commands; but, he says, that kings may give what
wives they choose to their vassals, but he does not choose
that they should give one to him. With this fantasy, or
folly, or wisdom, or whatever you please to call it, he has
despatched some of his servants to different parts of France
in search of women, who must, besides being of high birth,
be beautiful, for him to select a wife from among them.
He does not care for wealth, but is satisfied to let her portion
be her qualities and her beauty. He had heard of these
three ladies, and sent me, who am in his service, to see them,
and have their portraits taken by a famous painter, who
travels with me; all three are free from any engagement;
all are young, as you perceive; the eldest, who is called
Delicia, is very sensible, but poor; the middle one, whose
name is Bellarmina, is high-minded and witty, and moderately
rich; the least of the three is called Felicia Flora, she
is much the richest of all. They are all acquainted with
the duke's desire, and I have a conjecture that each lady
would gladly be the chosen one. Having an opportunity
to go to Rome for the jubilee of this year, which is the
Centenary, so kept according to custom, they have left their
homes, and mean to go to Paris and see the duke, hoping,
perhaps, that this may be of some avail. But, Sir Pilgrim,
since you have come here I have determined to carry my
master a present, which will entirely put an end to any
hopes these ladies may have conceived, for I intend to take
him the portrait of this fair pilgrim who is with you, for
she is the sole queen of all earthly beauty; and if she was
but as highly born as she is beautiful, my master's servants
would have no further to go, nor he anything more to desire.
Tell me, sir, on your life, if this pilgrim is married,
what is her name, and what her parentage?" To which
Periander tremblingly replied, "Her name is Auristella;
she is on her way to Rome, and who her parents are, she
has never told anybody; that she is free and unmarried I
can assure you, for that I know without a doubt; but there
is another thing to be said, which is, that she is so independent
and mistress of her own will, that she will never submit
it to any earthly prince, because, she says, that she will
submit it only to a heavenly one; and to convince you that
this is the truth, learn that I am her brother, and acquainted
with her most secret thoughts; so it will be of no use at all
to have her picture taken, but would serve only to disturb
the mind of your master, if by chance he should feel disposed
to overlook the humble birth of our parents."
"Notwithstanding this," said the other, "I must have
the picture if only for curiosity, and that France may be
made acquainted with this new miracle of beauty."
So saying, they took leave of each other, and Periander
wished to quit the place directly, that the painter might not
have time to take Auristella's portrait. Bartholomew had
to get the mule ready afresh, and again began to be out of
sorts with Periander for being in such a hurry to move.
The duke's servant, seeing that Periander meant to depart
immediately, came to him and said, "I would fain,
sir, have entreated you to stay a short time in this place,
if but until night, that my painter might have time and space
to take the likeness of your sister; but you may go in peace,
for the painter assures me that though he has only seen her
once, her image is so fixed in his imagination that he can
paint her by himself quite as well as if he was looking at
her."
Periander cursed the rare skill of the artist in his heart,
but not the less for this did he wish to be gone; taking leave
directly of the three charming Frenchwomen, who embraced
Auristella and Constance warmly, and offered to take them
to Rome along with their party, if they pleased. Auristella
thanked them in the most polite manner she knew, telling
them that she obeyed her brother Periander in all things,
and that neither she nor Constance could stay behind, since
her brother Antonio and Periander were going. So they
departed, and in about a week they arrived at a place in
Provence; what happened there will be told in the next
chapter.
CHAPTER XIV.
History, poetry, and painting resemble one
another, and so it appears that in writing
history, one paints a picture; in painting, one
composes a story; history does not always
treat of weighty matters, neither does the
painter always choose great or magnificent subjects for his
pencil; poetry is not always in the clouds; history must
treat of base deeds; painting has grass and furze in her pictures,
and poetry exalts humble things. These truths are
shown in our history.
It was noon, the sun's rays shot down vertically upon
the ground, and the heat was very great; many pleasant
looking houses were scattered over the peaceful plains
through which they were now travelling, where the gentry
of this country passed the greater part of the year, seldom
quitting them for a town life. Our travellers had arrived
near one of these, which was a little distant from the high
road; the shadow cast by a tall tower of the dwelling, invited
them to take their siesta there, as the heat threatened
to be great. The careful Bartholomew unloaded his mule,
and spread a carpet on the ground; they seated themselves
in a circle, and prepared to make their repast upon the provisions
that Bartholomew had taken care to provide, which
were welcome, for they were beginning to feel hungry; but,
hardly had they raised their hands to their mouths, when
Bartholomew, looking up, cried out, "Get away, gentlemen!
ladies, get away quickly! here is something tumbling
down from the skies, I know not what, but it will not be
well to have it fall on us." They looked up, and saw a
figure coming down from above, which, before they could
tell what it was, fell almost at Periander's feet. The figure
proved to be a very pretty woman who had been thrown
from the top of the tower; but, her clothes serving as a bell,
supported her like wings, and she got up unhurt, a thing
quite possible without any miracle. However, the event
left her in a state of great agitation and fright, as also was
the state of those who had seen her fall. In the tower, loud
shrieks and screams were heard from a woman whom they
saw struggling with a man, and it seemed as if each was
endeavouring to throw the other over.
"Help, help!" cried the woman, "Help me, gentlemen,
for this madman wants to throw me down from the
tower!"
The flying woman, now somewhat recovered, said, "If
any of you are bold enough to go up through that door,
(pointing to one at the foot of the tower,) you might save
my children and other helpless creatures from the mortal
danger they are in."
Periander, impelled by his generous feelings, instantly
went in, and, in a few minutes they saw him on the top of
the tower engaged with the seeming madman, from whom
he had taken a knife, and was trying to defend himself;
but fate had determined that the tragedy of the man's life
should end here, and both fell together from the height on
the ground below. The madman had stabbed himself with
the knife that Periander held, and Periander's eyes, nose
and mouth were streaming with blood; for as he had no
petticoats to sustain him, the fall took its effect, and he lay
lifeless upon the earth.
Auristella, seeing him thus, immediately supposed him
dead; she threw herself upon his body, and, without caring
who saw her, she pressed her mouth to his, as if she expected
to receive some last breath or last token; but although
there had been any such, she would not have received
it, because the firmly-closed teeth would have denied its
exit. Constance was in no condition to lend her aid, for
she stood as if transfixed on the spot, her feet glued to the
ground, as though she was taking root there, or as if she
had been a marble statue. Antonio flew to assist the sufferers,
and to separate the living from those he believed were
dead corpses. Bartholomew was the only one of the party
whose eyes expressed the grief that he felt in his heart, and
he was weeping loudly.
All being in this deep affliction, whilst as yet no one had
uttered a word of speech, it was seen that a troop of people
was approaching, who had probably from the high road
perceived the persons falling from the tower, and came to
ask what had happened. It was the travelling party of the
three beautiful French ladies, Delicia, Bellarmina, and Felicia
Flora. As soon as they came up, they recognized in Auristella
and Periander the two pilgrims, whose marvellous
beauty left an impression never to be forgotten by any one
who had ever seen them. Scarcely had their compassion
caused them to alight, in order to give some assistance if
possible to the distress they saw before them, when they
were assailed from behind by seven or eight armed men,
who fell suddenly upon them; at sight of this, Antonio
seized his bow and arrows, which were never far off, and
which he always kept ready for defence or offence. One
of the ruffians had seized upon Felicia Flora, and placed her
on his saddle before him; then, turning to his companions,
he said, "It is done, this one will do; let us be off." Antonio,
who saw this discourteous act, fitted an arrow to
his bow, extended to the utmost his left arm, and drew the
string with his right till it touched his right ear, so that the
two extreme points of the bow almost met, then, taking the
robber who held Felicia Flora as his mark, let fly his arrow;
without touching Felicia Flora, except a portion of the veil
which covered her head, it pierced the ruffian through the
body: one of his companions hastened to avenge him, and,
without giving Antonio time to fit a second arrow to his
bow, he dealt him so violent a blow on the head, that he
fell to the ground senseless. At this sight, Constance left
off being a statue, and flew to her brother's assistance. The
force of kindred blood was such that it warmed hers, which
had frozen at the sight of a friend's sorrow; both, signs of
strong affection.
By this time people had come out of the house armed,
and the servants in the suite of the three ladies, who were
unarmed, had collected stones, and came to the defence of
their mistresses. The robbers, who saw their leader dead,
and that so many persons were collected, began to think
they should gain nothing by the enterprise, and that it
would be madness to risk their lives for one who could no
longer reward them; they therefore turned their backs and
fled, leaving the field free. Hitherto, in this affray, few
sword strokes had been heard; no warlike instruments of
music had sounded, the wail of the living over the dead had
not yet been heard, but in bitter silence the sorrowing ones
kept their grief within their lips, only some sad moans and
sobs had issued from the breasts of the miserable Auristella
and Constance, each one closely embracing her brother,
without being able to utter those complaints which relieve
the breaking heart. But, at length, heaven not having ordained
that they should die thus suddenly, and without
complaint or lamentation, untied their tongues, which had
been cleaving to the roof of their mouths, and Auristella
burst forth in these words:—
"Unhappy that I am, how am I to seek for any breath
in a dead body, or how should I be able to feel it, if I am
so deprived of it myself that I know not whether I can
speak or breathe. Alas, my brother! and what a fall was
this, that has so destroyed all my hopes; alas! and could
not your high lineage save you from this misfortune? But
would it have been so great if you were not so high? The
highest mountains attract the lightning, and where it meets
with most resistance it does the greatest harm; you were
a mountain, but a humble mountain, for you concealed
yourself from the eyes of men in the shade of your wisdom
and your ability; you were going to seek your fortune in
mine, but death has cut short the intention, and mine is
going with it to the tomb. What will the queen, your mother,
do, when the news of your unexpected death reaches
her ears? Alas! woe is me, once more alone in a foreign
land, like the poor ivy torn from her natural support."
These words about queens, and mountains, and greatness,
caught the attention of the listening bystanders, and
increased their wonder; Constance, who held her wounded
brother in her lap whilst the compassionate Felicia Flora
tried to staunch the blood with her own handkerchief,
spoke thus:—
"Alas!" she said, "my protector, what avails it that
fortune has raised me if misfortune is to destroy me. Return
to me, O my brother! if you wish that I should return
to my senses; or, if not, ye pitying heavens, let our
eyes be closed in death together, and one grave receive our
bodies, for the good fortune I met with so unexpectedly
can bring no better boon than a speedy end." So saying,
she fell fainting on the ground; and Auristella was no better
off, so that they seemed more dead than the wounded ones.
The lady who fell from the tower, the chief cause of
Periander's fall, ordered her servants, several of whom had
come out of the house, to carry him to the bed of Count
Domicio, her lord and husband; she likewise commanded
them to take his body up that it might receive burial; Bartholomew
took the young Antonio in his arms; the ladies
had charge of Auristella and Constance, and, in mournful
procession and with slow steps, they moved along to the
almost regal looking mansion.
CHAPTER XV.
The sage advice that the three French ladies
gave to the two mourners, Constance and
Auristella, was of small avail, for in a recent
grief there is no room for consolation. In
the agony of a sudden disaster we cannot
accept at once of any comfort, however wisely it may be
administered; a fresh wound is painful till it is closed, and
it takes time to heal before it is again opened; therefore,
whilst one weeps, whilst one groans, whilst one is under
the influence of the grief that causes one's lamentations and
sighs, it is not discreet at all to offer remedies. Let us then
leave Auristella still to weep, and Constance to lament, and
both to shut their ears to all consolation, whilst the fair
Clarice relates the cause of her husband's madness.
She told the French ladies, that, before he married her,
he was in love with a relation of his own, who had every
expectation of marrying him. "My lot seemed to promise
fair, only to become the darker in the end," said Clarice;
"for Lorena, (so this relation was called,) concealing the
anger she felt at our marriage, used to load him with a variety
of presents, the most agreeable and pleasing, rather
than costly; among which, she sent him once, much as the
false Dejanira sent the shirt to Hercules, I say she sent him
some shirts of the finest linen and of beautiful workmanship.
Scarcely had he put one on, when he became senseless, and
for two days lay like a corpse, although we directly took it
off, fancying that it had been bewitched by a slave of Lorena's,
who was supposed to be a dealer in magic arts. My
husband was restored to life, but his mind was so disturbed
and upset, that everything he did was like the act of a madman,
and not a quiet madman, but so cruel, furious and
wild, that it became necessary to chain him; and, to-day,
I being in the tower, he contrived to escape from his place
of confinement, and flung me through the upper windows,
but I was preserved by my wide garments, which bore me
up, or rather, I ought to say, by the mercy of God, who
protects the innocent." Then she told how the pilgrim
had gone up into the tower to the assistance of another
woman, one of her attendants, whom he was also trying to
throw over, and with her were two little children whom he
wished to strangle, but that the event was that the count
and the pilgrim had been dashed down from the tower to
the ground below, the count, wounded mortally, and the
pilgrim having a knife in his hand, which it appeared he
had wrested from the madman, his wound was such that
it needed not the fall to kill him, the wound was enough
in itself.
Meantime, Periander still lay senseless on the bed where
they had placed him, and where the surgeons came to see
him and set the dislocated bones. They gave him medicines
proper for his case, felt his pulse, and, by degrees, he
came a little to himself, and knew some of the persons who
stood round him, especially Auristella, to whom, in a
scarcely audible voice, he said, "Sister, I die in the holy
Catholic faith, and I die loving you." He could say no
more, and did not speak again at that time. They bled
Antonio, and the surgeons having examined his wound, demanded
a reward for the good news they were able to give
his sister, that it was deep, but not mortal, and that they
would promise to cure him by the help of heaven. Felicia
Flora rewarded them handsomely first, and Constance afterwards;
and the surgeons, not to be over scrupulous, took
it from both.
It took a month and rather more for the invalids to be
cured: the French ladies would not hear of leaving them,
so great a friendship had sprung up between them and Auristella,
and Constance and their two brothers; Felicia Flora,
especially, could not quit Antonio's bedside, loving him
with a gentle affection, so delicate, that it only seemed kind
feeling and gratitude for the deed he had done in saving her
when his arrow freed her from the grasp of Rupertino,
who was, she told them, a gentleman, lord of a castle not
far from her own, and that he, impelled by a desperate passion,
not by real love, had long followed and persecuted her
to marry him; but that she knew well both by experience
and by the voice of common fame, which seldom lies, that
the character of Rupertino was harsh and cruel, and that
his disposition was changeable and capricious, for which
reason she had refused his suit. She guessed, therefore, that
furious at her disdain, he had made this attempt to seize
her person by force, since she would not give herself to him
willingly; but the arrow of Antonio had cut short his wicked
designs, and that for this she felt most grateful.
When at length the moment came that the invalids felt
health returning, and by their reviving strength showing
signs of this; also, with health, revived their wish to pursue
their journey: they therefore set to work to provide all
things necessary for this. As I before said, the French
ladies would not separate from the pilgrims, and already
began to treat them with more respect and admiration, since,
from the words that were uttered by Auristella in her wild
grief, they had an idea of their being persons of very high
quality, for sometimes majesty clothes itself in sackcloth and
grandeur conceals itself in humility. In fact, they regarded
them with perplexity; the poor retinue they had, looked
as if they were persons of middling condition, but the grace
and elegance of their manners, and their extreme beauty,
made them seem of almost heavenly birth. Thus they
continued to be in doubt with respect to their real rank and
quality. It was decided by the French ladies that they
should travel on horseback, because Periander's fall had made
it impossible for him to go on foot. The grateful Felicia
Flora would not quit the side of Antonio, and discoursing
upon the daring act of Rupertino, whom they left dead and
buried, and of the strange history of the Count Domicio,
whom his cousin's fatal gifts had first deprived of reason,
then of life, and also of the miraculous flight of his wife,
more wonderful than credible; they arrived upon the banks
of a river which was fordable with some trouble. Periander
was of opinion that they should seek a bridge, but all
the rest objected to this, and, just as a flock of sheep when
all crowded in a narrow space, one makes itself a way out
and all the rest directly follow, so Bellarmina dashed into
the stream, and all followed her example; Periander, however,
never quitting Auristella's side, nor Antonio that of
Felicia Flora, his sister, Constance, being also close by him.
Now fate so willed it that the rapid motion of the water
affected Felicia Flora's head, so that she fell off her horse
into the middle of the river; but, quick as thought, the
gallant Antonio darted after her, and upon his shoulders
bore her, like a second Europa, safe to the opposite shore.
She, seeing his quick action, said, "Thou art very courteous,
Spaniard." To which Antonio replied, "If my
courteous deeds did not spring from your dangers, they might
be estimable; but, born as they are of them, they rather
grieve than gladden me."
The party at last all passed over, and reached at nightfall
a farmhouse, which was also an inn, in which they
found lodging to their liking; and what happened to them
here demands a new style and a new chapter.
CHAPTER XVI.
Things sometimes happen in this world, that
if people were beforehand to devise or project
them, they never could succeed in so doing,
and so from that and their rarity they
pass as apocryphal, and are not believed to be
as true as they are, and it is necessary to help people's belief
by swearing to the truth, or, at least, it requires that the
relator should be a person of good credit, although, for my
part, I am of opinion that it is best not to tell them at all,
according to the advice in the old Castilian adage,—
"Very wonderful things
Should never be told,
For it is not every one
That can enter into them."
Our pilgrims had not been long in the inn when Bartholomew
came and said, "Make haste, sir, and come and
see the most extraordinary sight you ever saw in your life!"
He said this in such a scared and frightened manner, that,
thinking they were going to see some very strange thing,
they followed him, and in a part of the house at some distance
from that in which the pilgrims and the ladies were
lodged, they saw through some matting an apartment entirely
hung with black, the murky darkness of which prevented
them from seeing distinctly what was in it. Whilst
they were looking at it, an old man, also dressed in black,
came up to them, and said, "Gentlemen, if you wish to
see the Lady Ruperta without her seeing you, I will contrive
it so that you shall be gratified; in about two hours
after midnight you will have an opportunity of seeing what
will surprise you, both as to her beauty and behaviour."
"Sir," said Periander, "our servant, that you see here,
brought us to see a wonder, but we have seen nothing yet,
except a room hung with black, which is not wonderful
at all."
"If you will return hither at the hour I have named,"
replied the man in black, "you shall see what will surprise
you; for you must know that in this apartment lodges the
Lady Ruperta, who was, not quite a year ago, the wife of
Earl Lambert, of Scotland, which marriage cost him his
life, and has placed her in danger of losing it every hour;
for Claudio Rubicon, a gentleman of very good family in
Scotland, whose great wealth and ancient lineage rendered
him proud and overbearing, and he being also of a warm
temperament, loved my mistress when she was a maiden;
but she, whether she disliked him or not, at any rate, rejected
him, and showed her disdain of his addresses by
marrying the earl my master. This hasty act of hers seemed
as if it was a proof of contempt and aversion to Rubicon,
as if the fair Ruperta had not parents who fixed and directed
her choice, and, added to which, the years of the husband
chosen for her, were far better suited to her own; and it
is no doubt desirable that this should be considered in a
marriage, although it is good for the husband to have the
advantage in point of age. Now Rubicon was a widower,
and far from young, and he had a son of about twenty or
one-and-twenty years old, a young man extremely amiable,
and of a much better disposition than his father, indeed, had
it been he who had offered himself, my master might be
still alive, and my mistress happier.
"It chanced then that my lady and her husband being
at a country seat of his where they had gone to enjoy themselves
together, one day, in a lonely spot, they suddenly
met Rubicon, attended by a strong party of his servants.
At the sight of my lady all the fury he had felt at the injury
he conceived she had done him, was aroused, and, instead
of love, hate and rage sprang up in his soul, and a
desire to revenge himself on her; and as the revenge of a
despised lover far surpasses the offence given, so Rubicon,
enraged and desperate with jealousy and hate, drew his
sword, and ran the earl my master through the body, crying,
'If this be cruelty, far greater has been that of thy wife
to me, for her disdain has tortured me a hundred thousand
times!'
"I was present during this scene, these ears heard his
words, and these eyes saw the blow given, and with these
hands did I endeavour to close the wound. I heard the
lamentations of my mistress which pierced the air. We
returned to the spot afterwards to remove the body for burial,
and by her command the head was cut off, and, in a few
days, by dint of certain applications used, all the flesh was
removed from the skull. She had a silver case made to hold
it, and, placing her hand thereon, she made the following
vow: but I forgot to mention that the cruel murderer,
either from forgetfulness, or in his fury, or possibly from
the hurry of mind he must have been in, left his sword
sticking in my lord's body; and his blood even now looks
fresh upon the blade. I was going to tell you that she pronounced
these words:—
"'I, the hapless Ruperta, to whom God gave the fatal
gift of beauty, make this vow before high Heaven: with my
hand placed on these sad relics, I swear to revenge my
husband's death by all the means in my power, and with
all diligence, though I were to risk therein my miserable
life a thousand times. No dangers shall scare me, no entreaties
shall avail to soften me, and until I have succeeded
in effecting this my just, if not Christian resolve, I swear
that my apparel shall be black, my apartments hung with
the same gloomy hue, my attendants shall wear mourning,
and I will have no company, but live in solitude; at every
meal I will have these relics present, which keep up the
torment of my soul; this head, which shall, without a voice,
command me to revenge its injury; this sword, on which
I seem to see the yet streaming blood, shall, by kindling
mine, leave me no rest until I am avenged!'
"After speaking thus, her tears seemed to flow less incessantly,
and her sighs and complaints became more moderate.
She then began to arrange a journey to Rome, to
obtain there from some powerful personages, aid and protection
against the murderer of her husband, who still
threatens her.
"Now, sirs, you will see what I have told you if you
come in about two hours from this time; if you are not
moved and astonished by it, either I have told my story ill,
or your hearts must be of marble."
Here the mourning squire ceased speaking, and the pilgrims,
even without having seen Ruperta, were filled with
wonder and compassion for her case.
CHAPTER XVII. — CHAPTER XVIII.
Anger is said to be a revolution of the blood
about the heart, which warms up at sight
of the object which inflamed it, and sometimes
with the bare recollection of the offence.
It hath for its final goal and resting
place, vengeance, which, when it is taken upon the offender
with or without reason, calms the ire. This would lead us to
suppose the beautiful Ruperta passionate and vindictive, and
with so strong a desire to be revenged upon her enemy, that
even if she knew that he was dead, her hatred would extend
to his descendants, of whom she would not wish to leave
one alive, for the wrath of a woman is boundless.
The hour came when the pilgrims were to see her, themselves
unseen. They saw her extremely lovely, with a long
and flowing white veil, which reached from her head to
her feet, as she was seated before a table, on which was
placed the head of her murdered lord in its silver case, the
sword that had deprived him of life, and a shirt, which was
all stained with his blood.
All these melancholy memorials reawakened her anger,
which needed no arousing, for it never slept; she arose from
her seat, and putting her right hand upon the head, she began
to renew the vow of which the mourning squire had
told them; showers of tears rained from her eyes, enough
to have bathed the sad relics in, sighs burst from her heart,
which filled the air far and near; to the usual form of her
vow she added words of more intense hatred, so that at
times it almost seemed as if fire instead of tears sparkled in
her eyes, and from her mouth proceeded smoke instead of
sighs, such a slave was she to her passionate desire for revenge—see
her weep, see her sigh, see her beside herself, see
her brandish the murderous steel, see her kiss the bloodstained
shirt, and hear the sobs that impede her words;
but, wait only till the morrow, and you will see things that
would give you something to talk of for a thousand years,
if you were to live so long.
Ruperta was still in the midst of her passionate grief,
when one of her attendants entered like a dark phantom,
for he was clad in deep mourning vestments, and, in trembling
accents, he said,
"Lady, the son of your enemy has just alighted with
several servants at the door of this inn, Croriano, the gallant,
as he is called. Think whether it is your pleasure to
discover your being here to him, and if you wish he should
know it, or what you like to do, whilst you have time to
consider it."
"Let him know nothing about my being here," answered
Ruperta; "and warn all my servants that they take
care not to mention my name, nor discover me to him."
So saying, she gathered up her tokens, and commanded
the room to be closed, and that no one should enter it.
The pilgrims returned to theirs; she remained alone and
very thoughtful. I cannot tell how it came to be known
that she spoke aloud to the following effect, but so it was,
in these, or very nearly these, words:—
"Behold now, O Ruperta, how Heaven in its justice
has brought hither, like a victim to the sacrifice, the very
soul of thine enemy; for sons, and most of all, an only
son, are like a part of their father's self. Forget, O Ruperta,
that thou art a woman, and if thou canst not forget that,
then think that thou art a justly incensed one, and that thy
husband's blood cries to thee for vengeance; and this poor
speechless head is saying, 'Revenge me, sweet wife, on him
who murdered me, guiltless as I was of all offence! Remember
Judith who was not afraid of the brave Holofernes.'
It is true that my case is different from hers; she
chastised an enemy of her God, and I would punish one
who is not even mine own enemy; love of her country
placed in her hands the steel, and love of a dead husband
places it in mine; but why do I delay, making these senseless
comparisons? What have I to do but to shut my eyes
and bury the steel deep in this boy's heart; the more innocent
he, the greater will my vengeance be. Let me then
exalt the avenger's name, and let come what may, I must
accomplish my task, and do the deed, even though it should
be my own death."
Having thus resolved, she took measures to get admittance
into the chamber where Croriano slept. She easily
gained this by means of one of his servants, who was won
over by her gold, thinking also that he was not doing any
very ill office to his master in bringing so beautiful a lady
into his apartment. She concealed herself in a part where
she could not be seen, and committing her fate to Heaven,
buried in the profoundest silence, she awaited the moment
of her long desired revenge.
She had taken, as the instrument whereby to effect this,
a sharp knife, which she thought would be the least embarrassing
and most handy weapon she could choose: she
also had with her a small lamp, in which burned a wax
light. She hardly dared to breathe. What will not a furious
woman dare to do? what heaps of difficulties will she
not trample under foot? what enormous cruelties will not
seem to her like the gentlest deeds?
At length the hour arrived;—Croriano entered his room,
and fatigued with his journey, went immediately to bed,
giving himself up (little dreaming of death so near) to
repose.
Ruperta listened attentively to ascertain whether Croriano
slept or no, and having satisfied herself that he slept,
both from the length of time that he had been in bed, and
from certain long-drawn breaths, which none but sleepers
give, she opened her lamp to find her way across the room,
and without either crossing herself, or invoking any Saint
to assist her, she made her way to the bedside. Ah, beauteous
murderess, lovely fury, charming executioner, now
satisfy thy fierce wrath: strike the blow and blot out thy
injury for ever; for there he lies before thee, on whom
thou mayest wreak thy long desired revenge. But pause an
instant, O beautiful Ruperta, and take one look before thou
strikest, or rather do not look upon that most lovely Cupid
who lies sleeping there, for in a moment that sight will effect
a change in the whole tenour of thy thoughts.
She reached the bed, and with a trembling hand removed
the coverlet from the face of Croriano, who was buried in
a profound sleep:—Medusa's head which changed the gazer
into marble, never produced a more sudden effect. Struck
by the sight of so much beauty, she let fall the murderous
knife, and this afforded her time to reflect for a moment
upon the deed she was about to commit. The exceeding
beauty of the youth dispersed the shades of death that hung
over him, as the sun's rays melt the snow, and he no longer
appeared to her in the light of a victim to a cruel sacrifice,
but rather as a holy peace offering.
"Ah!" said she to herself, "noble youth, thou art fitter
far to be my husband than the object of my vengeance;
what part hast thou in thy father's crime? why shouldst
thou be punished who hast done no fault? Live and be
happy, thou lovely youth, and my revenge and cruelty
shall sleep within my own breast: a better name it will
make for me to be called the forgiving instead of the revengeful."
As these thoughts passed through her mind,
troubled and repentant, she let her lamp fall from her hand
upon the sleeper, who awoke. The light was extinguished,
and Ruperta hoped to escape in the darkness, but could not
find her way out. Meantime Croriano called aloud for his
attendants, and snatching up his sword, leaped out of bed.
He soon found and seized Ruperta, who trembling, said,
"Do not kill me, Croriano, though I am a woman who not
an hour ago could have killed thee, and now I am reduced
to beg my life at thy hands."
At this crisis the servants rushed in with lights, and saw
Croriano, and recognized the beautiful widow, who looked
like the resplendent moon enveloped in white clouds.
"What can this mean, lady Ruperta?" he asked; "is
this the vengeance you have sworn to execute; and do you
desire that I should pay for my father's injustice? What
means this knife I see? what can it mean but that you came
to be my executioner? My father is already dead, and the
dead can no longer afford satisfaction for the offences they
have committed; the living can, and I, who now represent
my father, will gladly make any amends in my power for the
injury he did to you; but first let me touch you, and see
whether you are indeed flesh and blood, or a phantom sent
to kill or to delude me, or it may be, sent for my good."
"And for my hurt," said Ruperta, "if indeed Heaven can
find a sadder fate for me than I have hitherto experienced.
You came to this house; I did not see you, but I heard
your name, which aroused my angry feelings, and incited
me to vengeance. I bribed one of your servants to admit
me into your sleeping apartment. I came here, prepared
as you may see, and in the full intention of taking your life.
When I found that you were asleep, I left my hiding-place,
and by the light of the lamp which I had brought with
me, I uncovered and saw your face, which filled me with
feelings of respect and reverence, so that it blunted the steel
which I held, and my desire for vengeance died away. I
let the lamp fall—it awoke you—you cried out. I remained
in great perplexity; hence all that you have seen. I no
longer feel the desire for revenge, nor to remember my injury.
Live in peace; I wish to be the first to ask forgiveness
myself, if I have not already pardoned you for the fault
you never committed."
"Lady," answered Croriano, "my father wished to marry
you, but you rejected him. In his anger he slew your husband:—he
is dead, and his crime has gone with him to
another world. I am left as a part of him to do what I
can for the good of his soul. Mine is yours if you will have
it. Take me as your husband, if you are not, as I said before,
a delusive phantom; so great a piece of good fortune
coming thus suddenly must bring suspicion along with it."
"Give me your hand, my lord," answered she, "and
you will find that I am no phantom, and that the heart I
shall bestow on you is simple, pure, and true." The servants
were made to witness their betrothal. That night
sweet peace triumphed over grim war. The field of battle
was changed for the bridal bed: love sprang out of hatred,
life from death, and happiness from discontent.
When the pilgrims came on the following morning to
know what the mourning Ruperta had done about the arrival
of her enemy's son, of which they had been told, they
learned the story of the new betrothal; and as they went to
offer their congratulations to the young pair, at the entrance of
Ruperta's apartment they met the ancient squire, who had
related to them her story, laden with the silver case, wherein
the skull of her deceased husband was enshrined, and with
the blood stained shirt and sword that had so often renewed
the grief of Ruperta, and he said he was to remove them to
where the sight should never again disturb the glorious
present with the mournful memory of the past. He murmured
at Ruperta's inconstancy, and at that of women in
general; the smallest of the faults he charged them with was
caprice.
Nevertheless, both Ruperta's and Croriano's attendants
rejoiced, and the little inn seemed changed into a royal
palace fit for such great espousals.
Periander, Auristella, Constance, and Antonio had much
discourse with the betrothed pair, and made them acquainted
with as much of their own history as was necessary.
A Fire breaks out in the Inn; all the
party are removed from it by an Astrologer, and carried
to his cave, where he foretells happy events.
CHAPTER XIX.
Our pilgrims again are on their way. They
were passed on the road by about seven or
eight persons on horseback; among them
was a woman seated upon a rich side saddle,
on a mule, and dressed in a travelling habit, all
green, except her hat, the rich plumes of which floated on
the breeze, and her face was covered with a green veil.
They went by, and passed on before them without turning
their heads, or speaking a word, but silently saluted them,
and went forwards. The others did the same, they also
bowed and said nothing.
One of the party remained behind the rest, and coming
up to the pilgrims and their friends, asked if they could afford
them a little water. They gave it, and inquired who
the persons were that had gone on, and who was the lady
in green; to which the traveller answered, "He who rides
yonder, is Signor Alexander Castrucho, a gentleman of
Capua, and one of the richest men, not only in Capua, but
of the whole kingdom of Naples. The lady is his niece,
the lady Isabella Castrucho, who was born in Spain, where
she has left her father buried, and in consequence of his
death her uncle is bringing her to Capua to be married,
and I believe she is not very well pleased with this."
"That may be very likely," said the aged squire of the
lady Ruperta, (for she and Croriano were now added to
the party,) "not because she is going to be married, but
because the journey is long. I hold it that no woman alive
but is longing for the other half she wants,—a husband."
"I cannot tell about these philosophies," replied the
traveller, "all I know is, that she looks very melancholy,
and she probably knows why; and now I must say adieu,
for my masters are much in advance," and so spurring on,
he was shortly out of sight.
The French ladies had determined to give up going to
Paris, and to travel straight to Rome with the pilgrims, who
had decided to leave France by Dauphiny, and crossing Piedmont
and the States of Milan, visit Florence, and proceed
on to Rome.
For many days they travelled without meeting any adventure
worth relating. They entered Milan, admired the
grandeur of the town, its wealth, its gilding, its warlike
forges, as if Vulcan himself had set up there. The infinite
abundance of its fruits, the size of its churches, and lastly,
the sharp wits of its inhabitants. They had heard from their
host that the thing best worth seeing was the Academy of
the Entronados,[S] which boasted of some of the most eminent
academicians, whose subtle reasonings and arguments
had gained renown for them throughout the whole world.
They heard that this was a day when an argument would be
held, and that it was to be, Whether love could exist without
jealousy?
"It can," said Periander. "To decide this it is not necessary
to lose much time."
"I," said Auristella, "do not know what is meant by
love, although I know what it is to love well."
To which Bellarmina answered, "I cannot understand
this mode of talking, nor the difference between love and
loving well."
"It is," said Auristella, "that loving well may be without
any very great or violent emotion, as one can love a
faithful servant, or a statue, or a picture, which pleases one
very much, and this does not cause jealousy, nor can give
it; but the passion which is generally called love, and which
is a violent emotion of the soul, even when it does not produce
jealousy can cause such fears as go nigh to destroy
life itself, and from this it seems to me that love cannot be
free."
"You say well, lady," observed Periander, "for when
did there ever exist a lover, who, possessing the beloved
one, does not tremble lest he should lose it? There is no
happiness so secure that it may not be overturned;—no
nail so strong as to stop the wheel of fortune;—and if it
were not that we are anxious not to delay our journey,
perhaps I might prove to-day in the academy, that love can
exist without jealousy, but not without fear."
Thus ended the conversation. They stayed in Milan four
days, during which they saw a great part of its grandeur,
but not all, as that would have taken them four years.
From thence they went to Lucca, a small town, but beautiful
and free, which, under the wings of the empire and of
Spain, looks loftily down upon the cities of the surrounding
princes, who long to possess her. Here Spaniards are better
received and regarded than in any other place; and here
our travellers met with one of the strangest adventures that
had yet befallen them.
The inns at Lucca are large enough to lodge
a whole regiment of soldiers; in one of these
our pilgrims took up their abode, being directed
thither by some of the guardians of
the city gates, who delivered them to the
host, so that on the morrow, or when they departed, he
would have to give up an account of them. As they entered,
the lady Ruperta saw a person coming out who looked
like a doctor, and saying so to the hostess, she replied,
that he was one. "I do not know, lady," said she, "whether
the young lady is mad, or possessed by the evil one, or rather
whether she is not both mad and possessed; and yet I have
hopes of her recovery, if her uncle is not in too great a hurry
to take her away."
"Ah! good Heavens!" cried Ruperta, "and have we
then got into a house of mad and possessed people; if it be
so, we had much better not enter here."
"Your ladyship may alight without fear," said the hostess;
"and I can assure you anybody might come a hundred
miles to see the sight we have in this inn." They all
alighted, and Auristella and Constance, who had heard what
the hostess said, asked her what she had so very well worth
seeing in her house.
"Come with me," said the hostess, "and you shall see
what you shall see, and you will say what I say."
She led the way, and they followed her into a room,
where, on a gilded bed, was lying a very beautiful girl,
seemingly not above sixteen or seventeen years of age; her
arms were extended on either side, and tied with fillets to
the balustrade of the bedstead, to prevent her moving them.
Two women, who appeared to be nurses, were going to
fasten her legs in a similar way, but she cried out, "It is
enough to tie my arms: my own modesty will be sufficient
restraint for the rest;" and then turning to the pilgrims,
she said in a loud voice, "ye heavenly creatures, ye angels
in human form, I doubt not but that you come to restore
me to health, for what else can I expect from your beauteous
presence and Christian-like visitation. If ye be what
I take ye for, command them to untie these bands, for if I
do give myself four or five blows it will be all I shall do,
and will not hurt me much, for I am not so mad as I seem,
nor he who torments me, so cruel as to torment me to death."
"Poor thing! poor niece!" said an old man, who now
entered the apartment; "and what is he whom thou sayest
will not let thee die? Commend thyself to God, Isabella,
and try to eat,—not thine own fair flesh, but what thy
uncle, who loves thee dearly, brings to thee:—that which
flies in the air, that which lives in the water, that which
feeds upon the earth, all this I would offer to thee."
To which the girl answered, "Let me be left alone with
these angels; perhaps my enemy, the devil, will fly from
me, rather than stay in their presence;" and she made
signs with her head that Auristella, Constance, Ruperta,
and Felicia Flora should remain with her. "The rest,"
she said, "might go." This was accordingly done with
willingness, and even with entreaty, by the unhappy old
man, her uncle, from whom they learned that this was the
lady in green who had passed them on the road, and whose
name they had heard from the servant who remained behind,
was Isabella Castrucho, who was going to be married
at Naples.
Hardly did the sick person find herself alone with the
four ladies we have mentioned, than she looked all round
the room to see if there were no others remaining. Ruperta
looked and scrutinized the apartment well, and assured
her that there was not a creature left but themselves; thus
assured, Isabella sat up as well as she could on the bed, and
seemed about to speak; but first she uttered a sigh that appeared
to come from the very bottom of her heart, after
which she fell back on the bed fainting, and looked so nearly
dead that they were forced to call for help and for some
water to bathe her face.
The miserable uncle entered, carrying a cross in one hand,
and in the other a sponge dipped in holy water. With him
came two priests, who, thinking that she was possessed by
the evil one, began to exorcise him. The hostess also entered
with water, and after bathing her face she came to
herself, saying, "All these ceremonies are quite unnecessary
now: I shall go away soon, but it will not be at your pleasure,
but when I myself think fit, and that will be when
Andrew Marulo, the son of Juan Baptista Marulo, a gentleman
of this city, shall arrive here, which said Andrew is
now a student at Salamanca, very little thinking of what is
happening here."
All that she said only confirmed the bystanders in the
opinion that she was possessed, for they could not imagine
how she could know anything about Juan Baptista Marulo,
or his son Andrew, and some one present hastened to tell this
Juan Baptista what the fair maniac had said of him and of his
son. She again entreated to be left alone with those she
had before chosen. The priests crossed themselves, and
left her as she desired; judging from all she had said, they
concluded that she was verily possessed with an evil spirit.
Again did Felicia Flora investigate the apartment, and
shutting the door, she said to the afflicted young girl, "We
are alone now, lady, tell us what you wish."
"What I wish," said Isabella, "is first that you unfasten
these ligatures, which although soft, yet fatigue me, because
they restrain me."
They did as she desired speedily, and then Isabella seated
herself upon the bed, holding Auristella with one hand and
Ruperta with the other, and making Constance and Felicia
Flora sit as close as they could to her on the bed, forming
thus a lovely group, and with a low voice and tearful eyes
she thus spoke:—
"Ladies, I am the unhappy Isabella Castrucho, whose
parents bestowed on me noble birth; fortune gave me large
possessions, and Heaven conferred on me the gift of some
degree of beauty. My parents came from Capua, but I was
born in Spain, and brought up there in the house of an uncle,
whom you saw here, and who belonged to the imperial court.
Ah Heavens! must I go so far back to trace the origin of
my misfortunes! Living then in my uncle's house, and left
an orphan by my parents, who, dying, bequeathed me to
his guardianship, it happened that there arrived at court a
young gentleman, whom I afterwards saw at church, and
looked at to such purpose; (and do not for this pronounce
me bold and forward, ladies, but consider I am but a woman;)
I looked at him in the church I repeat, and the impression
I received was such, that when I returned home
his image was constantly before my eyes; I could not get
the recollection of his looks out of my head. It ended in
my making inquiries concerning him, and what was his
quality and character, and what he was doing at court, and
whither he was going; and the result of my inquiries was,
that I heard he was called Andrew Marulo, the son of
Juan Baptista Marulo, a gentleman of this city, more noble
by birth than rich in worldly goods, and that he was going
to study at Salamanca. During the week he remained I
found means to write him a note, and tell him who I was,
and what property I possessed; as to my looks, he could
form his own opinion, having seen me at church: I also
told him that it was my uncle's intention to marry me to a
cousin of my own, so as to keep my fortune in the family,—a
man who was neither to my liking, nor suited to me at
all, which is the truth. I bade him seize the opportunity
that offered itself, and not by refusing it give himself cause
for future repentance; and I begged that he would not consider
my forwardness as a reason for denying me his esteem.
His answer was, that having seen me very frequently in
church, for myself alone, without any of those advantages
of birth and fortune of which I spoke, he would have preferred
me to all others, and would, if it were in his power,
gladly make me mistress of the whole world; and he implored
me to continue firm and faithful in my feelings for
him, at least until he could leave a friend of his at Salamanca,
with whom he was going to that city to finish his studies.
I replied that I could promise him this, since my love was
not impetuous or indiscreet—quickly kindled, and as quickly
extinguished. He then parted with me at the call of honour,
not wishing to desert his friend, and with many tears which
I saw him shed as he was going through the street where
I lived on the day of his departure, he went, yet never left
me; I too went along with him, and yet I did not depart
the following day; who would believe it? In how many
ways doth misfortune bring about the accomplishment of
her ends to the unhappy; the following day, I say, my uncle
resolved to return to Italy, and take me with him; and I
could devise no excuse, nor feign sickness, for my pulse
was strong, and my complexion healthy; my uncle could
not have believed that I was ill, but that I was averse to
his matrimonial project, and so sought for means to escape
going. I found a moment in which to write and tell Andrew
what had happened, and that I was forced to depart,
but that I would try and go by this city, where I would
feign myself possessed by the evil one, and so gain time
for delay to allow time for him to leave Salamanca, and
come to Lucca, where, in spite of my uncle and of the
whole world, he should be my husband; that my happiness
and his own depended upon the haste he made.
If this plan pleased him, if my letter reached him, and it
must have done, for the posts are safe and certain, he will
be here before three days have passed: I, on my side, have
done all I could; I have a legion of devils within me, for
is it not that to have an ounce of love in one's heart, when
hope afar off is flattering one's affections? This, ladies, is
my story; this, my madness, this, my illness, my love-sick
thoughts are the demons which torment me; I feel no hunger,
because I expect the fulfilment of every desire; nevertheless,
doubt and anxiety pursue me, for as the saying is,
there is many a slip between the cup and the lip. Help
me, then, dear ladies, in keeping up my imposture, and
assist me by persuading my uncle, if I am not better, to
delay our journey further for some days; perhaps it
may please Heaven to bless me with the coming of my
Andrew."
We need not ask whether the hearers were not greatly
astonished at the story of Isabella, since the story was in
itself a wonder, and must strike as such the ears of all who
heard it. They offered their services to assist her in her
devices, and to obtain delay, in hopes of soon seeing the end
of them, as they were not able to wait much longer themselves.
CHAPTER XXI.
The fair Isabella made haste to assume the
part of a possessed one again, and her four
new friends to support her by confirming
the idea of her illness, and that she was verily
possessed by an evil spirit; and truly love
was such, since it could make a woman seem a demoniac.
Things were in this state, and evening coming on, when
the physician returned to pay a second visit, and by chance
he brought with him Juan Baptista Marulo, father of Andrew,
the lover. As they entered the sick room, he said,
"Look at this young lady, Señor Juan Baptista; is it not
a pity that a demon should have possession of so fair a body,
but we console ourselves with one hope, and that is, that
the evil spirit said he would go away when your son Andrew
should arrive, and we are expecting him every instant."
"So I have heard," said the Señor Juan Baptista, "and
I should rejoice if anything of mine were to be the harbinger
of such good news."
"Thanks to me and my diligence," cried Isabella, "but
for that he might be still at Salamanca doing the Lord knows
what. The Señor Juan Baptista, who is here present, may
believe me when I tell him he has a son who is more handsome
than holy, and not so studious as he is gallant. Evil
betide the fine ornaments and gay attire of those youths who
commit such havoc in the republic; and ill betide the spurs
that are not sharp, and the mules that do not bestir themselves."
Thus she ran on, stringing together all kinds of dubious
words, such as might convey two meanings to those who
were in the secret, and the bystanders in general. These
interpreted them as they were meant. Those considered
them as incoherent nonsense.
"Where did you see my son Andrew, lady?" asked
Marulo; "was it at Madrid, or Salamanca?"
"It was at Illescas," said Isabella: "he was gathering
cherries on the morning of St. John at day-break; but if I
must speak the truth, and it is a marvel if I do so, I see him
everywhere, and carry him ever in my heart."
"Better to be gathering cherries than catching fleas," replied
Marulo, "for that is the common occupation of the
students."
"Those creatures," she replied, "are bold, and will enter
the stocking of a prince as freely as the blanket of a?
hospital."
"You know everything, evil one," said the doctor; "it
seems clear that you are an old hand." He spoke this to
the devil, who, as he imagined, was inhabiting Isabella's body.
And now, just as if Satan had ordained it, the old uncle
of Isabella entered with every mark of the greatest joy, crying
out, "A reward! my niece, my beloved child; a reward
for the news I bring. The Señor Andrew Marulo,
son of this gentleman, Señor Juan Baptista, is just arrived;
and now Heaven grant that we may see the promise accomplished,
which you gave of being freed from the evil spirit
at the sight of him."
Accursed demon, vade retro, exi foras, and never think
of returning to this dwelling, which thou shalt see purged
and purified.
"Let him come," said Isabella. "Let this reputed
Ganymede, this counterfeit Adonis, come, and give me his
hand as a husband, free and unrestrained, for here am I expecting
him, firm as a rock whereon the sea waves break,
but cannot move."
Andrew Marulo entered: he had already heard in his
father's house of the stranger lady's illness, and of her expecting
him to give the sign and expel the demon. The young
man was discreet, and already prepared by the letters Isabella
had written to him at Salamanca, for the part he was
to play when he arrived at Lucca. So without changing
his travelling dress he hurried to the inn where Isabella was,
and entering her apartment, like one half mad or crazed,
he cried, "Avaunt, avaunt, avaunt; begone, begone, begone,
for here cometh the valorous Andrew, the great commander,
and lord of hell." Those who knew the state of
the case were greatly amused by all this tumult and outcry;
but the physician, and even his own father, said, "Why
this man is as much possessed as Isabella herself;" and the
uncle said, "We expected this young man would come to
help us, and do good, and I think he is come to do more
harm."
"My son," cried his father, "be composed, calm yourself;
you are like a madman."
"He will not be mad long," said Isabella, "if he will
come to me. Am not I the centre where all his wishes and
thoughts rest? am not I the goal he desires to reach?"
"Assuredly thou art," said Andrew; "thou art the
mistress of my heart, my life, and my soul. Give me thy
hand, and be my wife, O lady mine, and release me from
the thraldom under which I labour, to chain me in thy
fetters, and make me submissive to thy yoke; once more I
say give me thy hand, beloved one, and exalt the humble
Andrew Marulo to the high rank of Isabella Castrucho's
husband. May every evil demon who would hinder this
sweet union, fly hence for ever, and let not man divide those
whom God has joined together."
"You speak well, Señor Andrew," said Isabella, "and
that no plans, machinations, or treachery may intervene,
give me your hand as my husband, and receive mine as
your wife." Andrew put forth his hand to take hers, and
Auristella raised her voice and said, "It is good, it should
be so given that they may be made one."
Astonished and stupified, Isabella's uncle seized the
hand of Andrew, and said, "Sir, what means this? Is it
the custom in this country for one devil to marry another?"
"No, truly," said the physician, "this must needs be a
joke to make the devil go; it is impossible that this case
now happening could be foreseen by human understanding."
"Nevertheless," said Isabella's uncle, "I desire to know
from their own lips, what this marriage means, a jest, or a
truth."
"A truth," said Isabella, "for neither is Andrew mad,
nor I possessed. I have chosen him, and prefer him as
my husband, if he loves, and chooses me as a wife."
"Neither mad nor possessed, but in my perfect senses,
such as God has been pleased to give me;" so saying, Andrew
took Isabella's hand, and she gave him hers, and they
were thus affianced.
"What is this?" cried Castrucho; "can it be that you
will thus dishonour the old man's white hairs?"
"An alliance with my family can dishonour no one," said
Andrew's father. "I am noble, and if not rich, yet not
poor enough to ask for anything from anybody. I have
never engaged in any mercantile concerns: these young
people have made this marriage without my knowledge, for
in young heads wisdom is not measured by years, and if
young heads do foolish things sometimes, yet they often
make good hits, and when they do so, although by chance,
they frequently succeed better than the most prudent."
Two priests who were present said that the marriage was
valid, since, if it had begun under the guise of madness, it
had been confirmed in sober truth.
"And again I will confirm it," said Andrew; and so
said Isabella. On hearing all this, the uncle, heart-broken,
let his head fall upon his breast, and heaving a deep sigh,
turned up his eyes, and seemed to have received his death-blow.
He was carried to bed by his servants. Isabella
rose from hers. Andrew took her home to his father's
house, as his wife. Two days after this there came into
the church a child (the young brother of Andrew) to be
christened; Isabella and Andrew to be married, and the body
of her uncle to be buried. Such and so strange are the
events of human life. At the same moment some are
christened, others married, and others buried.
Isabella was obliged to wear mourning for that which is
called death, and thus closely met together the grave and
the bridal bed, mourning and mirth.
Four days more did our pilgrims remain in Lucca, and
they were hospitably entertained by the newly-married pair,
and the noble Juan Baptista Marulo. And here the author
ends the third book of his history.
BOOK IV.
CHAPTER I.
Which shows what was the conversation that passed between
Periander and Auristella.
Many and long were the disputes among our
little band of pilgrims, whether the marriage
of Isabella Castrucho, effected by so many
devices and so much deceit, was valid or not.
Periander oftentimes repeated that it was so,
for that it was not their business to search into the case,
but the thing which had displeased him was the mingling of
baptism, marriage, and funeral together, and the ignorance
of the physician, who had not been skilful enough to see
through the trick of Isabella, nor to perceive the danger of
her uncle. Sometimes they discoursed upon these matters,
at others they retraced their past dangers. Croriano and
Ruperta were eagerly trying to discover who Periander and
Auristella could be, but they could not succeed in this;
Constance and Antonio they also knew nothing of. They
had known who the three French ladies were from the first
commencement of their acquaintance.
By easy journeys they reached Aqua-pendente, a place
near Rome. As they approached the town Periander and
Auristella went on a little in advance of the others, out of
hearing, and Periander spoke thus:—"You know well, dear
lady, that the reasons which made us leave our own country
and our royalty were as good as they were necessary. Already
is the air of Rome playing on our cheeks, and the
hopes that have supported us are beating in our hearts;
already it seems to me that I am in possession of the beloved
object so long desired. Look well, O Lady, whether
your feelings still remain unchanged; scrutinize well your
heart, and see if it is still firm and true to its first intentions,
or will be after you have fulfilled your vow, which I doubt
not that it will, for your royal blood cannot deceive nor
give false promises. Let me then hear you say, O lovely
Sigismunda, that the Periander you see before you, is the
Persiles that you saw in the palace of my royal father; the
same Persiles who pledged his word to you to be your
husband there, and who would gladly fulfil that promise
in the Deserts of Lybia, should our adverse fortune take us
there."
Auristella looked wonderingly at him, listening attentively
to all he said. She marvelled how Periander could
doubt her truth, and said to him:—"O Persiles, in all my
life I have never loved but one, that one has been yourself.
It is now two years since I gave my heart to you, not perforce,
but of my own free-will, and it is as firm and true
now as it was the first day I made you master of it. If
it were possible that my affection could have increased, it
would have done so among the many wanderings and dangers
we have gone through together; it gives pleasure to me
to hear that you are unchanged in yours for me, and in
accomplishing my vow I shall willingly fulfil my promise
to you; but tell me, what are we to do afterwards, since
we are still bound by the same constraint, and still under
the dominion of the same yoke that is about our necks?
We are far distant from our homes, and known to none in
these countries, without any support to cling to in our need.
I do not speak thus, because I lack the courage to suffer any
inconveniences or distresses, since it will be with you, but
I say it because any trouble you may be in will be mine
also; until now my heart has suffered alone, henceforward
it will suffer for itself and for you, though I am wrong to
talk of two hearts, for are not ours but one?"
"Lady," replied Periander, "why should we not be
the fabricators of our own fortune? they say every man
makes his own from beginning to end. I will not answer
for what I may do after our happy fate has united us; the
inconvenience of our present divided state will soon be
over, when we are one; there are fields enough where we
can maintain ourselves, cottages wherein we may find shelter
and clothes to cover us; for as to the happiness two souls
made one, can feel, it is as you say unequalled by any other,
and we could not enjoy this more beneath the gilded roofs
of a palace. We shall find means to let my mother know
where we are, and she will not fail in finding a way to help
us, and in the mean time we have an inestimable treasure in
our diamond cross, and the two pearls of priceless value
which you possess, and which we have no fear of losing, for
who would think such treasures could be hid beneath a
pilgrim's weeds?"
Here they were overtaken by the rest of their party, and
the conversation ceased, which was the first they had held
upon these kind of subjects; for Auristella's excessive modesty
and reserve never gave any opportunities to Periander
to talk to her in private, and thus they had been able to
keep up the play of brother and sister with all who knew
them. The deceased Clodio, alone, had ever suspected the
truth.
A part of this and the beginning of second Chapter are
omitted, and Chapter II. included in Chapter I.
The travellers were now approaching Rome, the sight
of which rejoiced their hearts, and the joy which filled their
souls also invigorated their bodies. The hearts of Periander
and Auristella beat tumultuously, as they saw themselves so
near the end of all their desires. Those of Croriana and
Ruperta, and those of the three French ladies were gladdened
at the prospect of a happy termination to their journey,
and Constance and Antonio shared in this feeling of
satisfaction.
The sun had reached his meridian height, and the heat
was excessively great; there was a little wood to the right of
the road, and they determined to go thither and to gain a
shelter from the scorching rays which threatened to be intolerable,
and to remain there perhaps even for the night,
as they did not wish to enter Rome till the next day. They
went accordingly, and as they advanced further into the
wood the pleasantness of the place and the freshness of
the herbage, through which clear streams murmured, confirmed
them in their first intention. They penetrated so
far in, that on looking around, they found they were quite
hidden from the sight of any one passing along the public
road, and as they were debating where to settle themselves,
from the variety of pleasant spots which offered for
their choice, all equally peaceful and inviting, Auristella,
looking up by chance, perceived a picture hanging on the
bough of a green willow, about the size of a quarter of a
sheet of paper. It was a painting of the face only, of a very
beautiful woman; on looking a little closer at the picture
she saw clearly that it was her own likeness, and, surprised
and wondering, she pointed it out to Periander; at the
same instant Croriano exclaimed, that the ground was wet
with blood, and he shewed them his feet all dyed with the
crimson hue, and it was yet warm. The picture, which Periander
instantly took down, and the blood which Croriano had
discovered, disturbed them greatly, and made them anxious
to find out the owner of the one and the cause of the other.
Auristella was at a loss to divine when and how anybody
could have become possessed of her picture, nor did Periander
recollect that the servant of the Duke de Nemours
had told him that the artist who had painted the portraits
of the three French ladies, could also take that of Auristella,
though he had seen her only once. If he had remembered
this, he might easily have come to the conclusion which he
did not guess. Croriano and Antonio followed the track
of blood till they came to a sort of thicket or tuft of trees,
at the foot of one of which, they saw a man of noble aspect,
dressed as a pilgrim, seated on the ground with his hand
pressed upon his heart, and covered with blood, a sight
which distressed them very greatly to look upon, and still
more when it met the eyes of Croriano, who went up to
him, and raising his head, he discovered a countenance all
bleeding and wounded, which, having wiped with a handkerchief,
he knew to be the Duke de Nemours, for in spite
of the different dress in which he found him, he recognized
him at once, for they were great friends. The wounded
duke, or he who appeared to be the duke, without opening his
eyes, said in feeble accents, "Better, far better would it have
been, O thou, whoever thou mayest be, mortal enemy of
my peace, had the blow which thou hast struck been through
my heart, for there thou wouldst have found a portrait still
more vivid and true than the one which thou hast taken
from me, and hung upon the tree, that it might not serve
as a shield and defence to me in the hour of battle."
Constance, who had now come up, being of a tender and
compassionate nature, hastened to inspect the wounds of
the sufferer, and to staunch the flowing blood, without attending
to the complaining words he uttered. Meantime
Periander and Auristella, guided also by the same bloody
track, had gone on a little further, and discovered among
some green rushes, another man, also in pilgrim's weeds, and
equally bloody, except his face, which was clean, and exposed
to view, and was therefore instantly known by them
both to be the Prince Arnoldo, who lay before them more
dead than alive.
The first sign of life he gave was an attempt to rise, saying,
"No, traitor, thou shalt not carry it off; the picture
is mine; it is that of the beloved of my own soul: thou
hast stolen it, and now wouldst take my life."
At the unexpected vision of Arnoldo, Auristella trembled,
and although the remembrance of all she owed him inclined
her to hasten to his assistance, she durst not from fear of
Periander, who in a kind and courteous manner took the
prince's hand, and in a low voice (lest he should perchance
betray the secret of his name, which he might wish concealed)
he said, "Recover yourself, Prince Arnoldo, and
you will see that you are amongst friends, and that you
are not so forsaken by Heaven, but that better fortune yet
awaits you. Open your eyes, and you will see your friend
Periander, and your grateful Auristella, as desirous as ever
of serving you. Tell us about this misfortune, and all that
has befallen you since we parted; on our part we promise
to lend you every assistance in our power; tell us where
you are wounded, and by whom, that we may try and find
some remedy."
At this Arnoldo opened his eyes, and recognizing them
at once, he attempted, but with extreme difficulty, to throw
himself at the feet of Auristella, whilst he embraced Periander,
even at such a moment remembering to respect the
modesty of Auristella, on whom he fixed his eyes, exclaiming,
"Is it possible that I see thee, O lady? Can it be indeed
Auristella, and not her image only, for sure no spirit
ever dwelt in form so fair? Yes, thou art Auristella herself,
without a doubt, and I too am that same Arnoldo who
has ever adored thee; even now am I come hither in search
of thee, for without thee my soul is desolate."
Whilst this was passing, Croriano and the rest had heard
of the discovery of another pilgrim, who also seemed badly
hurt and wounded, and Constance having stopped the flow
of blood, and bound up the wounds of the duke, now came
to see if she could give any assistance to the other wounded
person. When she recognised Arnoldo, she at first stood still,
astonished and confused, but soon overcoming her surprise,
she, without asking any other questions, hastened to inquire
concerning his hurt. To which the prince replied by pointing
to his left arm, where his wound was; Constance instantly
removed his sleeve, and found the upper part of the
arm was pierced quite through. She staunched the blood,
which was still flowing in streams, and telling Periander
who the other wounded man was, she advised that they
should both be removed without delay to the nearest house,
that they might obtain surgical aid, for the greatest danger
was to be feared from the excessive loss of blood.
When Arnoldo heard the name of the Duke de Nemours,
he trembled all over, and the cold freezing shudder of jealousy
rushed through every bloodless vein, and almost without
knowing what he said, he muttered, "Whether duke or
king, neither the one nor the other can deserve Auristella;"
and he added aloud, "Do not take us both to the same
place, for the presence of him who has aggrieved one, will
not tend to improve the condition of the sufferer."
Some servants now came up, two of whom took up Arnoldo,
and the others took charge of the duke. They had
left their masters alone by their own command, and had
gone on before to a place near at hand to prepare lodgings
for their respective masters.
"Go," said Arnoldo, "and look well upon the trees that
are hereabouts, to see if there is a picture hanging upon any
one of them, which was the cause of the combat that took
place between the duke and myself. Take it down, and
give it to me, for it has caused much blood, and is mine by
right."
The duke meanwhile was saying very much the same
thing to Ruperta and Croriano, and those who were about
him; but Periander satisfied both parties by saying that he
had got the picture, and would keep it in his own care as
a deposit, which should be restored to the right owner at a
better opportunity.
"It it possible," said Arnoldo, "that anybody can question
my right to that picture? Is it not known to every
one, that from the first moment I beheld the original, her
image has dwelt within my heart? however, let my brother
Periander keep it at present, for whilst he has it, it will prevent
all jealousies, anger, and ill feeling; and now take me
away, for I am very faint."
They immediately contrived the best means they could
devise for the two wounded princes, whose danger proceeded
more from loss of blood than the depth of the
wounds; and so they were conveyed to the place where
their servants had prepared the best lodging and accommodation
it could afford for their masters.
Until this moment the duke had not known that his adversary
was the Prince Arnoldo.
CHAPTER III.
They enter Rome, and lodge in the house of a Jew
named Manasseh.
It aroused the envy and indignation of the
three French ladies to find how much more
Auristella's portrait was valued by the duke
than theirs, which they knew had been
brought to him by the servant who was sent
to get their pictures for his lord, as has been already related.
They heard from him that theirs were much esteemed, but
that hers was idolized, a thing which dwelt very heavily
upon their hearts, for it is well-known that no beauty can
bear to be excelled by another without mortal displeasure;
they cannot even bear comparisons, for as the common saying
goes, "That all comparisons are odious" in the case of
rival beauty, they become doubly odious, unless friendship,
relationship, quality, and high station, stand in the way of
this accursed jealousy and envy, for such it may well be
called.
The servant also told them that the duke, his master, enamoured
of the beautiful portrait, had quitted Paris in order
to seek out the pilgrim Auristella; that he had seated himself
that morning at the foot of a tree, with the picture in
his hand, and was discoursing with it as if it had been the
living original. That, whilst he was thus occupied, another
pilgrim passed by, and looking over his shoulder, could hear
what the duke said; "without," said he, "myself or the
other servants being able to prevent it, for we were a good
way off. We came up at last, and hastened to warn the duke
that he was overheard. He turned his head, and saw the
pilgrim, who, without speaking a word, snatched the picture
from his hand, who, taken unawares, had not time to defend
himself, and what I heard him say, at least, all I could
make out, was, 'Robber of this celestial prize, profane not
with those sacrilegious hands this precious thing. Give up
the picture whereon that heavenly beauty is portrayed, both
because thou dost not deserve to possess it, and also because
it belongs to me.'
"'I say that it does not,' answered the other; 'and if
I cannot now find any one to bear witness to the truth of
what I say, I will leave it to be decided by the edge of the
sword, which I wear concealed within this pilgrim's staff.
I am the true and sole possessor of that incomparable beauty,
for in far distant lands from these where we now are, I purchased
her with my treasures, and worshipped her with my
whole heart, and I have served the original of that picture
with faithful service, and through many perils and wanderings.'
"Then the duke turning to us, imperiously commanded
us to leave them alone, and to come on here, where we were
to wait for him, and we were not even to dare to turn round
and look what he was about. The other pilgrim gave a
similar command to the two servants who attended him.
In spite of the orders I had received, I had the curiosity to
look back, and I saw the stranger pilgrim hang the picture
upon the bough of a tree, and then, as I rather conjectured
than actually saw, he drew out of his staff a short sword,
or a weapon that looked like one, and attacked my master,
who met his attack with another sword, which he also
carried hidden in his staff. The servants on both sides
wished to interfere and part the combatants, but I was of
a different opinion, telling them that as the combat was
equal, and between only two persons, without fear or suspicion
of help to either side, it was best for us to go on our
way, as we had been desired. We came here, prepared the
apartments quickly, and in a short space of time returned
to see what had been the fate of our masters. We found
them as you saw, where, but for your succour, and if you
had not arrived, our arrival would have been too late."
So said the servant; and the ladies listened, and felt as
if they had indeed been in love with the duke: at the same
instant the plan and hope of marrying him, if ever entertained
by either of them, entirely vanished, for nothing destroys
or blots out love so quickly from the fancy, as finding
it met by disdain or neglect in its first beginning. Disdain
starves love in its infancy just as hunger affects the body.
Hunger and want of sleep will reduce the bravest spirit, and
disdain will kill the warmest desires. It is true that this is in
the beginning only, for later, when love has gained strength,
and taken possession of the heart, disdain and ill treatment
only act as a spur to urge on still faster its feelings.
In about a week, the wounded princes were cured, and
able to set out for Rome, from whence surgeons had been
sent for to see them.
By this time the duke knew that his adversary was the
heir of the crown of Denmark, and also knew of his intentions
of choosing Auristella for a wife. This weighed heavily
on his thoughts, which were the same as Arnoldo's. It
seemed to him that she who was deemed fit to be a queen,
might be also fit for a duchess; but amidst all these reflections,
jealousy was foremost, embittering every thought, and
destroying his repose.
At last the day of their departure arrived, and the duke
and Arnoldo each entered Rome privately, unknown to any
one. The other pilgrims having reached the top of a high
hill, came in view of that city, and at the sight they fell
upon their knees, and worshipped, as if it were a holy thing.
They entered Rome by the gate del Popolo, (having gone
through the Prados de Madama,) and devoutly kissed the
thresholds and edges of the gates which led to the holy
city.
One of Croriano's servants met two Jews, as he entered
the town, and they inquired whether the party was prepared
with lodgings, for if not they could provide some, fit
to lodge a prince. "You must know, sir," said one, "that
we are Jews; I am called Zabulon, and my companion,
Abihud. Our business is to furnish and adorn houses with
all things necessary, according to the rank and quality of
those who hire them. The payment, of course, depends
upon the sort of accommodation required."
The servant told him that one of his fellow servants had
gone to Rome the day before, with the purpose of preparing
a lodging suitable to the quality of their master, and
those who were with him. "May I die," said Abihud,
"if this is not the Frenchman who yesterday hired the house
of our friend Manasseh, which is fitted up like a palace."
"Then," replied the servant, "we must go on, for my companion
must be expecting our arrival, and will come to
show us the way, and should the house he has provided not
suit us, we will commend ourselves to you, Signor Zabulon."
So saying, he passed on, and at the entrance of the
town the Jews saw their friend Manasseh with Croriano's
servant, by which they knew that his house was the one
engaged, and well contented our pilgrims were guided thither.
It was situated near the Arch of Portugal.
Hardly had the French ladies made their appearance in
the town, when they attracted every eye, and it being a festival-day
the street of our Lady del Popolo was full of people;
but the admiration they excited, increased prodigiously when
the peerless Auristella and the graceful Constance by her side
appeared, like two bright stars that shine together in the
sky. A Roman who saw them (I believe he must have been
a poet) said, "I will lay a wager that this must be the goddess
Venus, who, as in times of old, is come to visit the
relics of her loved Eneas. By Heavens! the governor is
wrong not to give orders that they may cover the face of
this moving idol: does he wish to make the sober ones wild,
to destroy the tender-hearted, and turn the foolish youths
into idolaters?"
And so amidst praises and admiration, carried even to
the heights of hyperbole, passed on the lovely band, and
reached the lodging which had been prepared to receive
them, and which was splendid and spacious enough to have
lodged a king, or a moderate sized regiment.
CHAPTER IV.
What passed between Arnoldo and Periander, and between
the Duke de Nemours and Croriano.
On the following day the news of the arrival
of the French ladies, and the little band of
pilgrims, had spread throughout the town.
Chiefly did the general voice extol Auristella's
superhuman beauty, exaggerating it
even to the utmost. The house was encompassed by persons,
brought by curiosity, and the desire of gazing upon
so much beauty assembled in one place, as people talked of.
It rose to such a height at last that they even called out from
the street to summon the ladies to appear at the windows,
but they were reposing, and would not let themselves be
seen. Especially they called out for Auristella, but they did
not succeed in catching a sight of any one of the party.
Among the rest who appeared at the door were Arnoldo
and the duke, still in their pilgrim's dresses, and scarcely
did they set eyes upon each other than they felt their jealous
hatred revive, and their hearts beat wildly in their breasts.
From the windows they were seen by Periander, who
told Croriano, and they instantly descended together, to prevent,
as much as possible, the chance of an encounter between
the two jealous lovers.
Periander went to meet Arnoldo, and Croriano, the duke.
Arnoldo said, "One of the heaviest weights upon my mind,
on the subject of Auristella, is to think how this French
gentleman, who is said to be the Duke de Nemours, can
have obtained possession of her picture, since she is under
your care; it appears to have been given by her willingly,
yet I possess none. Look you now, friend Periander; in
this infirmity, by lovers called jealousy, but which is rather
desperate rage, envy and scorn enter in, and when once
they gain possession of an enamoured heart, no consideration
can soothe, no remedy avail, and however small may be the
causes which first engendered it, its effects are so great that
at the least they can overthrow reason, and often can destroy
the very life. Better is it for a jealous lover to die of despair
than to live in jealousy. If he be a true lover, he is not
bold enough to show his suspicions to the beloved one, and
should he be perfect enough not to show it, he cannot help
feeling it, he cannot feel secure, for things that are of great
value keep their possessor in continual fear lest he should
lose them. Thus the passion of jealousy, is one, inseparable
from a heart that truly loves. I advise thee, O my friend
Periander, (if I may give advice who cannot give it to myself,)
to reflect that I am a king, and that I am very deeply
in love; and thou must be aware from a thousand proofs,
that I shall accomplish in my deeds, that which I promise
in words, to receive thy peerless sister with no other portion
than that she brings so largely in her virtue and her
beauty, and that I care not to investigate what her origin
may be, since it is clear Nature cannot deny the gifts of
fortune to one on whom she has conferred so many. Never,
or very rarely, are the highest virtues found in base-born
subjects, and beauty of person is oftentimes indicative of
beauty of soul, and to sum up all, I once again repeat what
I have said so often; I adore Auristella, whether she spring
from heavenly birth or from the lowest of the low; and
since we are now at Rome, where she has always promised
to decide my fate, be my advocate with her, and henceforth
I divide my crown and kingdom with thee, and do
not let me be mocked by this duke, nor scorned by her
whom I adore."
To all these speeches, offers, and promises, Periander
thus replied: "If my sister had been to blame with respect
to the offence you have to complain about from the duke,
if I did not punish her I should at least renounce her, and
that would be to her the greatest possible punishment; but
as I know she is perfectly innocent, I cannot tell what answer
to make you, and as to the hopes which she permitted
you to form when she should have reached this city, as
I cannot tell what they were, I do not know how to answer
that either. For the offers you now make, and have
already made, I am as grateful as I ought to be, considering
who you are, and to whom they are made; for with all
humility be it said, O noble Arnoldo, perhaps this poor pilgrim's
frock may serve as a cloud, such as we sometimes see
the sun hidden behind. Be still for the present and compose
yourself, we only arrived yesterday, and it is not possible
that, in so short a space of time, consequences should
have been deduced, traces given, and chimeras removed, so
as to bring everything right as we could wish. Avoid, as
much as possible, all encounters with the duke, for a lover
who is not encouraged, and whose hopes are weak, tries to
invent and imagine what does not exist, even though it be
against the beloved object herself."
Arnoldo promised to do as he advised, and offered him
money and all that could be required to furnish magnificent
entertainment both for himself and all the party.
The conversation between the duke and Croriano was
different, since it all ran upon the determination of the duke
to recover his portrait, and to make Arnoldo confess he had
no right to it. He also begged Croriano would intercede
in his favour with Auristella to accept him as her husband,
since, said he, his station was no ways inferior to that of
Arnoldo, and his family was one of the most illustrious in
Europe; in fine, he displayed great arrogance and no small
jealousy, like a man very much in love.
Croriano offered to do all he could, and to let him know
what answer Auristella gave to the offer he made her.
CHAPTER V.
And thus the two jealous rivals and enemies
departed, and took leave, the one of Periander,
and the other of Croriano, both their
hopes alike founded on air; each, however,
being of the same mind to restrain his impetuosity
and dissimulate his anger, at least until Auristella
had declared which was to be the favoured one—each hoping
it would be himself—since the offer of a kingdom and
of a condition as high as that the duke could boast, might
well be thought temptations enough to shake any previous
intentions, for it is natural to love grandeur, and to aim at
improving one's condition in life, more especially this is the
case with women. But Auristella took small heed of all
this, as every thought of hers at that moment was centred in
being properly instructed in all the truths that concerned
her soul's salvation; for having been born in a country so
far off, that in it the Christian faith was not as clear and
perfect as it should be, she held it necessary that hers should
be purified in its true home.
She took care to instruct herself well upon every particular
of the holy Catholic faith, which she had only dimly
understood in her own land. She found a sure means of
explaining what she wanted by the confessional, where she
made her full and entire confession, and was taught and satisfied
about everything she desired to know, for these confessors
explained to her in the best way they could all the
principal and most needful mysteries of our holy religion.
They began with the envy and pride of Lucifer, and of his
fall with the third part of the stars that fell with him into
the abyss,—a fall which left vacant the heavenly seats, which
these bad angels lost by their folly and sin. They explained
the means God took to fill these empty seats, creating man,
whose soul was made capable of the glory lost by these
fallen angels. They discoursed upon the truths of the creation
of man and of the world, and of the sacred and loving
mystery of the incarnation, and with wondrous skill they
sketched the deep mystery of the most holy Trinity. They
told how it was necessary that the second person of the
three, who is the Son, should make himself man, in order
that he might, as man, redeem all mankind, and as God,
might redeem as God, which hypostatic union alone could
satisfy God for the infinite sin committed; and which the
infinite Deity could satisfy, and finite man could not by himself
alone, and God by himself alone could not be appeased,
but that the two together had the property of being infinite,
and thus came redemption. They spoke of the death
of Christ, the labours and troubles of his life, from the hour
of his beginning his work, to his death upon the cross. They
exalted the strength and efficacy of the sacraments, and
pointed to the second article of our duty, repentance, which
alone can open the path to Heaven, which sin has closed.
They showed the Saviour Jesus Christ, as the living God,
seated on the right hand of the Father, in full perfection in
Heaven, as he is on earth by transubstantiation in the sacrament,
which holy presence no absence can divide or part,
for one of God's greatest attributes is, that he is everywhere
in essence, and in presence. They assured her of the infallible
coming again of the Lord to judge the world, and
establish firmly his church, against which the gates or rather
the forces of hell shall avail little. They told of the power
of the supreme Pontiff, God's vicegerent on earth, and who
holds the keys of Heaven. At last there remained nothing
to be taught, or that was necessary for Periander and Auristella
to understand. These lessons filled their hearts with
joy, drew them out of themselves, and raised them almost
to the Heaven where their thoughts rested.
CHAPTER VI.
Arnoldo and the Duke de Nemours contend which shall
purchase a Portrait of Auristella.
From this time Periander and Auristella beheld
each other with different eyes, at least
with other eyes did Periander look upon his
Auristella, for now as it appeared to him,
she had fulfilled the vow which brought her
to Rome, and might freely and openly accept him as her
husband.
But she meanwhile was seeking on all sides some light
from above to discern what they were to do after they were
married, for it was folly and madness to think of returning
to their own country, because she had been destined to become
the wife of Periander's elder brother, and he, finding
his hopes thus frustrated, would probably seek to avenge his
disappointments on his brother and Auristella. These
thoughts and apprehensions made her sometimes low-spirited,
and at other times pensive.
The French ladies visited the churches, and performed
the prayers of the stations with much pomp and majesty,
for Croriano was a relation of the French ambassador, and
nothing was wanting that was necessary to do them honour.
They always took Auristella and Constance with them, and
never left the house without being followed by half Rome.
It chanced one day as they were passing through a street,
the name of which is Bancos, they saw against a wall in
one of the houses, a picture. It was the full-length portrait
of a woman, with a crown on her head, which was divided
in half, and at her feet a world, on which she stood. They
had scarcely looked at it when they knew it was the likeness
of Auristella, painted so to the life that it was not possible
to doubt for an instant who it was. Auristella wonderingly
asked whose the picture was, and if it was to be
sold? The owner of it (who, as they afterwards knew,
was a celebrated painter) said that the picture was for sale,
but he did not know whom it represented. He only knew
that a friend of his had made a copy of it in France, and
that it was said to be a foreign lady, who was on her way
to Rome in the dress of a pilgrim.
"And what," said Auristella, "does it mean by painting
her with a crown on her head, and a globe beneath her
feet? and moreover, why is the crown divided in two?"
"These things, lady," replied the owner, "are fancies or
caprices of the artist; possibly it means that the lady merits
the crown of superior beauty, and that she has the whole
world at her feet. But it is my opinion that you, lady, are
the original, and that you well deserve a whole crown, and
not a painted world, but a real one."
"What do you ask for this picture?" inquired Constance;
to which the owner answered, "Two pilgrims are here,
one of whom has offered me a thousand crowns of gold,
and the other says that he will not lose it for any money.
The sale is not yet concluded, but it seems to me they
must be jesting, for the exorbitant sum they offer makes
me feel in doubt."
"Yet it is not so," said Constance, "for these pilgrims,
if they are what I believe them to be, could easily give you
even twice what they have promised, and pay you to your
satisfaction."
The French ladies, Ruperta, Croriano, and Periander, all
stood wondering greatly to see the very image of Auristella
painted on this picture. People came in to look at it, and by
degrees a murmur arose, every one declaring that "The picture
which is here to be sold is the same as this pilgrim in the
carriage." They wanted not only to look at the likeness, but
at the original, and so began to surround the carriage in such
a manner that the horses could neither move backwards nor
forwards. "Therefore," said Periander, "Auristella, my
sister, conceal thy face with some kind of veil, for so much
brightness is dazzling, and will not let us see our road."
Auristella did as he desired, and they moved on; yet still
a great many persons followed, hoping that the veil might
be withdrawn, and they might obtain a sight of what they
wished to see. They had not long been gone when Arnoldo,
in his pilgrim's dress, came to the owner of the picture
and said, "I am he who offered a thousand crowns
for this portrait if you will part with it; bring it, and come
with me now, I will count the money out to you directly
in gold." Then came the other pilgrim, who was the Duke
de Nemours, saying, "Do not consider about a price, but
come with me, and name any sum you please, it shall be
yours at once."
"My lords," replied the painter, for so he was, "agree
between yourselves as to who is to carry it off, and we will
not disagree about the price, since I think that you are more
likely to pay me in words than in fact."
A great number of persons stood by listening to this conversation,
expecting to see what would be the result, for
to see thousands of ducats offered for a picture, especially
by two apparently poor pilgrims, seemed a very amusing
matter.
"Then," said the owner of the picture, "let him who
wishes to have it give me some pledge in hand, and I will
deliver it up to him."
Hearing this, Arnoldo put his hand into his breast, and
drew forth a chain of gold, with a jewel set in diamonds
suspended from it, and said, "Take this chain, which,
with the jewel, is worth two thousand crowns, and deliver
up the picture to me."
"This is worth ten thousand," said the duke, giving a
diamond chain to the painter. "Bring it to my house."
"Holy Saints!" cried one of the bystanders, "what can
this picture be? and what can these men and jewels mean?
This looks like a case of enchantment, and I would advise
thee, friend painter, to look well at the chain, and try the
reality of the diamonds before you part with your property,
for both chain and jewels may be false, as one may suspect
by the exaggerated account of their value."
The princes grew angry upon this, but not being desirous
of letting the whole street know their thoughts, they
consented that the master of the picture should ascertain the
real value of the jewels. The crowd in the street now
changed their note, some admiring the picture, others asking
who the pilgrims could be, others looking at the jewels,
and all watching eagerly to see who would get the picture,
because it seemed as if the two pilgrims would have it at
any price.
Its owner would willingly have sold it for much less than
they offered, if they would have let him sell it freely to
either.
Whilst this was going on, the governor of Rome came
by, and heard the noise the people were making; he inquired
the cause, and saw the picture and the jewels. They,
appearing to him to be the property of no ordinary pilgrims,
he hoped to discover some secret, and ordered the
jewels and picture to be taken to his house, and to take the
pilgrims thither also. The painter was left in consternation,
seeing all his expectations thus threatened with defeat, and
his property in the power of justice, whence it seldom returns
again with undiminished lustre.
The painter flew to seek out Periander, and relate to
him all the story of the purchase, and of his fears that the
governor would keep the picture, which he had bought, he
said, in France, from a painter who had sketched it in Portugal
from the original, a thing which seemed to Periander
very likely, during the time Auristella had been at Lisbon.
He then offered to give him a hundred crowns for it, and
run the risk of recovering it. The painter was satisfied,
and although the descent from a thousand to a hundred
crowns was so great, yet he considered he had made a good
bargain.
Whilst they were talking, the Jew Zabulon arrived, and
told Periander that he wished to take him that evening to
see one of the most beautiful women in Rome, indeed, in
all Italy, Hippolyta the Ferrarese. Periander said he would
go willingly, and this not on account of her beauty of person,
nor of her quality, for the courtesy of Periander was
the same whether with the high or the low, for in this had
Nature cast both him and Auristella in one mould. He
concealed from her that he was going to visit Hippolyta,
and the Jew carried him thither more by deceit than any
wish of his to go, but sometimes curiosity helps to deceive,
and blinds even the most cautious and prudent.
CHAPTER VII.
Of a singular Adventure and Peril which befell Periander
through the Malice of a fair Courtezan.
With good manners, great personal charms,
and a richly adorned and splendid house,
many defects will be overlooked, because a
well-bred person does nothing that offends
the eye, and rich ornaments and beauty of
person are always pleasing to look upon, and every one likes
a fine house.
Now Hippolyta possessed all these things. She was a
courtezan, who might have vied in wealth with the Flora
of ancient days; and in courteous manners, with good breeding
itself. It was impossible for those who knew her, not
to love her in some degree, for her beauty enchanted them,
her riches gave her power, and she made herself adored
by the winning courtesy of her manners. When love meets
three such charms as these, it melts even hearts of iron,
opens the closest purse, and breaks through a determination,
though it were made of marble, and still more, when to
these three things you add deceitfulness, and a flattering
tongue,—very convenient qualities for those who desire to
win the admiration of all men by their charms. Is there
by chance a man of such sharp wits, that seeing one of these
charmers, such as I have painted, setting aside her mere
beauty, would not be tempted by her winning and gentle
ways. Beauty partly blinds and partly dazzles; with those
it blinds, the senses are run away with; with those who are
only dazzled, it is the mind that receives pleasure. None
of these things were in Periander's thoughts, as he entered
Hippolyta's house; but as Love sometimes builds his structure
on a careless foundation, he now fabricated one suddenly,
not in Periander's, but in Hippolyta's heart; for in
the bosoms of such as she, it does not require much time
or trouble to light the flame.
Hippolyta had already seen Periander in the street, and
his beauty, grace, and above all, the idea of his being a
Spaniard, had pleased her fancy. From a Spaniard might
be expected the most unheard-of liberality, and the most refined
taste. She had made known her thoughts to Zabulon,
and desired that he would bring him to her house, which
was always in such order and so adorned, as to look more
like preparations for a wedding than the reception of pilgrims.
The lady Hippolyta had a friend, called Pyrrhus, a Calabrian,
a bully, of a hot temper and bad disposition, and
whose living was gained by his sword, his dexterous fingers,
and Hippolyta's contrivances; for he often performed a job
for her, without the help of any one. But what he gained
most from was the nimbleness of his legs, which he prized
more than his hands, and what he chiefly valued himself
on was, that he could always keep Hippolyta in fear of him,
in whatever mood he might be, amorous or severe; for these
tame doves are never without hawks to pursue them, nor
birds of prey to tear them to pieces,—a miserable treatment
for these poor foolish creatures!
I would tell you, then, that this gentleman (of whom it
is enough to know the name) happened to be in Hippolyta's
house at the very time that the Jew and Periander entered
it. Hippolyta took him aside and said to him, "Go, my
friend, and take with thee this chain of gold which has been
sent me by the pilgrim; it was brought me by Zabulon
this morning."
"Look well what you are about, Hippolyta," said Pyrrhus,
"for, as I conjecture, this pilgrim is a Spaniard, and
a chain of gold sent from his hand, worth at least a hundred
crowns, without having even touched yours, seems much
to me, and a thousand fears alarm me."
"Do thou, O Pyrrhus," said she, "take away the chain,
and leave it to me to support the weight, and not to give
it back in spite of thy Spanish manners."
Pyrrhus took the chain which Hippolyta gave him, and
which she had brought expressly for this purpose that morning,
and stopping his mouth with it, she got him out of the
house. Then, free and disembarrassed from all restraint,
she hastened to meet Periander, and, with a sort of easy
gracefulness, she threw her arms about his neck, saying,
"Truly glad shall I be to see whether Spaniards are as
brave as fame reports."
When Periander saw this freedom of manner, he thought
the whole house was upside down, and repulsing Hippolyta
with his hand, he put her away and said to her, "The
dress I wear, O Lady Hippolyta, forbids all profanation,
at least I can permit none of any sort, and pilgrims, even
if they are Spaniards, are not obliged to show their valour
unnecessarily: but prove to me, lady, in what way I can
show my courage without prejudice to either of us, and I
will obey you without a word more."
"It seems to me, Sir Pilgrim," answered Hippolyta,
"that you are as valiant in mind as in body; but since you
say you will obey my bidding, if it be not to the hurt of
either of us, enter this room with me, for I wish to show
you a gallery and dressing closet of mine;" to which
Periander replied, "Spaniard though I be, yet I am very
fearful, and more have I to fear from you alone, than from
a whole regiment of enemies. Let some one serve as a guide,
and I will go with you where you please."
Hippolyta called two of her maids and Zabulon the Jew,
who were present, and ordered them to lead the way to the
gallery and to throw open the saloon, which, as Periander
afterwards said, was the most splendidly adorned apartment
any prince on earth could possess. Parrhasius, Polygnotus,
Apelles, Zeuxis, and Terriantes, some of the most perfect
of their productions bought with the treasures of Hippolyta,
might there be seen, and there too were the works of the
devout Raphael de Urbino, and those of the divine Michael
Angelo, riches such as only great princes can and ought to
show. Royal buildings, superb palaces, magnificent temples,
and exquisite paintings are fit and true signs of the rich
and the great. They are, indeed, pledges, against which
time hurries on and quickens his flight, as if they, his rivals,
are showing in spite of him the magnificence of past ages.
O Hippolyta! good only for this, if among all the pictures
thou dost possess, there was but one of thy own good
conduct, and that thou wouldst leave Periander his, who
amazed, confused and astonished, walked on, gazing at the
abundance of sights which this gallery contained. From
one end to the other was heard the music of many different
sorts of birds, which, in splendid cages, filled the air with
a mixed but pleasing melody. It seemed to verify whatever
he had heard tell of the gardens of the Hesperides, of
the Fairy Falerina, of the famous hanging gardens, or of any
of the other celebrated wonders ever known in the world,
none of which came up to the decorations of this gallery
and hall; but as he went about with a disturbed and amazed
spirit, wearied with the sight of so much pleasure and luxury,
and troubled to find everything so contrary to his taste;
setting courtesy aside, he endeavoured to leave the apartment,
and would have gone away if Hippolyta had not
prevented him, in such a manner that he was obliged to
use some rather discourteous words. She laid hold of his
pilgrim's gown, and the doublet being opened thereby, discovered
the diamond cross, which until then had escaped
so many perils, and dazzled the eyes as well as the mind
of Hippolyta. She, finding that he was determined to go,
in spite of her gentle force, proceeded to show her intentions
of detaining him still more plainly; but Periander by
no means approving this, made his escape, flying from the
danger and leaving his gown in the hands of this new
Egyptian. He gained the street without hat, staff, belt or
gown, for the best mode of coming off victor in such combats
is flight. She immediately opened the window and
began calling out loudly to the people in the street, crying,
"Seize that robber who, entering my house under a peaceful
guise, has stolen from me a precious treasure worth a
whole city."
There happened to be two of the pope's guards in the
street, who thinking they had taken him in the very act,
hearing the cry of "robbers," seized Periander and tore the
cross from his breast,—a treatment which justice uses with
new offenders, although the crime may not be proved.
Periander, on finding himself thus crossed,[T] spoke to
the Germans in their own language, and said, he was no
thief but a person of consequence, and that the cross was
his own; that they might see by its richness it could not
be Hippolyta's, and he asked to be taken before the Governor;
where he hoped shortly to prove the truth of the
matter. He offered them money, and with that, and with
having spoken in their own tongue, which will always gain
the heart even of those who know you not, the Germans
paid no attention to Hippolyta, and so carried Periander
before the Governor.
On seeing this she left the window, and, almost ready to
scratch her own eyes out, she said to her servants, "Ah!
what folly is this that I have done! I have vexed him I
meant to honour; I have offended where I wished to serve.
He is taken as a thief; he who has stolen my heart. What
kind of caresses are these? what kindness? to attack his liberty,
and to defame his honour." And then she told them
how he had been carried off by two of the pope's guards,
and ordered her coach to be got ready directly, that she
might follow and exculpate him, for her heart could not bear
to wound one who was the very apple of her eye; and she
preferred appearing as one who had accused falsely, rather
than be cruel, for there was no excuse for cruelty, though
for the false accusation there might be pleaded the force of
love, which so often causes a thousand follies, and offends
even those it loves best.
When she arrived at the governor's house, she found him
with the cross in his hands, examining Periander on the
matter, who, seeing Hippolyta, said to the governor, "This
lady who is just come in, has said that the cross now in
your lordship's hands is hers, and was stolen from her by
me: I will acknowledge this is the fact when she has declared
of what the cross is made, what is its value, and how
many diamonds compose it; for unless the angels or some
spirit has revealed it to her, she cannot know, for she never
saw it but in my bosom, and once only."
"What says the lady Hippolyta to this?" said the governor,
so covering the cross that she could not see it.
She answered, "I say that I am in love—blindly and
madly in love—and the pilgrim is exculpated, and I await
the sentence which my lord the governor thinks due for my
crime." And she related the whole of what had passed between
her and Periander, which made the governor perfectly
amazed, more at the boldness of her conduct than at
her love, for such sudden passions are common with ladies
of her class. He dismissed the case, and entreated Periander's
pardon; pronounced him at liberty, and restored his
cross to him, without a line having been written about the
case,—no small piece of good luck.
The governor wished to know who were the pilgrims
that had offered the jewels in pledge for Auristella's picture,
and moreover, who she and he were; to which Periander
answered, "The portrait is that of my sister Auristella;
those two pilgrims could easily have offered far
more costly jewels. This cross is mine, and when the proper
time comes, and necessity forces me to do it, I shall say who
I am, but at present neither I nor my sister wish to declare
this. The picture which is now in your lordship's possession
is mine. I bought it from the painter at a suitable price,
without any of those extravagant outbiddings, which are
founded more on rancour and fancy than on reason."
The governor said that he would gladly keep it himself,
to add to the pictures in Rome one more admirable than
any she now possessed.
"I will give it to your lordship," said Periander; "for
it seems to me that it will be duly honoured by giving it
such an owner." The governor thanked him, and that day
he restored Arnoldo and the duke to their liberty, and gave
them back their jewels, he himself keeping the picture, for
it was quite reasonable that it should belong to somebody.
Arnoldo gives an account of all that had happened since he
parted with Periander and Auristella in the Isle of
Hermits.
Hippolyta returned home more full of confusion
than repentance, thoughtful, and more
enamoured than ever, for although it is a fact,
generally speaking, that disdain kills love in
its first beginning, yet Periander's only added
fuel to the flame that consumed her. She thought it impossible
that a pilgrim could possess a heart of marble, and
not soften with the gifts and kindnesses she intended to load
him with: but in her heart she said to herself, if this pilgrim
was poor he would not wear so rich a cross, the diamonds of
which clearly denote his wealth, so that the fortress cannot
be attacked on that side. Measures more bold and dexterous
must be employed to subdue him. Is it not possible
that his heart is elsewhere engaged? Is it not possible that
this Auristella may not be his sister? Is it not possible that
the force of the disdain he shows me may have its origin, and
be set down to Auristella? By Heaven, if it be so, I have
found my remedy. Auristella shall die,—we will discover
this witchcraft, at least we shall see the true sentiments of
his heart. It shall be carried immediately into effect; Auristella
shall grow sick; we will take away the light of Periander's
eyes; we will see if, when her beauty fades, that
first cause of love, the love itself will fade also. It may be
that when he sees I possess what she has lost, he may leave
her, and yield to my tenderness; at least I will try this;
there is no harm in trying anything that may lead to the
right track.
Somewhat comforted by these reflections, she arrived at
her own house, where she found Zabulon, to whom she
confided her intentions, knowing that he had a wife who was
noted as the most skilful witch in Rome, and she asked him
(after first loading him with gifts, and the promise of more)
to assist her, not in changing Periander's inclinations, since
she knew that was hopeless, but in depriving Auristella of
health, and if necessary, of life also.
Zabulon said, it would be an easy matter for a woman
who possessed the skill and knowledge of his wife to effect
this. He received, as the first payment, a large sum of money,
and promised that Auristella's health should begin to fail on
the following day. Hippolyta not only rewarded Zabulon,
but threatened him besides; and threats and gifts together,
would make a Jew perform impossibilities.
Periander told his friends and Auristella the history of
his imprisonment and Hippolyta's love, and the present he
had made the governor of Auristella's portrait. Auristella
felt far from pleased to hear about Hippolyta's love, for she
had heard of her being considered one of the most beautiful
women in Rome, one of the freest manners, one of the
richest, and one of the cleverest. To a jealous spirit, fear
will represent the goblin it has conjured up, as bigger than
Mount Olympus, although, in fact, it may be smaller than
a fly; and when the tongue is restrained by decorum and
modesty, so as to repress all complaint, the heart torments
itself within the bonds of silence, till soul and body are almost
ready to part. As I have before observed, there is no
other remedy for jealousy but to listen to exculpation, and
when this is not permitted there is no comfort in life, and
life itself Auristella would lose a thousand times, before she
would utter one complaint touching the fidelity of Periander.
That same evening Arnoldo paid the ladies a visit, and
gave them an account of everything that had happened since
they left him, and, on his return to search for them, he told
how he had gone to the Hermit's Isle, where he did not
find Rutilio, but another hermit in his place, who informed
him that Rutilio was gone to Rome. He told, too, how
he had gone to the island of the fishermen, and found them
free, happy, and contented, both the newly-married couples
and the others who had embarked with Periander. He told
how he had heard it reported that Polycarpa was dead, and
Sinforosa had resolved never to marry. Then he told about
the Barbarous Isle, that it had been re-peopled, and its inhabitants
were still confirmed in their belief of the false
prophecy. He had heard that Maurice and Ladislaus, his
son-in-law, with Transila, his daughter, had left their own
country, and gone to live peacefully in England: then he
related how he had been with Leopold, the king of Norway,
after the war was ended; that he had married in order
to have a successor to his kingdom, and that he had pardoned
the two traitors whom he had taken prisoners when
Periander and his fishermen fell in with his ship, and that
he was very grateful for the courteous treatment he had
received at their hands, and, amongst the names he mentioned
in these details, sometimes the names of Periander's
parents occurred, and sometimes those of Auristella,
which made their hearts beat, and brought to their remembrance
alike their grandeur and their misfortunes. He said,
that in Portugal, and especially in Lisbon, their portraits
were much valued. He spoke of the great fame of Constance's
beauty in those parts of France she had travelled
in, and also of the French ladies. He had heard, too,
of Croriano, and the high character he had gained as
noble, generous, and wise, in having taken the charming
Ruperta to wife. In Lucca, he had heard the clever contrivance
of Isabel Castrucho much talked about, and her
quick falling in love with Andrew Marulo, and how, by
feigning to be a demoniac, she had gained, as she believed,
an angel's lot. He had heard of Periander's fall, which was
considered a miracle, and had met on the road a young pilgrim,
a poet, who did not wish to come on with him, but
was taking his time and composing a play upon the adventures
of Periander and Auristella, which he knew by heart,
having seen a picture in Portugal, where it was all painted,
and that he was firmly resolved to marry Auristella, if she
pleased.
Auristella declared herself grateful for his kind intentions,
and said she would give him a suit of clothes, should he
require it, and if by chance his should be ragged, for the
kind wish of a good poet deserves reward.
Arnoldo further told them that he had been at the house
of Antonio and Constance's parents, who were well, only
uneasy in their minds at knowing nothing about the health
or safety of their children, and longing for their return, and
that they wished for Constance to become the wife of the
late count's brother, her brother-in-law, who wanted to follow
his brother's example and imitate his choice of a wife,
either because he did not like to give her the twenty thousand
ducats, or because of her own merits, which he thought
was most likely.
This news rejoiced them much, especially Periander and
Auristella, who loved Constance like a sister.
In the minds of all the hearers of this discourse fresh
suspicions arose as to the high rank of the pilgrims. They
heard now about counts and ducats, and thought the persons
who belonged thereunto must needs be illustrious.
Among other things, Arnoldo mentioned having met Renato
in France, the gentleman who had been vanquished in
single combat against the right, and afterwards proved to
have been wrongfully accused by the conscience of his enemy
being awakened. In fact, but few things remained to be
mentioned of the many persons whose history has been related;
he brought forward everything, up to the picture of
Auristella, which Periander had retained greatly against his
inclination and that of the duke, though, not to offend Periander,
Arnoldo concealed his displeasure.
"I should have returned it to you, my Lord Arnoldo,"
said Periander, "if I had understood that it was yours.
Accident, and his own exertions, gave it to the duke, from
whom you took it by force, and therefore have no right to
complain. A man in love must not judge his cause through
the medium of his wishes, which sometimes cannot satisfy
him and reason; however, I will do what I hope will please
and content both you and the duke: the picture shall remain
in the hands of my sister Auristella, for it belongs
more to her than any one else."
This decision satisfied Arnoldo, and also Auristella, and
here the conversation ended. On the following day early,
the witchcraft, venoms and incantations of the malignant
Jewess began their work.
CHAPTER IX.
In which is related the Sickness of Auristella through the
Witchcraft of the Jewess, Zabulon's Wife.
Disease durst not at once, attack face to face
Auristella's beauty, afraid lest its hideousness
should be alarmed at so much loveliness, and
so it began by the limbs. She was seized
with shiverings at dawn, which prevented
her from rising as usual; these were followed by a loss of
appetite; next, the brilliance of her eyes became clouded
and dull; and dismay at such sudden illness filled the hearts
both of Constance and Periander, who immediately apprehended
the worst result.
She had not been taken ill two hours, and already the
bright roses of her cheeks were of a livid purple, the carmine
of her sweet lips was changed to green, and the pearl-like
teeth became the colour of topazes, her very hair had
altered its colour, her hands stiffened, and her whole countenance
changed. Nevertheless, she was still beautiful to
them who saw her, not as she was now in her bed, but in
their hearts, where her image lay.
Her voice, in a day or two after, could just reach their
ears in feeble accents half uttered.
The French ladies joined in assisting Constance to tend
and nurse her, and so great was the attention they paid,
that at last they required it for themselves.
Physicians were sent for, the best that could be got, at
least those who were most noted for skill, for a good opinion
helps the proper medicine, and thus we as often meet
with lucky doctors as fortunate soldiers—good luck and good
fortune are one and the same thing—and one may find it as
well in a bag of sackcloth as in a closet full of silver. But
neither in silver nor in sackcloth did any find its way to
Auristella, which drove Constance and Antonio to despair.
Not so was it with the duke; his love had been engendered
solely by the great beauty of Auristella, and thus, when that
beauty was fled, his love also fled with it, which must be
deeply rooted in the heart to be strong enough to follow the
beloved one even to the brink of the grave. Death is very
hideous, disease is near akin to it, and to love what is ugly
seems something unnatural, and worthy to be called a miracle.
Auristella faded away from hour to hour. Those about
her had given up all hope; Periander alone, firm and loving
as ever, with a brave and trusting spirit, faced adverse fortune
and even death itself, which threatened him, in losing
Auristella.
Fifteen days did the Duke de Nemours wait in hopes of
seeing her get better, during which time everybody was
continually questioning the physicians about her health, but
none could speak with certainty, seeing that none knew
the cause of her illness.
The duke finding that the angel of light he had adored
had changed into one of darkness, feigned a tale which
might form an excuse for his conduct, at least in some degree;
and one day he came to Auristella's sick bed, with
Periander present, and thus spoke:—
"Since fortune has proved adverse to my hopes, O beauteous
lady! and will not permit me to indulge the desire I
had of calling you my wife, before despair reduces me to
such a condition as to threaten the loss of reason, (as it has
well nigh taken my life,) I purpose to try my fortune elsewhere—for
I know well that I have nothing to hope or expect
here—although I should continue to try for it, and
thus it might happen that I die miserably. I am summoned
home by my mother: she has a wife in view for me;
I wish to obey her. But when death assails me, there
will be found engraven on my heart the memory of thy
beauty and thy illness,—would to God I may not have to
say of thy death!"
His eyes were moist, and he dropped a few tears. Auristella
could not answer him, or perhaps did not wish to do
so in Periander's presence: the utmost she did was to put
her hand under the pillow and draw forth her picture,
which she returned to the duke. He kissed her hand for
so precious a gift; but Periander stretching out his, took it
and said, "If it does not displease you, noble sir, and if
you will be so kind as to permit it, I entreat you to lend it
me that I may accomplish a promise I have given, which,
without prejudice to you, will do me great harm if I accomplish
it not."
The duke resigned it with fresh protestations of being
ready to give up fortune, life, and honour itself for it, and
more if he had it to offer; and from this time he separated
himself from the brother and sister, meaning to see them
no more in Rome—a prudent lover, and not the first perhaps
who has known how to seize an opportunity that offers
itself to him.
All these things might have awakened Arnoldo to the
perception of how much his hopes had diminished, and
what danger he was in of losing the object of all his pilgrimages;
and, in fact, he was quite inclined to accompany
the duke, if not in his journey, at least in his intentions,
and would have returned to Denmark, but love and his
own generous heart forbade his doing this—leaving Periander
when he needed consolation, and Auristella at the
point of death.
He visited her and renewed his proposals, determined to
wait in hopes of better prospects, in spite of all the suspicions
that oppressed him.
CHAPTER X.
Auristella recovers her Health, because the Jewess leaves
off her Sorceries, and makes a proposal to Periander that
they shall not marry.
Well pleased was Hippolyta to see what the
arts of the Jewess had done in endangering
the life of Auristella, for in a week she had
become so entirely changed from what she
was, as to be only recognizable by the sound
of her voice,—a thing which surprised her physicians, and
defied their skill. It was the wonder of all who saw her.
The French ladies assisted in nursing her with as much care
as if she had been their sister, especially Felicia Flora, who
loved her with the warmest affection.
At length the illness of Auristella instead of being confined
to herself alone, began to affect those who attended
her, and as none were so constantly with her as Periander,
he was the first who suffered, not because the poisons and
witcheries of the wicked Jewess worked directly upon
him, but because the grief and sorrow he felt to see her
condition, reduced him nearly to a similar state, and thus
he fell away so much, that those who were about him began
to fear for his life as well as hers.
Hippolyta seeing this, and seeing that her vile practices
were turning against herself, guessed at once from whence
the sickness of Periander had arisen, and tried to find a
remedy by giving one to Auristella, who, reduced to a
shadow, livid and ghastly, seemed hovering on the very
verge of death, and every moment expecting that its gates
would open to receive her, desired to prepare the way for
her soul's departure by receiving the sacrament as she had
been instructed in the Catholic faith, and therefore taking
the proper steps with the utmost devotion in her power,
she gave tokens of her good and virtuous way of thinking,
and proved the purity of her manners and heart. She showed
that she had learned thoroughly the lessons she had been
taught since she came to Rome, and resigning herself to God's
will, she felt calm and composed in spirit, and forgot kingdoms,
thrones, and grandeurs.
Hippolyta then, having as I before said, seen, that if Auristella
died, Periander would die too, hastened to the Jewess
to desire that she would moderate the spell which was consuming
Auristella's life, or cease the charm altogether, for
she did not wish to be the cause of destroying three lives
with one blow, since Auristella dying, Periander would die,
and Periander dying, she also would lose her life. The
Jewess obeyed, as if the health or sickness of others was in
her power, as if all the evils we meet with as chastisement,
did not depend on God's will; but God, as a punishment
for our own sins, permits the agency of what is called witchcraft,
in destroying health, by the use of poisons and mixtures,
which in process of time take away life from those
they wish to kill, without any remedy to escape the danger,
because the cause remains unknown, and no one can guess
the reason of such mortal sickness, and so for the cure of
such great evils, God's mercy is the only medicine.
Auristella began to leave off growing worse, which was
a sign she was beginning to be better. The sun of her
beauty began to glimmer, and give signs that it would once
more dawn upon the heaven of her countenance. Once
more the roses returned to bloom upon her cheeks, and in
her eyes again shone the light of gladness, dispersing the
clouds of melancholy. The sweetness of her voice returned;
her lips resumed their carmine hue; her teeth, which had
seemed like marble, now were pearls again as before; and
in a short space of time she appeared all beautiful, lovely
and charming as ever, and the good effects of this quickly
told upon Periander and the rest, Croriano and Ruperta,
Antonio and Constance; the latter, especially in joy or sorrow,
always went along with Auristella.
She, giving thanks to Heaven for the mercies she had received,
both in sickness and in health, one day called Periander,
and having taken care to be alone, she spoke to him
in the following manner:—
"My brother! since it has pleased Heaven that I should
now for two years have called you by that sweet and endearing
name, without ever stepping beyond the bounds of
modesty and decorum; I could wish that this happy bond
should still continue, and life alone should end it, instead of
looking forward to any other tie; for a happiness is good
when it is lasting, and it is lasting when it is pure. Our
souls, as you well know, and as you have always taught me,
are for ever moving onward, and have no other end and aim
but to be with God, who is their centre; our desires in this
life are infinite, and linked together they form a chain,
which sometimes reaches Heaven, and sometimes leads to
hell. If it seems to you, my brother, that this mode of talking
is not like myself, and that I am outstepping that which
should be expected from my youth and early education, recollect
that experience has written much upon the blank
paper of my mind. Chiefly I have learned that our greatest
joy is to know and be with God, and that all the means
whereby we can reach this end, are good, holy, and pleasant.
Such are the ways of charity, modesty, and chastity, and
if I think this, you will think the same; and thinking thus
together, I believe that the love you bear me is so great that
you will wish what I wish. I am the heiress of a kingdom,
and you know well the reason why I was sent by my
dear mother to your father's court, in order that I might be
safe from the dangers of war, which threatened my country.
Hence resulted my coming here with you, and being obedient
to your will, in which I have never once failed in the
least degree. You have been to me father and brother;
you have been my shelter, my protector, and finally, my
guardian angel. You have been my teacher and my master,
since you brought me to this city, where I have learned
to be a true Christian, and now I would fain, if possible, go
to Heaven without delays, alarms, or anxieties; and that
cannot be, unless you release me from the promise I myself
have given to you, the promise and the wish to become your
wife. Give me back, my lord, the promise, and I will try
to lose the wish, even though it should be by forcible means;
for in order to attain so great a gift as Heaven, one must
leave all one loves best on earth, even one's parents, and
one's husband or wife. I leave you for no other: He for
whom I leave you is God, who will reward you himself,
which reward far exceeds what you lose in losing me. I
have a younger sister quite as beautiful as I am, if we can
call anything that is mortal beautiful; you may marry her
and succeed to the crown, which is my right, and thus
while you are yielding to my wishes you will not be cheated
of your own. Why hangs your head, my brother? ah! why
do your eyes seek the ground? Does my discourse displease
you? do my wishes seem to you unreasonable? Tell me;
answer me, at least let me know your will; possibly I may
try to moderate mine, and find out some way more to your
liking, and which will agree with mine."
Periander had listened to every word Auristella said in
the most profound silence, a thousand suppositions in one
brief moment rapidly forming in his imagination, all uniting
in picturing the worst that could befall, for he thought that
she abhorred him, as this change of life must put an end to
his, since she could not but know that if she refused to become
his wife, he had no longer anything to live for in this
world: and this idea was so earnestly impressed upon his
mind, that, without answering her a single word, he rose
from his seat, and seeming as if he went to receive Felicia
Flora and Constance and Antonio, who were entering the
apartment, he went out and left Auristella, (I know not
whether I ought to call it,) repenting, but, at all events,
thoughtful, and in some confusion.
CHAPTER XI.
Periander quits Rome in despair at Auristella's Proposal.
Water that is enclosed in a narrow vessel,
whilst it is in the greatest haste to escape,
is slowest to pour out, because the first drops
are detained by those which follow, and one
impedes the other, till the current begins to
rush and all the water breaks forth. So is it with the words
that rush into the mind of a distressed lover, sometimes at
the very tip of his tongue, yet hindered by those which
follow too rapidly for utterance; till scarcely knowing which
first came into his head, he is silent, and by silence he says
more even than he wishes. This was shown in the small
courtesy Periander displayed towards the visitors that he met
entering Auristella's apartment. He, full of thoughts and
fancies, and oppressed with the imaginations that crowded
into his mind, disdained and deceived, as he thought himself,
went out of Auristella's presence without knowing how,
or wishing, or being able to reply to the long discourse she
had held to him.
Antonio and his sister went to her, and found her like
one awakening from a heavy dream, and speaking distinctly
aloud to herself in such words as these:—
"Have I done wrong? But what does it signify? Is it
not better he should know my intentions? Is it not better
I should timely leave the crooked paths and dubious ways,
and take the straight road by the shortest cut, that which
clearly and distinctly shows us the happy end of our journey?
I own that Periander's company would not hinder me from
going to Heaven, but also I feel that I should reach it
quicker without him. I owe more to myself than to another;
if to the interests of Heaven and eternal glory, those
of earth and earthly ties should yield, how much more should
mine when I have no relationship with Periander."
"I must warn you, sister Auristella," here interposed
Constance, "that you are giving us an idea of things which
may awaken our suspicions, and bring you to confusion. If
Periander is not your brother, you have been holding a very
long conversation with him, and, if he is, why should you
deem his company any cause for scandal?"
By this time Auristella had a little recovered herself, and
hearing what Constance said, she tried to make amends for
her want of caution, but did not succeed, for it is a difficult
matter to mend an untruth, and always leaves some doubts
behind.
"I know not, my sister," said Auristella, "what I have
said; I know not whether Periander is my brother or not;
all I know is, that he is at least as dear as my own soul;
I live, I breathe only in him, in him I move, and by him
I am supported, always restraining myself within proper
bounds, without giving room for any other thoughts, and
keeping a due decorum of manners, such as a woman of
high birth ought to show to a brother as high-born."
"I understand you not, Lady Auristella," here said Antonio,
"for, in your discourse, you sometimes speak of Periander
as your brother, and sometimes not; tell us who he
is, and who you are, if you can tell it? For, whether he
is your brother or no, at least you cannot deny that you
are of high birth; and we (I speak of myself and my sister
Constance) are not so inexperienced as to be astonished at
anything you can relate; for, since we left the Barbarous Isle,
the troubles and perils that we have seen and passed through
have taught us a great deal, and, by a very small sign, we
can discover the thread of the most difficult affairs, especially
those of love, for it appears that they bring their own
explanation with them. What if Periander should not be
your brother, what if you are his lawful wife? And, again,
is it not much that you have conducted yourselves with such
modesty and purity of manners in the sight of Heaven, and
of all who have been in your company? Love is not always
rash and inconsiderate, nor are all lovers influenced
by mere sensual feelings, but by the charm of the heart and
mind; and it being thus, dear lady, again I entreat that you
will tell us who you are and who is Periander, who seemed,
as he passed us just now, to carry away a volcano in his
eyes and a gag in his mouth."
"Alas! unhappy that I am," replied Auristella, "and
far better it would have been that I had kept eternal silence,
for silence would have saved him from that gag of which
you speak. Women are indiscreet, imprudent, and impatient,
and cannot hold their tongues. Whilst I was silent
my soul was peaceful, I spoke, and my peace is gone; and
now that I may lose it entirely, and so end the tragedy of
my life, I will tell you (who have been sent by Heaven to
be indeed a brother and a sister to me) that Periander is
not my brother, neither is he my husband, nor yet my lover,
at least, according to the common acceptation of the word.
He is not one of those lovers who seek to dishonour the
woman they love.—He is a king's son, I am a king's daughter,
and the heiress of a kingdom. We are equal in blood. I
have some advantage over him in my situation, in my inclinations
none, and, withal, our wishes are the same, and
our affections are honourably given to one another, only the
thing which confounds and disturbs our intentions, and
which forces us to wait, and places a restraint upon Periander,
and distresses me, is what I cannot tell you now,
my friends; but I beseech you aid me to seek him out, for
since he has taken the liberty of going without my leave,
he will not return unsought."
"Then," said Constance, "get up quickly, and let us
go in search of him directly, for the cords which bind lovers
do not allow of their going away very far from the beloved
one. Come, we shall quickly find him. Soon you will
see him, and yet sooner you will satisfy him; you will
forget the scruples with which you have been surrounded,
and give Periander your hand as his espoused wife, thereby
putting an end to all calumny and evil report."
Auristella rose up, and accompanied by Felicia Flora,
Constance and Antonio, went out in search of Periander.
They who now knew her to be a princess, looked upon
her with redoubled reverence, and treated her with more
respect.
Periander, meanwhile, whom they were seeking, had
tried to go far away from all who might go in search of him.
He left Rome on foot, and alone—unless his utter disconsolateness
and his sorrow may be considered as company.
His melancholy thoughts and ever varying imaginations
never left him. "Alas!" said he to himself, "Most
beautiful Sigismunda, queen by nature and beautiful by the
bounteous gift of the same Nature, superhumanly prudent,
and surpassingly charming! little did it cost thee to consider
me as a brother, since never in word or thought did I
belie the name—not even malice itself could affirm that I
did. If it be thy wish to go to heaven alone in thy maiden
pride, without dependence upon any other but thy God and
thyself, do so, in God's name! Yet I warn thee—think
not that thou wilt be sinless, or that thou canst act thus
without being guilty of my death. Thou hast left me,
lady, loaded and oppressed with the weight of silence, and
thy falseness! Wherefore didst thou not declare this earlier,
when it would not have been tearing my heart from
my body to give up my love for thee? It was all thine:
I gave up to thee my entire will, and thou hast cast me out.
Rest in peace, my beloved, and know that all I can do I
have done, in leaving thee."
Night came on, and diverging a little from the high road,
which was that which led to Naples, he heard the murmuring
sound of a stream which ran amongst some trees,
and throwing himself down upon its margin, he ceased his
complaints, but his sighs and tears were ceaseless.
CHAPTER XII.
Wherein it is related who Periander and Auristella are.
Good and evil seem to be so inseparable,
that like two lines which form an angle, although
they spring from different beginnings,
yet both end in the same point.
Periander lay beside the tranquil stream;
the clear and beautiful night and the murmuring waters
were soothing companions: the trees too were company
to him, and a fresh and gentle breeze dried his tears. He
forgot his woes for the moment, and Auristella and the hope
of finding a remedy for his sorrows, he dismissed to the
winds—when suddenly a sound reached his ears; it was
of a strange voice, but it caught his attention, for he heard
the well-known accents of his native language, without being
able to distinguish whether it was muttering or singing.
Curiosity made him move nearer, and then he found that
the voices proceeded from two persons, and that they were
neither singing nor muttering, but engaged in deep conversation.
What most surprised him was, that they talked
in the Norwegian tongue at so great a distance from that
country.
He concealed himself behind a tree in such a manner that
the tree's shadow and his own were mingled in one. He
collected his breath, and the first words that met his ears
were, "You have not to tell me, sir, that the whole year
in Norway is divided into two parts, for I have been there
myself some time—where my misfortunes carried me—and
I know that half the year it is night, and the other half
day: I know that it is so; but why it is so, I am ignorant."
To which the other answered, "If we reach Rome, I will
point out to you upon a globe the cause of this wonderful
fact, as natural in that country as it is in this, for day and
night to be four-and-twenty hours long. I have also told
you that near the most northern part of Norway, almost
under the Arctic Pole, lies the island which is supposed to
be the furthest end of the known world, at least of these
northern parts. Its name was Tile (Note 12), or as it is
called by Virgil Thulé, in those lines that you will find in
the Georgics, Book I:—
Ac tua nautæ
Numina sola colant: tibi serviat ultima Thulé.
"For Tile in Greek is the same as Thulé in Latin. This
island is nearly as large as England, rich and abundant
in all things necessary for human life; still higher up is
the island called Friseland, which was four hundred years
undiscovered by any one. It is so large that it is called a
kingdom, and not a very small one. The king of Tile is
Maximin, son of Queen Eustochia, whose father died not
many months ago, and left two sons, one of whom is this
Maximin, of whom I spoke, the heir to his crown, and the
other a noble youth, called Persiles, rich in the gifts of nature
beyond all description, and beloved by his mother beyond
all expression. How to praise the virtues of Persiles
sufficiently I know not, and therefore I will not attempt it
for fear my feeble efforts should impair their greatness; although
the affection I have for him, having been his tutor
from childhood, is such that I might rather be led to say
too much, so it is best to be silent on that point."
Periander, who heard all this, immediately knew that he
who praised him could be no other than Serafido, his tutor;
and also in the other, who was listening to him, he recognized
Rutilio by his voice, as he made answers from time
to time. Whether or not he was astonished at this, I leave
to your good consideration, and more still when Serafido
(for he it was,) said,—
"Eusebia, the queen of Friseland, had two daughters of
exceeding great beauty, particularly the eldest, whose name
is Sigismunda (the youngest is called Eusebia, after her mother).
Nature had bestowed beauty on them all. The
queen, with what design I know not, taking the opportunity
of a war with which she was threatened, sent Sigismunda
to Tile, to the care of Eustochia, to be brought up
at that court, safe from the dangers of war, she said; but
I myself believe that this was not the chief reason for sending
her away, but that the Prince Maximin might fall in
love with her, and make her his wife, which it was natural
to suppose might happen from her extreme beauty, enough
to melt a heart of marble, at least, if this suspicion of mine
was a right one, for I cannot affirm that it was from experience.
I know that Prince Maximin is dying for Sigismunda,
but he was not in the island at the time she arrived
at Tile; his mother sent him the picture of the lady, and
told him of the embassy of the queen of Friseland, and his
answer was, that she should be very kindly treated, and that
he would marry her. This answer was like an arrow shot
through the heart of my son Persiles (for by this tender name
I called him, having brought him up). From the moment
he heard of it, he could get nothing to please him; he lost
the vivacity of youth, and one heard no more of the gallant
deeds by which he won the admiration and love of
every one.
"Above all, he began to lose his health and give way to
despair; the physicians, who were sent for, could make
nothing of his ailment, for they were ignorant of its cause.
The state of the pulse does not show the grief of the heart,
and it is difficult and nearly impossible to comprehend the
ailments which spring from that source. The mother, seeing
her son dying, without being able to discover what was
killing him, asked him again and again to reveal the cause
of his suffering, since it was impossible that he should be
ignorant of it himself, as he felt the effects: so powerful were
the persuasions, so great the solicitude of the afflicted mother,
that she conquered the obstinacy, or rather the firmness,
of Persiles, and forced him to confess that he was dying
of love for Sigismunda, and that he was determined to die
rather than sin against the duty which he owed his brother.
This declaration restored the queen to life, and she bade
Persiles hope, telling him that a remedy might be found,
and that it would be quite possible to overlook the claims
of Maximin, and greater considerations even than a brother's
anger, might be waved to effect this object. Finally she
went to Sigismunda herself, and told her of her son's wishes,
exaggerating all she should lose if she lost Persiles, a creature
in whom all the graces and all the virtues were united;
whereas Maximin was much the reverse, for the harshness
of his manners made him somewhat unpopular, and she
cried up the merits of Persiles to the highest extent.
"Sigismunda, who was very young, alone, and easily
persuaded, replied that she had no will of her own, nor any
counsellor but her own modesty; and so as she could preserve
it, she left the queen to dispose of her as she pleased.
The queen embraced her, and flew to carry her reply to
Persiles. It was then agreed between them that they should
absent themselves from the island before his brother returned,
and as an excuse for their disappearance, she would
say that they had made a vow to go to Rome, in order to
get properly instructed in the Catholic faith, which was
somewhat impaired in these northern countries, Persiles first
having sworn that he would neither in word nor deed, offend
against her modesty. So, loaded with jewels and advice,
the queen dismissed them, and, when they were gone, she
told me all that I have now related.
"It was two years and rather more before the prince
Maximin returned to his own dominions, for he was engaged
in the war he was continually waging with his
enemies.
"He enquired for Sigismunda, and not finding her was a
great vexation to him. As soon as he heard of the voyage
she had gone upon, he set out in search of her. He had
great confidence in his brother's virtue, but was not without
suspicion, which a lover is never entirely free from. As
his mother knew of his intentions, she called me aside, and
committed to my charge the life, honour and safety of her
younger son, giving me orders to set out in search of him,
and, if possible, to let him know that his brother was gone
to look for him and Sigismunda. The Prince Maximin set
sail with two large ships, and passing through the Straits
of Hercules with various changes of weather and many
storms, he reached at length the Isle of Trinacria, and from
thence the fair city of Parthenope. He was at the present
moment not far from thence, in a place called Terracina,
where he had been taken ill, and had been at the point of
death. I landed at Lisbon, where I obtained news of Persiles
and Sigismunda; for two pilgrims whose beauty was
making a great noise there, could be no other than they, for
unless they are Persiles and Sigismunda, they must be incarnate
angels."
"If their names," answered the listener to whom Serafido
spoke, "were Periander and Auristella, instead of
Persiles and Sigismunda, I could give you certain news of
them, for I was some time in their company, and underwent
with them many perils." He then related the adventures in
the Barbarous Isle with some others.
Meantime day advanced, and Periander, that he might
not be seen there, left them in order to return and give
Auristella notice of his brother's arrival, and to take counsel
with her what was best to be done in order to avoid
his indignation, deeming it a miracle that he should have
gained this information in so retired a spot; and, full of new
thoughts, he went to seek, once more, his penitent Auristella,
and the hopes which he had well nigh lost.
CHAPTER XIII.
Periander returns towards Rome with the News of his Brother
Maximin's Arrival. Serafido his Tutor, and Rutilio
meet with him.
The pain and sensation of a fresh wound is
hardly felt in the moment of anger and hot
blood, which, after it becomes cold, causes
an agony that is almost unendurable to the
sufferer. It is the same with the passions
of the mind; in allowing them time and space to be dwelt
upon, and considered, they will often nearly vex you to
death.
Auristella said all she wanted to Periander, and satisfied
with having declared her desire, she expected its accomplishment,
trusting to the perfect submission of Periander,
who, after as we have already narrated, listening to her in
silence, and by silence only, replying, quitted Rome, and
the events we have related happened to him.
He recognized Rutilio, who told the history of the Barbarous
Isle to his former tutor, Serafido, and added his
suspicions that Auristella and Periander might prove to be
Sigismunda and Persiles. He also said that they were sure
to be found in Rome, and that from the first beginning of
his acquaintance, he had seen that they were travelling on
some secret business, and were only pretending to be brother
and sister. He then questioned Serafido abundantly
upon the condition and manners of the inhabitants of those
distant isles, of which Maximin and the peerless Auristella
were sovereigns; and Serafido again repeated how this island
of Tile or Thulé, which is now vulgarly called Iceland,
was the most northerly of all the islands in those seas, the
other being a little further south, which, as he before said,
was called Friseland, and which Nicholas Temo (Note 13),
a Venetian, discovered in the year one thousand three
hundred and eighty. It was as large as Sicily, and, until
then, unknown by the ancients. Eusebia is its queen, the
mother of Sigismunda, whom I seek. There is yet another
island nearly as important, and almost always covered with
snow, called Greenland, at one corner of which there is a
monastery, founded under the name of St. Thomas (Note 14),
and where there are monks of four nations, Spaniards,
French, Latin, and Tuscan. They teach their different
tongues to the principal people of the island, that when
they leave it, they may be understood wherever they go.
As I said before, the island is buried in snow; and at the
top of a small mountain there is a fountain, a great wonder,
and worthy to be known: it throws out and pours forth a
quantity of water of such heat, that when it reaches the sea
and mingles with its waves, it not only thaws the frozen
water, but warms it so that in that part an incredible variety
of fishes are found, which fish form the chief sustenance
of the monastery and the island in general, which
derives thence her revenues and profits (Note 15). This
fountain also engenders stones of a glutinous quality, of
which an adhesive cement is made, with which they build
houses, as if they were of the hardest marble.
"Other things I could tell you," said Serafido to Rutilio,
"of these isles, which you would scarcely believe,
and yet which are quite true."
All this Periander did not hear. Rutilio told it to him
afterwards, and he believed the truth of all that he related,
from his own knowledge of so many of the facts stated.
The day was now come, and Periander had just reached
that magnificent temple and church, almost the largest in
Europe, of St. Peter, when he saw coming towards him a
little troop of persons on horseback and on foot; and as they
came near he knew them to be Auristella, Felicia Flora,
Constance, and Antonio, and also Hippolyta, who, having
heard of Periander's disappearance, would not leave the
pleasure of finding him to others, and so followed Auristella,
taking the road pointed out by the Jewess, Zabulon's
wife, much like one who is friendly with the evil one.
The fair squadron came up to Periander, who saluted Auristella,
and looking closely at her, he fancied that her countenance
was more gentle in its expression, and her eyes milder.
He told them directly all that he had heard the night before
between his old tutor and Rutilio, and how his brother,
Prince Maximin, was at Terracina, laid up with an illness
there; and how he intended coming to Rome to be cured,
and with a feigned name, and concealing his rank, to search
for them.
He then asked advice from Auristella and the others, as
to what he should do, for he could not expect a very gentle
reception from his brother.
Auristella was thunderstruck at the unexpected tidings,
and in an instant vanished alike the hopes of preserving her
maiden freedom, and of retaining the company of her loved
Periander.
As for the rest of the party they were all busy thinking
what advice it would be best to give Periander. The first
who offered any was the rich and enamoured Hippolyta.
She proposed to take Periander and his sister with her to
Naples, and spend her hundred thousand and more of
ducats with them there.
The Calabrian Pyrrhus heard this offer, for he was by,
and to him it was like a death-blow; for in a ruffian soul
like his, jealousy is engendered, not by disdain, but self-interest,
and as his would suffer with the loss of Hippolyta,
despair for some moments took possession of him, during
which he treasured up in his heart a mortal hatred against
Periander, whose grace and beauty, great as they were,
seemed magnified yet greater in his eyes, for such is the
natural effect of jealousy.
Periander thanked Hippolyta, but did not accept her
liberal offers. The others had no time to advise anything,
for at this instant Serafido and Rutilio came up, and scarcely
had they both caught sight of Periander than they ran and
threw themselves at his feet, for his change of dress could
not change his graceful figure. Rutilio clasped his waist,
Serafido hung upon his neck, Rutilio wept with delight,
and Serafido with joy and tenderness.
The bystanders watched this extraordinary and happy
meeting with the warmest interest. Pyrrhus alone stood
gloomily apart, his secret fury preying upon his vitals; and
at last, so great was his envy and rage, to see how Periander
was respected and beloved, that, impelled by blind passion,
and hardly knowing what he did, he plunged his sword
into Periander's right shoulder with such force, that the
point came out at his left, taking a slanting direction from
side to side.
Hippolyta was the first who saw the blow given, and
her shriek was first heard crying out, "Ah, traitor! ah,
fatal enemy of my peace, hast thou slain him who deserved
to live for ever?" Serafido opened his arms, Rutilio loosened
his, all bathed in the warm blood of Periander, who sank
into those of Auristella. She had no power to speak, to
breathe, or even to weep. His head fell upon her breast,
and his arms hung down on either side. This sudden stroke,
which then appeared more fatal than it afterwards proved,
filled all those who witnessed it with horror, and left them
pale as death. The great flow of blood was what seemed
to threaten Periander's life, at least Auristella looked as if
it was about to depart. Serafido and Rutilio arrested the
assassin, and in spite of his strength and savage ferocity,
they secured him, and with the help of several persons, who
had by this time come up, he was taken to prison, and the
governor in a few days after sentenced him to the gallows,
as an incorrigible villain and assassin. His death was a
great relief to Hippolyta, who henceforwards felt able to
call her life her own.
CHAPTER XIV.
Maximin appears among them ill of a fever. He dies after
joining the hands of Periander and Auristella, now known
as Persiles and Sigismunda.
So little certainty is there in all earthly joys,
that no man can promise himself a moment
of perfect security. Auristella repenting the
declaration she had made of her wishes and
intentions to Periander, now hastened to seek
him out joyfully, believing that with her hand and her repentance
all would come right, and according to his desire,
for she believed herself to be the key of the wheel of his
fortune, and the Polar star of all his hopes; nor was she
deceived in this, for already had he brought himself to comply
with her will. But mark the cheats of this ever changing
fortune. In one short instant, as we have seen, she finds
herself quite another thing from what she was of late. She
meant to smile, and she weeps; she thought of happy life,
and she is at the point of death; she expected to see Periander,
and lo, in his place, his brother Maximin! who,
with a number of equipages and a large retinue, now approaches,
entering Rome by this, the Terracina road; and
seeing the crowd of persons that surrounded the wounded
Periander, he ordered his carriage to stop, that he might
learn the cause. Serafido went to meet him, saying, "O
Prince Maximin, I bring you evil tidings; yonder wounded
man in the arms of that beautiful lady is your brother Persiles,
and she is the peerless Sigismunda; after all your diligence
you find them in a sad time and season, so that instead
of rejoicings, you will only come to follow them to
their grave."
"They will not go to it alone," answered Maximin;
"but I shall bear them company. Accordingly I am come;"
and, putting his head out of the carriage, he recognized his
brother, although he was all covered with blood. He knew
Sigismunda, too, although her face was pale as death, for
the terror which had deprived it of colour had not altered
the features. Sigismunda was all lovely before, but, if possible,
she looked lovelier still in her sorrow, for, in some
cases, grief only adds to beauty."
He left his carriage, and sunk into the arms of Sigismunda—Auristella
no longer—but the queen of Friseland,
and, in his imagination, queen of Tile also.
These strange events all came under the name of what
is called fortune, which is but another name for the ordering
of a heavenly Providence.
Maximin had set out for Rome, in the hope of finding
better physicians to cure him of his disease than those he
had at Terracina, and they had warned him that before he
could reach Rome, he would be dead, more skilful and
sagacious in this matter than in finding out how to cure him:
it is true that his was an illness seldom cured.
And now before the great cathedral of St. Peter, in the
midst of an open plain, has hideous death stepped forth to
meet the young and beautiful Persiles, and threatens him
with destruction, whilst to Maximin it gives a grave. He,
finding himself near expiring, with his right hand takes Persiles'
left in his own, and lifts it to his eyes, whilst in his
left hand he takes Persiles' right and joins it with Sigismunda,
saying, in a faint and feeble voice, and failing breath,
"Your truth and virtue, my children, and my brother, I
well know: open, O my brother, those closed lids of thine,
and shut these eyes of mine in eternal sleep, and with thy
other hand clasp that of Sigismunda, and seal therewith
my gift and wish that she should be thy wife, and let this
blood that is spilt of thine, and these thy friends who surround
thee, be witnesses of the marriage. Thy father's kingdom
is left for thee, and thou wilt have Sigismunda's also.
May ye both enjoy health and happiness for many years to
come!"
These words, so tender, so joyful, and yet so sorrowful,
revived the fainting spirits of Periander, and, obedient to
his brother's desire (on whom death had set his seal) he
closed his eyes, and, in accents divided between grief and
joy, pronounced the words which bound him for ever to
Sigismunda as her husband.
This unexpected and melancholy event affected the bystanders
strongly, and many of them shed tears, and sighs
and sobs were heard all around.
They lifted up the dead body of Maximin and carried it
into St. Peter's church, and placing Persiles, only half alive,
in the carriage of the dead prince, they returned with him
to Rome, where they found neither Bellarmina nor Delicia,
both of whom had gone back to France with the duke.
Arnoldo was strongly affected when he heard of this unexpected
and strange marriage; he felt deeply how many
years he had wasted in this pursuit, how many deeds he
had done, and actions performed, in the hope of being at
last rewarded by the peaceable possession of Sigismunda's
peerless charms; and that which most vexed and disturbed
his mind, was, to remember all that Clodio had said, which
he would not believe, and of which he had now obtained
such manifest proof. At first, indignant and disturbed, he
determined to set off without speaking a word to either Persiles
or Sigismunda; but, on second thoughts, considering
their royal birth, and the excuse they had, and that this
great piece of good fortune was reserved clearly for Persiles,
he resolved that he would go to them; he did so, and was
very kindly received, and, in order to console him and give
him less cause to complain, they offered him the young
princess Eusebia, Sigismunda's sister, for a wife. He accepted
this offer willingly, and he would have accompanied
them at once to their own country, but that he thought it
right to go and ask his father's leave, since in the affair of
marriage, and indeed in all serious or important matters,
it is right for children to consult their parents' pleasure.
He stayed to assist in the cure of his intended brother-in-law;
and when he was perfectly restored to health, he departed
to join his father, and to prepare for his promised
bride.
Felicia Flora had decided to marry Antonio the Barbarian;
for she said she would never return to live among the
friends and relations of the man who would have murdered
him.
Croriano and Ruperta, their pilgrimage ended, returned
to France, taking with them ample matter for discourse in
the events of the feigned Auristella's history.
Persiles had his brother buried in St. Peter's, and took
all his servants under his protection.
They visited all the churches in Rome, and loaded Constance
with caresses.
Sigismunda presented her with the diamond cross, and
would not part with her till she left her married to the
count, her brother-in-law. Then, having kissed the Pope's
feet, her vow accomplished, and her soul at peace, she
lived in sweet companionship with her husband Persiles,
to see their children's children grow up around them, their
lives prolonged and blessed in their happy and numerous
posterity.
Cervantes makes extraordinary mistakes with the
names of these northern countries; by Hibernia,
he doubtless means Scotland. The absurd story of
the Barnacle Goose was believed in the time of Cervantes.
Gerard, in his Herbal, published 1636,
writes as follows:—
"But what our eyes have seene, and hands have touched, we shall
declare: There is a small island in Lancashire called the Pile of Foulders,
wherein are found the broken pieces of old and bruised ships,
some whereof have been cast thither by shipwracke, and also the
trunks and bodies with the branches of old and rotten trees cast up
there likewise; whereon is found a certain spume or froth, that in
time breedeth unto certeine shels, in shape like those of the muskle,
but sharper pointed, and of a whitish color; wherein is contained a
thing in form like a lace of silke, finely woven, as it were, together,
of a whitish color, one end whereof is fastened unto the inside of the
shell, even as the fish of oysters and muskles are: the other end is
made fast unto the belly of a rude masse or lumpe, which in time
cometh to the shape and form of a bird: when it is perfectly formed
the shell gapeth open, and the first thing that appeareth is the aforesaid
lace or string: next come the legs of the bird, hanging out, and as
it grows greater, it openeth the shell by degrees, till at length it is
all come forth, and hangeth only by the bill: in short space after it
cometh to full maturitie and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth
feathers and groweth to a fowle bigger than a Mallard and lesser than
a goose, having blacke legs and bill or beake, and feathers blacke and
white spotted, in such manner as is our magpie, called in some places a
Pie-annet, which the people of Lancashire call by no other name than
a tree-goose; which place aforesaid, and all those parts adjoining, do so
much abound therewith, that one of the best is bought for three pence.
For the truth hereof, if any doubt, may it please them to repaire unto
me, and I shall satisfie them by the testimonie of good witnesses."
Gerarde's Herbal came out first in 1597; a second edition, with corrections
and emendations, 1633.
In the "Lais de Marie," we have the story of Bisclaveret—
"Formerly many men became garwalls, and had their houses in
woods. A garwall is a savage beast: his rage is so great that he devours
men, does great mischief, and lives in vast forests. The Bretons
call him Bisclaveret."—Marie's Lays, p. 160.
There are a great many curious particulars and observations upon this
subject in the Mémoires de la Société Nationale des Antiquaires de
France, tome 9.
There have been few superstitions more popular and general from
very ancient times down to comparatively modern; and it is remarkable
that under different names it is common to many countries.
"Parmi les Transformations d'hommes en animaux il en est une qui
se distingue des autres par ses caractères speciaux, par son nom particulier
et par la terreur profonde dont elle a frappé les imaginations des
gens du moyen age. Je veux parler des loups-garous; les loups-garous
ou hommes changés en loups, natures feroces et redoutables, puissances
malfaisantes emanées du demon ont été un des plus constants
objets de l'effroi populaire, et la foi a leur existence s'est perpetuée
jusqu'aux epoques les plus modernes."
"Si nous consultons les textes historiques du moyen age nous trouvons
la croyance aux loups-garous repandu dès les epoques les plus reculées
dans la plupart des contrées de l'Europe. Dans les lois de Canut
Roi d'Angleterre, un homme est designé sous le vieux nom de Lycanthrope."—Leges
Canute regis. Edit. Smith, i. 148.
"Jean Trithême raconte qu'en l'an 976, il y avait un Juif nommé
Baïan, fils de Siméon, Prince des Bulgares, qui se transformait en loup,
et se rendait invisible quand il voulait."—Vois Bodin Demonomanie des
Sorciers, I. H. C. VI.
"Boniface, Archevêque de Mayence, qui vivait au viii. siecle, mentionne
dans un de ses Sermons, parmi les œuvres du Diable, Incantationes
et Sortileges exquirere strigas et fictos lupos credere."—Sermon
XV. de Abrenuntiatione Diaboli.
"Saint Bernard d'apres l'auteur de sa vie, en passant dans une certaine
ville entendit raconter aux habitants que le bon voisin etait désole
par deux betes très feroces que le vulgaire appelle Varoli."—Vita Sancte
Bernardi, J. H. p. 227, 228.
Numbers of stories similar to these are given in the above-mentioned
work; but these must suffice. Very curious are the accounts given of
the different ways in which the same superstition existed in different
countries.
"En Portugal les lubishomens passent pour des gens nés sous une
mauvaise étoile, et condamnés par la fatalité au malheur; c'est a dire, a
l'enfer. Quand il y a dans une famille sept fils ou sept filles, l'un d'eux
appartient au Diable. Pendant le jour les lubishomens sont taciturnes
et melancoliques; la nuit un penchant irresistible les porte a quitter leur
demeures et a chercher les lieux les plus sauvages. Après s'etre depouillés
de leur vêtemens ils se transforment en chevaux a la longue
crinière, aux yeux ardents, franchissant les montagnes, les vallées et les
fleuves, et parcourent ainsi un arc de quelques centaines de lieues; mais
avant l'aube ils retournent au point de depart, reprennent leur vêtemens
et redeviennent hommes. Il n'y a qu'un moyen de détruire l'influence
diabolique a laquelle ils sont soumis; c'est d'avoir le courage de se mettre
au devant d'eux et d'arrêter leur course fougeuse et de les blesser légèrement
a la poitrine, dès que le sang coule à terre ils sont délivrés du
Démon, et leur métamorphose cesse pour toujours."
"Cette tradition qui m'a été signalée par mon savant collegue, M.
Depping, est rapportée dans les Lusitanian Sketches, et dans Le Portugal
de M. Ferd. Denis."
"Autrefois la Prusse, la Lithuanie, la Livonie fourmillaient de Sorciers
qui passaient pour se métamorphoser en loups quand ils vouloient."
In the same paper, "Recherches sur la Lycanthropie," we have a
great deal more on the subject, too long to extract for this note. In
the middle ages, it is stated that the laws were very strict and rigorous
against all who were accused of this singular species of sorcery. They
were feared and hated as the most dangerous and ferocious of murderers,
and when taken were burnt alive. About 1436, at Berne, a great
number of sorcerers were burnt alive, who confessed that they were
obedient to the devil, and, by means of certain ointments, were able to
transform themselves, and that they had devoured their own children.
In 1574, before the Parliament of Dôle, a "Procès de Lycanthropie"
was tried against Gilles Garnier, a sorcerer, of Lyons. He was condemned
and burnt. The 3rd of December, 1573, the Parliament of
Franche Comté issued an order for a "Chasse de Loups-garous." From
1596 to 1600, a great number of men and women suffered the punishment
of fire as Lycanthropes and Demonolâtres. In the capacity of
judge, Jean Boquet showed such intense zeal against them, that, at the
close of his life, he boasted, says Voltaire, of having himself caused
more than six hundred Lycanthropes to perish.—Boquet Disc. des Sorciers,
&c. 1603. Voltaire, Œuvres completes. Ed. Baudmin, t. 39.
The subject was preached upon from the altar; learned dissertations
were written and published as to whether the fact of men being able to
transform themselves into beasts were true or no.
At the close of this paper the author gives his own opinion as to
whether the transformation of men into beasts be admissible; and in all
the facts produced by writers and preserved by tradition, how much is
reality, trickery, or imagination. To the first question, we need hardly
say, he answers in the negative; to the second, our answer is, that
certain facts set down to Lycanthropy have been really accomplished by
true wolves, or men in a state of savage nature; 2ndly, others have
been contrived by popular imaginations, or by deceivers, whether to
terrify or to delude; 3rdly, the greater number of the facts have been
caused by affections of the brain in the pretended loups-garous, by that
black melancholy already described by the physicians of antiquity—in
a word, by madness.
This is one of the mistakes Cervantes falls into: the story of no
venomous creature being able to exist is told of Ireland, and not of
England. "Bede writeth, that serpents conueid into Ireland did presently
die, being touched with the smell of the land; that whatsoever
came from Ireland was then of sovereigne virtue against poison."—Bede,
lib. 1, Ang. Hist. cap. 1.
Saith Irenæus: "I am doone to understand by the report of diuerse,
and also by Bede, that no poisoned or venemous thing is bred in that
realme (Ireland), insomuch that the verie earth of that countrie, being
brought to other realmes, killeth all venemous and poisoned wormes."
"Evanthes (a writer among the Greekes of good account and authority)
reporteth that he found among the records of the Arcadians,
that in Arcadia there was a certain house and race of the Antœi, out of
which one evermore must needs be transformed into a wolf: and when
they of that family have cast lots who it shall be, they vie to accompany
the party upon whom the lot is falne to a certain meere or poole
in that country. When he is thither come, they turn him naked out
of all his clothes, which they hang upon an oak thereby: then he swimmeth
over the said lake to the other side; and being entered into the
wildernesse, is presently transfigured and turned into a wolfe, and so
keepeth company with his like of that kind for nine yeeres space;
during which time (if he forbeare all the while to eat man's flesh) he
returneth again to the same poole or pond; and being swomme over
it, receiveth his former shape of a man, save only that he shall look
nine yeeres older than before. Fabius addeth one thing more, and saith
that he findeth again the same apparel that was hung up in the oak
aforesaid.
"A wonder is it to see to what passe these Greekes are come in their
credulity; there is not so shamelesse a lye but it findeth one or other
of them to uphold and to maintaine it."—Holland's Pliny.
Cervantes is fond of this legend. He refers to it in his Don Quixote,
chap. 5. I never heard that such a superstition ever existed in England;
but Sharon Turner, speaking of King Arthur, says: "So greatly
were the people of Bretagne interested in his fame, that Alanus de Insulis
tells us that even in his time (the twelfth century) they would not
believe that their favourite was dead. If you do not believe me, go into
Bretagne, and mention in the streets and villages that Arthur is really
dead like other men, you will not escape with impunity; you will be
either hooted with the curses of your hearers, or be stoned to death."
Trouveurs (continues Turner), troubadours, and monkish versifiers
combine to express the same idea. We find the same in the traditions
of the old Welsh bards, "who believed that King Arthur was not dead,
but conveyed away by the fairies into some pleasant place, where he
should remaine for a time, and then return again, and reign in as great
authority as ever."—Holinshed, b. 5. c. 14.
"Some men yet say, in many parts of England, that King Arthur is
not dead; but by the will of our Lord Jesu Christ, into another place;
and men say that he will come again, and he shall win the holy cross.
I will not say that it shall be so; but rather I will say, that here, in
this world, he changed his life. But many men say that there is written
upon his tomb this verse:—
"'Hic jacet Arthurus rex quondam, rex futuris.'"
Mort d'Arthur, by Sir Thomas Maleor, or Malory, Knight.
Cervantes makes strange blunders with these northern nations, of
which he evidently knew very little. It seems singular, for one so well
informed as he was on many points, to be so ignorant about their history
at the same period as his own. He here talks of the King of Danea,
having already a Danish prince in his story; but I have ventured to
suppose that Cervantes considers the countries of Denmark, Sweden,
and Norway as being all included in the word Danes, which was the
general appellation given to the Scandinavian tribes in the ninth and
tenth centuries. There were the Western Danes, inhabitants of what
is now called Denmark. The Eastern Danes are now Sweden. The
Northern Danes are Norway. These people had all one common language.
Later in the book, Periander hears the language of Norway,
and recognizes it as his own. I have therefore changed the word
Danea, and made Leopold King of Norway. It was a curious oversight
that Cervantes fell into, giving imaginary sovereigns to all the northern
kingdoms, and, as Sismondi observes, in fact, knowing no more of
them than his own Don Quixote did. "The Poles, the Norwegians,
the Irish and the English are all introduced in their turns, and represented
as possessing manners no less extraordinary, and a mode of life
no less fantastic, than that of the savages with whom he peoples his
unknown isles; nor is the scene laid in that remote antiquity, the obscurity
of which might admit of such fables."—Sismondi: Roscoe's
Translation.
But otherwise, one might suppose that Cervantes, entirely abandoning
the field of reality, and forgetting that, in other parts of the
story, he intends us to be actually within that sober realm, by making
mention of personages who were existing about his own time, had wandered
away into the dreamy countries of romance, and that he is speaking
of those imaginary kingdoms we read of in Amadis de Gaul—"El
Reyno di Dinamarea o el di Sobradisa," kingdoms in romance, situated
in the imaginary maps of the Chronicle of Amadis de Gaul. Of the
Dinamarea damsel, the chief confidante of the Lady Oriana, and of the
kingdom of Sobradisa, which was bounded by that of Seroloys on one
side, and by the sea on the other, we have frequent mention, especially
in chapters 21 and 22.—Note in Don Quixote, by Pellicer, v. 1, pt. 1.
In the middle ages, riding full gallop down a precipice occurs in
Froissart, as a common but distinguished act of chivalry.—Fosbroke's
Encyclopædia of Antiquities.
In this poet Cervantes describes himself. His first literary compositions
were dramas; he was poor; he had returned home from his
career as a soldier with the loss of his left hand, and had been five years
and a half in slavery at Algiers.
Cervantes hated the Moors; which was, perhaps, not wonderful
after his five years' slavery among them. But he is clearly a courtier,
too; and the story seems introduced for the sake of this tirade against
their nation; and the apostrophe to the king, Philip III., in whose
reign was perpetrated that deed of violence, cruelty, and short-sighted
folly, the consequences of which Spain will never recover, and which
will ever remain a dark blot in the page of her history.
It also serves as an opportunity for Cervantes to show his zeal for the
Roman Catholic religion, which he never loses throughout the whole
work. The expulsion of the Moors was determined upon in 1609.
Persiles and Sigismunda is the last work Cervantes ever wrote. The
dedication is dated 1616.
The Academy of the Entronadas, properly Intronati, an Italian word
which signifies blockheads. The Italian academies, of which almost
every town, large and small, had one or more, (and in the sixteenth
century especially Italy was remarkable for them,) were distinguished
by quaint and humorous names, such as "Insensati," "Stordite,"
"Confusi," "Politice," "Umorose," "Oziosi," "Gelati." The Intronati,
which Cervantes has called Entronadas, were at Sienna.
"Les Intronati mot qu'on ne peut rendre en Francais que par les
Abasourdis ou les Stupides, avaient autant d'esprit et de malice, mais
plus d'elegance que les Rozze (grossiers, mal gracieux stupides). Leur
Academie avait été fondée en 1525 par le Tolommei, Luca Contile,
François Piccolomini, qui fut depuis Archevêque de Sienne, et par
d'autres hommes distingués dans la Philosophie et dans les lettres. Elle
faisoit une étude particulière de la langue Toscane et son Theatre Comique
avait une grande celebrité."—Ginguené Hist. Litteraire de l'Italie.
Milan had its Trasformati; Pavia the Affidati, Desiosi; Mantua the
Invhagati Intenti; but for further information the reader may consult
Ginguené or Triaboschi, who has in his eighth volume an entire chapter
upon the academies.
BOOK IV.
Note 9. Page 418, after the word Bargains.
I have here omitted a page which relates to a poet whose appearance
once before I also left out. It appears to be introduced only for
the purpose of saying a word in praise of Francisco López de Zárate,
whose verses, says Cervantes, ought to resound through the four quarters
of the globe, and his harmonious numbers enchant every heart, as
he sings of "The Invention of the Cross of Christ," with "The Wars
of the Emperor Constantine," a poem truly heroic and religious, and
worthy to be called a poem. He is not mentioned by Sismondi; and
Bouterweke only gives his name as one among several in a list of the
authors of "A Torrent of Heroic Poems." "La Invencion de la
Cruz," by López Zárate, is one of these, but he receives no other notice
than this remark upon them all: "None but those who make this
branch of literature their especial study now think of perusing these
and similar patriotic effusions, which were, at the period of their publication,
regarded as epic poems."
Thulé, or Tile. What country really was the Thulé of the ancients
has never been clearly made known to us. In Camden's Britannia may
be read all the various accounts in a chapter headed "The Thulé of
the Ancients," v. 2.
"Beyond the Orcades and above Britain," the old scholiast upon
Horace places the Fortunate Isles, which none but pious and just men
are said to inhabit, a place celebrated by the Greek poets for its pleasantness
and fertility, and called by them the "Elysian Fields." But
take another account of these isles from Isacius Tzetzes, a fabulous
Greek, in his notes upon Lycophron:—
"In the ocean is a British island, between the west of Britain and
Thulé, towards the east. Thither, they say, the souls of the dead are
transported; for on the shore of that sea, within which Britain lieth,
there dwell certain fishermen, who are subject to the French, but accountable
for no tribute, because (as they say) they ferry over the souls
of the deceased. These fishermen return home and sleep in the evening,
but a little after, hear a rapping at their doors, and a voice calling
them to their work. Upon that they presently rise, and go to the
shore without any other business, and find boats ready for them (but
none of their own), and nobody in them; yet, when they come on
board and fall to their oars, they find the boats as heavy as if they were
laden with men, though they see none. After one pull, they presently
arrive at that British island, which at other times, in ships of their
own, they hardly reach in a day and night. When they come to land
on the island, they see nobody, but hear the voice of those who receive
their passengers counting them by the stock of father and mother, and
calling them singly, according to the title of their dignity, employment,
and name. After they have unloaded, they return back at one stroke.
From hence, many take these to be the Islands of the Blessed."—Page
1482.
After giving all the various accounts by various authors, he says:—"Thus
much may suffice concerning Thulé, which is hid from us as
well as it was from the ancients, by snow and winter. As a certain
author expresses it, neither was any of them able to say which of the
Northern Isles they meant when they talked of Thulé."
"Friseland." Cervantes has taken his idea entirely from the accounts
given by the Venetian brothers, Nicholas and Antonio Zeni, not
Temo, probably a misprint. Their voyage is told in an Italian collection
of voyages, "Delle Navigatione and Viaggi Raccolse da M. Gio. Battista
Ramusio." Venice, 3 vols. fol. 1613. Nicholas and Antonio Zeni;
Discovery of Friseland, Iceland, and the North Pole: "Nicholas Zeno
having been shipwrecked, in 1380, on the island of Friseland, in consequence
of their having been overtaken by a tempest, and likewise
having been saved by Prince Zichmni from the rude attacks of the inhabitants,
put himself, with all his men, under the protection of this
prince, who was lord of certain small islands which lay to the south of
Frieseland."—Voyages and Discoveries in the North: Forster.
"And this is as much as is known of Greenland from the relation
of Nicolo Zeno, who gives likewise a particular description of a river
that he discovered, as is to be seen in the chart that I (viz. Antonio
Zeno) have drawn. Nicolo not being able to bear the severe cold of
these northern climates, fell sick, and a little after, returned to Friesland,
where he died."—Forster, p. 188. Translated from the Italian of
Francesco Marcolini, in Ramusio's Collections.
Forster imagines this Friesland to be the Feroe Islands.
St. Thomas. "In the spring, Nicholas Zeno resolved to go out on
discoveries, and having fitted out three small ships, he set sail in July;
and, shaping his course to the northwards, arrived in Engroveland, Engroneland,
Groenland, or Greenland, where he found a Monastery of
Predicant Friars, and a Church, dedicated to St. Thomas, hard by a
mountain that threw out fire, like Etna or Vesuvius. They have here
a spring of boiling hot water, with which they heat the church, the
monastery, and the friars' chambers. It comes likewise so hot into the
kitchen, that they use no fire for dressing their victuals; and putting
their bread into brass pots without any water, it is baked as though it
was in a hot oven. They have also small gardens, covered over in
winter; which gardens, being watered with this water, are defended
from the snow and cold, that in these regions, situated so near the pole,
is extremely great."—Forster, p. 184.
"They live on wild fowl and fish; for, in consequence of the warm water
running into the sea in a large and wide haven, which, by reason of
the heat of the water, never freezes, there is so great a concourse
in this place of sea-fowl and fish, that they take as many of them as
they can possibly have occasion for, with which they maintain a great
number of people round about, whom they keep continually employed
both in building and in taking of fowls and fish, as well as in a thousand
other necessary occupations and affairs relative to the monastery."
"To this monastery resort monks from Norway and Sweden, and
from other countries."
FINIS.
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