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[[For sources, see the end of the e-text. This story is also
available from Project Gutenberg as e-text 32527.]]
+The ADVENTURES of ALPHONSO and MARINA;+
An Interesting Spanish Tale.
Marina, at seventeen, was the most admired beauty in Granada. She was an
orphan, and heiress to an immense fortune, under the guardianship of an
old and avaricious uncle, whose name was Alonzo, and who passed his days
in counting ducats, and his nights in silencing serenades, nocturnally
addressed to Marina. His design was to marry her, for the sake of her
great fortune, to his own son, Henriquez, who had studied ten years in
the university of Salamanca, and was now able to explain Cornelius Nepos
tolerably well.
Almost all the cavaliers of Granada were in love with Marina. As they
could obtain a sight of her only at mass, the church she frequented was
filled with great numbers of the handsomest and most accomplished youths
of the country.
One of the most distinguished among these, was Don Alphonso, a captain
of cavalry, about twenty, not very rich, but of a family of the first
distinction. Handsome, polite, and witty, he attracted the eyes of all
the ladies of Granada; though he himself paid attention to none but
Marina, who, not insensible to his attachment, began, on her part, to
take notice of her admirer.
Two months passed away without the lovers daring to speak; nevertheless,
they silently said much. At the end of that time Don Alphonso found
means to convey a letter to his mistress; which informed her of what she
knew before. The reserved Marina had no sooner read this letter than she
sent it back to Don Alphonso; but, as she possessed an excellent memory,
she retained every word, and was able to return a very punctual answer,
a week afterwards.
A correspondence was now settled between the two lovers; but Don
Alphonso was desirous to be still more intimate. He had long solicited
permission to converse with Marina through her lattices. Such is the
custom in Spain, where the windows are of much more use during the night
than in the day. They are the places of rendezvous. When the street is
vacant and still, the lover wraps himself up in his cloak, and, taking
his sword, invokes love and night to favour him, and proceeds to some
low lattice, grated on the side next the street, and secured on the
inside by shutters.
He waits not long before the window opens softly, and the charming maid
appears. She asks, in a tremulous voice, if any one is there. Her lover,
transported at her condescension, endeavours to dispel her fears. They
talk in a whisper, and repeat the same thing a hundred times. Day, at
length, approaches, and they must separate.
Marina’s lattice was on the ground floor, and opened into a narrow
passage, where the houses were ill built, and only inhabited by the
lower class of people. Don Alphonso’s old nurse happened to occupy a
tenement directly opposite the window of Marina. Don Alphonso, therefore
repaired to his nurse. ‘My good woman,’ said he, ‘I have been much to
blame to suffer you to live so long in this miserable habitation; but I
am now determined to make you amends, by giving you an apartment in my
own house. Come, and reside in that, and leave me to dispose of this.’
The worthy woman could not refrain from tears, and, for a long time,
refused; but, at last, overcome by his solicitations, she consented to
the exchange, with every expression of gratitude to her benefactor.
Never did any monarch enter his palace with more satisfaction than Don
Alphonso did the hovel of his nurse.
Early in the evening Marina appeared at her lattice. She promised to
repair thither every other night, and she kept her word. These
delightful interviews served only to fan the flame of love, and, very
soon, the lovers nights were constantly passed in pleasing conversation,
and their days in writing passionate epistles.
Just at this time, Henriquez, the intended husband of Marina, arrived
from Salamanca; bringing with him a declaration of his passion in Latin,
which had been written for him by the head of his college.
The lovers consulted each other on this event at the lattice; but, in
the mean time, the old guardian had drawn up a contract of marriage, and
a day was fixed on for the celebration of the nuptials of Marina and
Henriquez.
In these circumstances, the only remedy was to fly into Portugal. This
was determined; and it was also settled that the two lovers, on arriving
at Lisbon, should first marry, and afterwards have recourse to the law,
against the guardian.
Marina was to carry with her a box of jewels, which had been left her by
her mother. These were very valuable, and sufficient to maintain the
happy pair till the decision of their law-suit. To effect this escape,
it was necessary to procure the key of the lattice, and in this Marina
succeeded.
It was resolved also, that the next night, at eleven, Don Alphonso,
after having appointed horses to wait without the city, should come and
fetch Marina; who should descend from the window, into the arms of her
lover, and immediately set off for Portugal.
Don Alphonso spent the whole day in preparations for his departure.
Marina, on her part, was equally busy, in getting ready the little box
she was to take with her. She was very careful to secret in it a very
fine emerald, which had been given her by her lover.
Marina and her box were ready by eight in the evening; and, before ten,
Don Alphonso, who had already provided carriages on the road to
Andalusia, arrived at the appointed spot: his heart beating with
perturbation and hope.
As he approached the place, he heard persons calling for assistance, and
perceived two men attacked by five armed assassins. The brave and humane
Alphonso forgot his own affairs to defend the lives of the assaulted. He
wounded two, and put the other three to flight.
What was his surprise, on more attentively viewing the persons he had
delivered, to perceive they were no other than Henriquez, and Alonzo,
the guardian of Marina. Some desperate young cavalier of the city, who
was in love with Marina, knowing it was intended that Henriquez should
espouse her, had hired bravoes, to assassinate them; and, had it not
been for the valour of Don Alphonso, the young scholar and the old miser
would have found it no easy matter to escape.
Alphonso did his utmost to avoid their grateful acknowledgments, but
Henriquez, who piqued himself on having learned politeness at Salamanca,
swore he should not leave them that night. Alphonso, in despair, had
already heard the clock strike eleven. Alas! he knew not the misfortune
that had happened.
One of the bravoes, whom he had put to flight, had passed muffled up in
his cloak, near the lattice of Marina. The night was extremely dark, and
the unfortunate beauty, having opened the window, imagined him to be Don
Alphonso, and presented him the box with joyful impatience: ‘Take our
diamonds,’ said she, ‘while I descend.’
At the word diamonds, the bravo suddenly stopped, took the box, without
speaking a word, and, while Marina was getting out of the window, fled
with the utmost precipitation.
Imagine the surprise of Marina, when she found herself alone in the
street, and saw nothing of him whom she had taken for Don Alphonso. She
thought, at first, he had left her, to avoid raising suspicion or alarm.
She, therefore, hastily walked to a little distance, looked round on
every side, and called in a low voice. But no Alphonso could she see; no
lover could she hear.
She was now seized with the most alarming apprehensions. She knew not
whether it were most adviseable to return home, or endeavour to find the
horses and attendants of Don Alphonso, that were waiting without the
city. She continued to walk forwards, in the utmost uncertainty and
distress, till she had lost herself in the streets; while her fears were
augmented by the darkness and silence of the night.
At length she met a person, whom she asked if she were far from the gate
of the city. The stranger conducted her thither; but she found nobody
waiting as she expected.
She dared not yet accuse her lover of deceiving her: still she hoped he
was at no great distance. She proceeded, therefore, along the road,
fearful of every bush, and calling Don Alphonso at every step; but the
farther she walked the more she was bewildered; for she had come out of
the city on the side opposite to the Portugal road.
In the mean time Don Alphonso found himself unable to get away from the
grateful Henriquez and his father. They would not suffer him to leave
them for a moment, but obliged him to enter the house with them; to
which Alphonso, fearful of betraying his intent, and frustrating his
dearest hopes; and imagining too that Marina might be soon acquainted
with the reason of his delay, most reluctantly consented.
Alonzo hastens to the chamber of his ward, to inform her of the danger
he had escaped. He calls, but receives no answer; he enters her
apartment, and finds the lattice open; his cries collect the servants,
and the alarm is immediately given, that Marina is missing.
Alphonso, in despair, immediately offered to go in quest of her.
Henriquez, thanking him for the concern he expressed, declared his
resolution to accompany him. Alphonso suggested, that the probability of
finding her would be greater, if they took different roads. Accordingly,
he hastened to rejoin his domestics: and not doubting but Marina had
taken the road to Portugal, put his horses at full speed. But their
swiftness only removed him farther from the object of his love; while
Henriquez galloped towards the Alpuxarian mountains, the way which
Marina had actually taken.
In the mean time, Marina continued to wander, disconsolate, along the
road that led to the Alpuxares. Presently she heard the clattering noise
of approaching horses; and at first, imagined it might be her beloved
Alphonso: but, afterward, fearful of discovery, or apprehensive of
robbers, she concealed herself, trembling, behind some bushes.
Here she presently saw Henriquez pass by, followed by a number of
servants. Shuddering at the danger of being again in the power of
Alonzo, if she continued in the high road, she turned aside, and took
refuge in a thick wood.
The Alpuxares are a chain of mountains, which extend from Granada to the
Mediterranean. They are inhabited only by a few peasants. To these, fear
and terror conducted the unfortunate maid. A dry and stony soil, with a
few oak trees, thinly scattered: some torrents and echoing cataracts,
and a number of wild goats, leaping from precipice to precipice; are the
only objects which present themselves at day-break to the eyes of
Marina. Exhausted, at length, by fatigue and vexation, she sat down in
the cavity of a rock, through the clifts of which a limped water gently
oozed.
The silence of this grotto, the wildness of the landscape around, the
hoarse and distant murmur of several cascades, and the noise of the
water near her, falling drop by drop into the bason it had hollowed
beneath, all conspired to excite in Marina the most melancholy
sensations. Now she thought herself cruelly abandoned by her lover; and
now she persuaded herself that some mistake had happened: ‘It certainly
could not be Alphonso,’ said she, ‘to whom I gave my diamonds. I must
have been mistaken. No doubt he is now far hence, seeking me with
anxiety and distraction; while I, as far distant from him, am perishing
here.’
While thus mournfully ruminating, Marina, on a sudden, heard the sound
of a rustic flute. Attentively listening, she soon heard an harmonious
voice, deploring, in plaintive strains, the infidelity of his mistress,
and the miseries of disappointed love.
‘And who can be more sensible of this than myself?’ said Marina, leaving
the grotto, in search of this unfortunate lover.
She found a young goatherd, sitting at the foot of a willow, his eyes
bedewed with tears, and intent on the water as it issued from its rocky
source. In his hand he held a flagalet, and by his side lay a staff and
a little parcel.
‘Shepherd,’ said Marina, ‘you are no doubt forsaken by your Mistress:
have pity on one abandoned, like yourself, and conduct me to some
habitation, where I may procure sustenance, at least, though not
repose!’
(To be continued.)
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_For the +New-York Weekly Magazine+._
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