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                         TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES


Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

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.

                            [Illustration]

                                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.

                            [Illustration]




                      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.


                            [Illustration]

                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                               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.


                           TABLE OF CONTENTS

                                                         PAGE

        PROLOGUE                                          xv

                                BOOK 1

        CHAPTER I                                         3

        CHAPTER II                                        8

        CHAPTER III                                      17

        CHAPTER IV                                       21

        CHAPTER V                                        30

        CHAPTER VI                                       38

        CHAPTER VII                                      48

        CHAPTER VIII                                     51

        CHAPTER IX                                       58

        CHAPTER X                                        64

        CHAPTER XI                                       71

        CHAPTER XII                                      76

        CHAPTER XIII                                     81

        CHAPTER XIV                                      85

        CHAPTER XV                                       87

        CHAPTER XVI                                      90

        CHAPTER XVII                                     95

        CHAPTER XVIII                                    98

        CHAPTER XIX                                     108

        CHAPTER XX                                      113

        CHAPTER XXI                                     117

        CHAPTER XXII                                    119

        CHAPTER XXIII                                   126

                              BOOK 2

        CHAPTER I                                       133

        CHAPTER II                                      136

        CHAPTER III                                     144

        CHAPTER IV                                      150

        CHAPTER V                                       155

        CHAPTER VI                                      163

        CHAPTER VII                                     168

        CHAPTER VIII                                    174

        CHAPTER IX                                      181

        CHAPTER X                                       186

        CHAPTER XI                                      190

        CHAPTER XII                                     198

        CHAPTER XIII                                    203

        CHAPTER XIV                                     210

        CHAPTER XV                                      216

        CHAPTER XVI                                     224

        CHAPTER XVII                                    230

        CHAPTER XVIII                                   235

        CHAPTER XIX                                     242

        CHAPTER XX                                      250

        CHAPTER XXI                                     256

        CHAPTER XXII                                    262

                              BOOK III

        CHAPTER I                                       271

        CHAPTER II                                      280

        CHAPTER III                                     289

        CHAPTER IV                                      295

        CHAPTER V                                       305

        CHAPTER IX                                      311

        CHAPTER X                                       323

        CHAPTER XI                                      332

        CHAPTER XII                                     342

        CHAPTER XIII                                    350

        CHAPTER XIV                                     354

        CHAPTER XV                                      360

        CHAPTER XVI                                     365

        CHAPTER XVII                                    369

        CHAPTER XVIII                                   375

        CHAPTER XIX                                     376

        CHAPTER XX                                      379

        CHAPTER XXI                                     386

                              BOOK IV

        CHAPTER I                                       395

        CHAPTER III                                     402

        CHAPTER IV                                      407

        CHAPTER V                                       411

        CHAPTER VI                                      414

        CHAPTER VII                                     420

        CHAPTER VIII                                    428

        CHAPTER IX                                      434

        CHAPTER X                                       438

        CHAPTER XI                                      443

        CHAPTER XII                                     448

        CHAPTER XIII                                    454

        CHAPTER XIV                                     459

                               NOTES

        Book I                                          467

        Book II                                         472

        Book III                                        473

        Book IV                                         474




                            [Illustration]




                                BOOK I.

                            [Illustration]

                            [Illustration]


             THE WANDERINGS[D] OF PERSILES AND SIGISMUNDA.




                              CHAPTER I.

  _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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[E] Scotland is clearly meant. See Note 1.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER XIII.

        _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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                            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."

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.'"

                            [Illustration]




                            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.

                            [Illustration]


                               BOOK II.

                            [Illustration]

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

"The festival and entertainments now began."[F]

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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."


                              FOOTNOTES:

[G] Note 4.

[H] Danea in the original.

                            [Illustration]




                              CHAPTER XV.

 _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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[I] See Pontoppidan.

[J] Tebir, name of gold dust on the African coast.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."

                            [Illustration]




                            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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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."


                              FOOTNOTES:

[K] See Note 5.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER XXII.

   _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.

                            [Illustration]


                               BOOK III.

                            [Illustration]


                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[M] The Gracioso of the Spanish Comedy.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER III.

         _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."

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

[O] A small coin.

[P] Tan buen pan hacen aquí como en Francia. (Proverb.)

                            [Illustration]




                              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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[Q] Cosas de Argel.

[R] I can nowhere find the meaning of Jadraque.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER XII.


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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER XVII.


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.




                            CHAPTER XVIII.


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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[S] See Note 8.

                            [Illustration]




                              CHAPTER XX.


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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]


                               BOOK IV.

                            [Illustration]

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.


                              FOOTNOTES:

[T] Puesto en Cruz sin su Cruz.

                            [Illustration]




                             CHAPTER VIII.


  _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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                              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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.

                            [Illustration]




                             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.




                                NOTES.

                            [Illustration]


                                NOTES.

                                BOOK I.


                          _Note 1._ Page 78.

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.


                          _Note 2._ Page 103.

The Loup-garoux, or Man-wolf--Garwall.

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.


                          _Note 3._ Page 103.

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."


                          _Note 4._ Page 105.

"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._


                          _Note 5._ Page 105.

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_.


                               BOOK II.


                          _Note 4._ Page 212.

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.


                          _Note 5._ Page 256.

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._


                               BOOK III.


                          _Note 6._ Page 281.

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.


                          _Note 7._ Page 338.

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.


                          _Note 8._ Page 377.

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."


                         _Note 12._ Page 449.

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."


                         _Note 13._ Page 455.

"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.


                         _Note 14._ Page 455.

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.


                         _Note 15._ Page 455.

"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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