when the third bull, who, since he had been loose, had completely
disordered the whole square, came up, and interrupted these delightful
moments, by advancing towards Ozmin. This formidable animal was one of
the Tarita breed, and a more enormous beast had never been seen. His
frightful bellowings spread terror throughout the place. Though he had
no need to be irritated, they did not, therefore, omit to throw stakes
at him, according to custom, which so excited his rage, that Don
Rodrigo, Don Alonso, and the other combatants, dared not face him with
the intrepidity that they had shewn towards the two others.
This terrible beast, then, rushed towards Ozmin, who at that moment was
thinking of nothing less than preparing to defend himself; but being
warned of his danger by Orviedo, who quickly handed him his lance, and
animated by the sight of his mistress, he boldly presented himself
before the bull, and thrust his lance between the neck and shoulder with
so much vigor, that he left him nailed to the earth, as if he had been
struck down by a thunderbolt, with more than half of the lance through
his body; after which our champion threw the broken remainder, which
was still in his hand, into the middle of the square, and withdrew.
So bold and surprising an action excited the admiration of the whole
Court, and of all the people; the place re-echoed with shouts of
applause and acclamations; nothing was to be heard for a full quarter of
an hour, but, _long live the Knight of the Blue Scarf, the strongest and
bravest man of the age_. While the valour of Ozmin was being thus
proclaimed and celebrated, the timid Daraxa, whom the first sight of the
bull had filled with the most dreadful apprehensions for her lover, was
still so confounded, that she thought she saw the animal all in fury
before her; but the acclamations of the spectators, at length, by
degrees, brought her to her senses. She looked instantly all over the
square for her dear Moor; and not perceiving him, she enquired with
anxiety what was become of him; and he was pointed out to her at a
considerable distance from the lists, and followed by a crowd of people,
who appeared as if they would never be tired of gazing upon a man who
had so eminently distinguished himself.
It was now night, and the square in an instant shone with an infinite
number of flambeaux, which created a very fine illumination. The
diversion of the _sporting spears_ was soon to begin. Twelve squadrons
were seen advancing with their trumpets, fifes and kettle-drums,
followed by their livery servants, and twelve valets laden with bundles
of reeds made into sporting spears. The led horses of the knights had
velvet caparisons, of the colour of the squadron to which they belonged,
embroidered with gold and silver, and the arms of each chief; not only
gold and silver glistened in their equipages, but even jewels were not
spared. They entered the square in the following order:--
The equerries of every chief of a squadron marched first, conducting
the equipages; twelve horses, carrying at their foremost saddle-bows the
arms of each knight, and at their hinder their devices, came next,
followed by others, whose caparisons were hung with silver bells, which
made a loud jingling. The footmen in livery followed the horses: they
marched completely round the square, and went out by a different gate
from that at which they entered, to avoid confusion. The quadrillos,
each conducted by their chief, then entered in two files, with so much
grace and skill that they charmed all the spectators; which is not
surprising, since the most accomplished cavaliers for these sports are
undoubtedly those of Seville, Cordara, and Xeres de la Frontera, where
even children of eight or ten years of age are seen to manage horses,
and manœuvre them in most excellent style.
When the quadrillos had exhibited themselves four times round the
square, they retreated by the same gate as their equipages, but soon
returned again with their shields on their arms and their sporting
spears in their hands. They began their combats twelve against twelve,
that is to say, one quadrillo against another. Having thus fought for
about a quarter of an hour, two other squadrons came upon different
sides, who under pretence of parting them, began a new combat.
In the mean time, Ozmin and Orviedo, having at length escaped from the
crowd of people that had followed them, regained their inn; and having
disarmed themselves, they returned to the place of sports, where the
amorous Ozmin, pressing through the throng, placed himself under the
balcony of the beautiful Moor. As he was now but plainly dressed, nobody
took him for a man of any consequence notwithstanding his noble mien.
Daraxa, who felt assured that he would not fail to appear again before
her, was looking all around for him; but though he was so close to her,
and was gazing at her with admiration, she did not perceive him. She was
playing with a very fine nosegay, adorned with ribbons, which Don Alonso
had sent her in the morning; and this nosegay chanced to slip out of her
hand, and fell just at Ozmin’s feet, who hastened to take it up. This
accident caused the lady to look down, and she recognized her dear Moor,
from whom she did not afterwards turn her eyes; but perceiving that some
of the people that stood around him were preparing to oblige him to
restore the nosegay, she called aloud to them to let him keep it,
adding, that it was in good hands: this having put an end to the
dispute, the happy Ozmin, having become peaceable possessor of a favor
for which he considered he was indebted rather to chance than love,
fastened it, by way of gallantry, to his hat.
After this, our two lovers began to make signs to each other, a silent
but very common language among the Moors, which Spaniards have since
learnt of them, as well as very many other fashions, which have
contributed to establish that nation as the most gallant in Europe.
Ozmin and his mistress discoursed in this manner unnoticed by any one,
all the spectators being too attentive to the sports to observe them.
Besides, who could imagine that the beautiful Moor, who was so
regardless of the addresses of the most accomplished cavaliers at the
Court, could have found among the populace an object worthy of her
attention?
These happy moments lasted only to the end of the sports of the
quadrillos, which were no sooner ended, than the last bull, which was
not less ferocious than that which had been killed by Ozmin, was let
loose, as is customary, to conclude the diversions. The animal’s
motions, when he was first loosed, sufficiently evinced that he was
determined to sell his life dearly. Don Rodrigo de Padilla, Don Juan de
Castro, Don Alonso, and many other cavaliers alighted from their horses,
anxious to excel each other in engaging this beast on foot, who soon
made two or three among them well acquainted with the hardness of his
horns. One of them was carried off half dead, which rather moderated the
ardor of the rest.
In fact, none but a true knight-errant could possibly have been
delighted in engaging with a bull, whose very appearance was terrific;
he foamed with rage, tore up the earth with his feet, and looked at each
champion as if undecided on whom to vent his fury. Don Alonso,
nevertheless, excited by his love, was desirous of signalizing himself
under the eyes of the beautiful Moor, at the risk of his life. With this
view, he advanced towards her balcony, to be the more observed by her,
and while he stood thus in expectation of the animal’s approach, he
perceived Ozmin, who now remained alone on that spot, fear having
dispersed the crowd which had before surrounded him. Daraxa had in vain
endeavoured, by signs, to prevail on him to follow them, or at least to
get upon a scaffolding hard by; her tears had not been able to overcome
his resolution; the conqueror of the bull of Tarita, would have
considered it dishonorable to have shewn himself afraid of any other.
Zuniga took particular notice of this cavalier, or rather of the nosegay
which he perceived in his hat, and which he easily recognized by the
light of the flambeaux, with which the whole square was illuminated. He
was not a little surprised at what he saw; but to be more certain that
he was not mistaken, he addressed himself to Ozmin, who appeared to him
no more than a man of the vulgar order: “Friend,” said he to him, “who
gave you that nosegay?” Although the Moor rightly guessed what interest
the cavalier who spoke to him might feel in it, he answered, without the
least concern, that “it came to him very fairly, but that he owed it to
Fortune only:” “I know but too well whence you got it,” replied Don
Alonso, raising his voice, “deliver it up to me immediately, it was not
made for you.” “I grant nothing by compulsion,” rejoined Ozmin, as
coolly as before. “Once more,” said Zuniga, “give me that nosegay, or I
shall let you know, my fine fellow, whom you have to deal with.” “I
regret much,” said Ozmin, somewhat agitated, “that we are in the King’s
presence; were we any where else, I should not content myself with
refusing you my nosegay, but should force from you that knot of ribbon,
which I perceive at your bosom.” This was the very same knot which the
beautiful Moor had bestowed on Don Alonso, when she accepted him as her
champion; and which Ozmin, who had formerly given it Daraxa, knew but
too well; perceiving, therefore, that the cavalier who spoke to him was
the most formidable of his rivals, he could scarcely restrain his rage
at this discovery. Don Alonso, still more violent than he, lost all
patience at seeing himself threatened by a man whom he considered so
much beneath him: calling him, therefore, an insolent fellow, and
thrusting among the ribbons of his nosegay a sharp-pointed stick, such
as the champions make use of to irritate the bulls, he intended to have
carried off the nosegay and hat together, but the active and vigorous
Ozmin forced the stick from his hand as from a child’s.
Who can express the rage of the proud Zuniga, at having received such an
affront under the eyes of his mistress, and in the King’s presence! He
was no longer master of himself; without any regard to the presence of
their Majesties, he drew his sword; but at the very instant that he was
on the point of rushing like a lion on his enemy, who on his side was
prepared to receive him without fear, the bull came suddenly upon them,
and obliged them to separate. This animal attacked Don Alonso, and threw
him, by one toss, four or five paces off, terribly wounded in the thigh;
which excited the greatest alarm on all sides. To complete the
misfortune, the beast, more enraged than ever, would not quit his
victim, but was preparing to return to the charge; but Ozmin, from a
generous feeling worthy of the warriors of those times, did not hesitate
to fly to the assistance of his rival, notwithstanding what had just
passed between them. With the very stick that he had wrenched from Don
Alonso, he goaded the bull so severely, that he turned all his fury
against him, and bent his head with the intention of goring him with his
horns. The Moor took advantage of the moment, and, hitting him a back
stroke on the neck with his sword, the temper of which he could rely on,
such was the amazing force of the blow, that the animal fell down dead
upon the spot, to the great astonishment of all the spectators.
What had been performed by the Knight of the Blue Scarf passed for a
trifling exploit compared with this, which the disadvantage of fighting
on foot rendered the more glorious; and the acclamations lasted longer
than before. Ozmin evaded by a quick retreat the curiosity of such as
wished to know who he was. The king in vain desired to see him; he was
told that he had just disappeared, and that nobody knew any thing
respecting him.
Let us now return to Daraxa: she had observed the quarrel of the two
rivals, and had been on the point of preventing any fatal consequences
by explaining the whole affair to their Majesties, though at the risk
of the loss of her lover’s liberty: but the terror with which she was
seized on seeing the furious bull come upon them so suddenly, had
completely deprived her of her senses. The acclamations, however, which
were renewed around her, restored her by degrees. Thus this tender lover
passed successively from joy to grief, and from grief to joy; and thus
it is that love ever inflicts some troubles, even amid the transports
that it bestows.
As the adventure respecting the nosegay had commenced just under the
place where the queen was seated, it had not escaped her notice; and
curious to know all the circumstances of it, she took an opportunity,
the very same evening, to request a detail of them from the beautiful
Moor and Donna Elvira de Padilla, who had been together during the
solemnity. Daraxa, thinking it more prudent to allow Elvira to speak,
however much better she herself might have afforded the explanation,
said, that she had paid but little attention to what had passed. Donna
Elvira then was obliged to relate what she had heard and seen; but her
recital rather heightened than satisfied the Queen’s curiosity; no
sooner, therefore, was Don Alonso sufficiently recovered of his wound to
receive visitors, than she requested the old Marquis d’Astorgas to call
upon him, in the hope of obtaining from him the information she desired.
The Marquis, who was a pleasant humorous man, was ushered into Don
Alonso’s chamber, and thus acquitted himself of his commission.
“Well Signor Knight without fear,” said he to Zuniga, “what think you
now of these vile horned animals, who have so little respect for such
fine sparks as you? You will allow that it is better to have nothing to
do with them.” “You could have informed me this, from experience, long
since,” replied Don Alonso, smiling. “But,” continued the Marquis, with
a serious air, “will you not inform me who was the valiant man that
advanced so apropos to your rescue? It is most surprising that amongst
all the heroes of our Court, there was not one sufficiently your friend,
to venture to dispute that honor with him: and yet it is asserted that
you were on the point of fighting with this noble cavalier.” “I know
better than any body my obligations to him,” answered Zuniga, “and the
little cause I had given him to deliver me from so great a danger. All
that I regret,” added he, “is that I do not know him; I am so charmed
with his bravery, and his noble behaviour towards me, that I shall never
be satisfied until I have found some means of ascertaining who he is,
and of convincing him of my gratitude.”
“If this be all that you have to tell me,” said the Marquis, “the Queen
will not gain much information by having sent me hither. She is not
ignorant of the quarrel that you had with the stranger, the beautiful
Moor and Donna Elvira having explained it to her; she thought that you
would be able to satisfy her more fully on the subject; and the whole
Court as well as the Queen are astonished that two cavaliers, after
having performed two such glorious actions, should take as much pains to
conceal themselves, as others generally take to make themselves known.
Ferdinand himself is anxious that they should come forward and receive
the prizes that are destined for them, and especially for the last, who,
according to all appearance, was not a man of any distinguished rank.”
“Judging from his dress,” cried Don Alonso, “I was, at first, of the
same opinion, but I feel convinced of my mistake; whoever he be I will
venture to say, that he is a great man; and I can say no more on the
subject.” The Marquis d’Astorgas, finding that he could gain no further
information from Zuniga, returned to the Queen.
It was believed at Court that all this was not without mystery, and that
Don Alonso, in return for the generosity that he had experienced, would
not betray a cavalier who wished to be incognito. As for Daraxa, nobody
suspected that she was at all privy to the matter; and the concern that
she had evinced during the sports, was attributed solely to the
misfortune of Don Alonso. It was very reasonably thought that she was
kind enough to feel interested for a young nobleman, who was her
champion as well as her adorer. She enjoyed in private the undivided
pleasure of knowing what had happened; but this happiness was
accompanied by the intrusion of many anxious thoughts. She had
distinctly heard what Ozmin had said to his rival about the knot of
ribbon, and she so well knew the delicate feelings of the Moors on such
occasions, that she reproached herself with imprudence for having given
to Zuniga any thing that had been presented to her by so dear a hand.
She could find no excuse for having committed this fault, although her
heart had no participation in it. She could not write to Ozmin, for she
knew not where he was to be found; she could only hope that her lover
would find some means or other of communicating with her. Several days
passed in this sweet yet painful expectation; sometimes she reflected
with pleasure that her future husband was in the same city as herself,
and at other times, was distractedly impatient to see him. Time,
however, brings every thing about.
You have, in all probability, walked in the gardens of the palace of
Seville, and know which is called the upper and which the lower garden;
they are literally two gardens, one above the other: the upper one,
which is supported upon arches, is upon a level with the first floor of
the palace, and is a complete flower garden. The lower garden, which is
the larger of the two, was only open to the men belonging to the Court,
who were permitted to walk there at certain hours. The upper garden was
entirely reserved for the ladies, who frequently walked there to shew
themselves to the gentlemen, with whom they occasionally conversed over
the balustrade which runs about elbow high, quite round the garden; but
these conversations were only permitted when the King and Queen were
absent; in their presence they were obliged to content themselves with
signs. Any gentleman was permitted, however, to sing, even in the
presence of their Majesties, provided he possessed a fine voice. There
were also, occasionally, instrumental concerts, the execution of which
was enchanting.
One evening the beautiful Moor was walking in this garden with her
friend Donna Elvira. They had scarcely taken two turns before they
heard a man singing in so agreeable a strain, that they determined to
listen. They concealed themselves behind some orange-trees that grew
along the balustrade, directly opposite to the singer, whom they could
observe without being seen by him. Elvira was much struck by his
handsome appearance, and Daraxa recognized her Ozmin. Seated on a bank
of turf, with his head reclining negligently against a tree, he sang the
following verses in the Castilian language:--
Wilt thou, stern Jealousy! at once destroy
My life and love, with unrelenting doom?
Why, cruel Fate, this last sad blow employ
To sink me sorrowing to an early tomb?
Absence from her I love hath been the source
Of daily anxious thought, severe to bear;
But now Inconstancy, the Lover’s curse,
Clouds all my hope, and drives me to despair.
Among other excellencies our illustrious Moor was a most accomplished
singer; instead of priding himself, however, upon this quality, he
rather strove to conceal it. Many of the cavaliers at the Court of
Granada speak good Spanish, and even sing in that language; there were
even many Moors who composed verses in Castilian, which were much
admired by the Spanish poets. Those which Ozmin had just been singing
were composed by a Moorish author, and set to music by one of the same
nation. Daraxa doubted not that it alluded to herself; and being
unwilling to lose the opportunity of making a reply, she tore a leaf out
of her pocket-book upon which she wrote the following words:--
“No more uneasiness about the knot of ribbon; the gift was made without
the participation of the heart. Be assured when Daraxa loves, she loves
but once in her life-time; if you wish to know more, you will find Laida
at the palace-gate, at nine to-morrow morning.”
Having folded this leaf up carefully, she threw it into the lower
garden, through the boughs of the orange-trees, which did not conceal
her so perfectly as to prevent Ozmin from perceiving her. He observed
that she had let something fall, which she had done so cautiously, that
her friend had not in the least remarked it, who was, in fact, so much
taken up with admiring and listening to the singer, that she thought of
nothing else. No sooner had he finished his song, than she called to him
to begin again for ladies’ sakes. This request he would willingly have
complied with, but the King had just returned from hunting, which
obliged Daraxa and her friend to return to the palace, to the great
regret of the latter, who did not feel the least desire to quit the
spot.
No sooner had the ladies retired, than Ozmin, curious to know what his
dear Daraxa had thrown towards him, soon found the folded leaf, under
the spot where she had stood to listen to his singing, which he took
up, and quitted the garden hastily, congratulating himself on his good
fortune, and considering how often he should be there in future.
Daraxa’s billet completely restored him to life, and he did not fail to
dispatch Orviedo the next morning to the palace gate, where he met
Laida, who was covered with a thick black veil to prevent her being
known. As soon as she perceived Orviedo, she addressed him, gave him a
letter from her mistress, and received one from Ozmin in return. Before
they separated they had together a conversation long enough to enable
them to give a most satisfactory account to both the lovers. Ozmin’s
letter was full of complaints, and Daraxa’s of protestations of fidelity
and love. They were, however, soon appeased. There is, certainly, a
voluptuous pleasure in the quarrels of lovers; but they ought not to
last long, neither should they too frequently occur, lest they produce
ill effects.
What consolation for our lovers to have found means to establish an
intercourse by letter, and even to see each other occasionally! Daraxa
would gladly have walked alone in the palace gardens, that she might
have conversed more freely with Ozmin; but it was too great a risk. They
must both have been inevitably lost if any person had discovered them.
Besides which, the sight of Ozmin had made so much impression on Elvira,
that she never left her friend, and talked of nothing but the cavalier
who had sung so finely. She herself proposed to her friend, the very
next day, to walk in the garden, in the hope of meeting him there; and
the complaisant Daraxa, who equally desired it, willingly consented to
accompany her.
They left the palace together, and, upon looking into the lower garden,
they perceived that the cavalier had just arrived there, and was seated
in the same place as the day preceding. Donna Elvira, who was one of the
most lovely women at Court, was not content with shewing herself, but
obliged her friend to do the same. Ozmin pretended to be surprised to
see them, and was about to retire; but Elvira commenced a conversation
with him to detain him; he answered, and they all three at length
insensibly engaged in a sprightly discourse, but still only such as a
stranger could hold with two unknown ladies.
Ozmin summoned up all his wit on the occasion, and Elvira’s shone no
less. Animated by the emotions of a rising passion, she said a thousand
smart things, which she could not otherwise have thought of, although
naturally full of wit. Daraxa was content to listen and say nothing. In
short, each of them was well pleased, and time glided away with the
rapidity usual on such agreeable occasions. If Ozmin did not find it
tedious, the ladies, on their side, made it sufficiently evident that
they were not tired of his company, for the King had already returned to
the palace, and they had not once thought of retiring. The gardener put
Ozmin in mind that it was time to leave the garden; but Elvira, before
they separated, fixed, for another interview, the first day that the
King went hunting again.