liked, and there were illuminations, bullfights, and tournaments. The
old woman remained in the house of her pretended grandchild, not
choosing to part from Preciosa. The news reached Madrid, and Don
Francisco de Cárcamo learned that the gipsy bridegroom was his son, and
that Preciosa was the gitanilla he had seen in his house. Her beauty was
an excuse in his eyes for the levity of his son, whom he had supposed to
be lost, having ascertained that he had not gone to Flanders. Besides,
he was the more reconciled when he found what a good match Don Juan had
made with the daughter of so great and wealthy a cavalier as was Don
Fernando de Acevedo. He hastened his departure in order to see his
children, and within twenty days he was in Murcia. His arrival renewed
the general joy; the lives of the pair were related, and the poets of
that city, which numbers some very good ones, took it upon them to
celebrate the extraordinary event along with the incomparable beauty of
the gitanilla; and the licentiate Pozo wrote in such wise, that
Preciosa's fame will endure in his verses whilst the world lasts. I
forgot to mention that the enamoured damsel of the inn owned that the
charge of theft she had preferred against Andrew was not true, and
confessed her love and her crime, for which she was not visited with any
punishment, because the joyous occasion extinguished revenge and
resuscitated clemency.
THE GENEROUS LOVER.
"O lamentable ruins of the ill-fated Nicosia,[76] still moist with the
blood of your valorous and unfortunate defenders! Were you capable of
feeling, we might jointly bewail our disasters in this solitude, and
perhaps find some relief for our sorrows in mutually declaring them. A
hope may remain that your dismantled towers may rise again, though not
for so just a defence as that in which they fell; but I, unfortunate!
what good can I hope for in my wretched distress, even should I return
to my former state? Such is my hard fate, that in freedom I was without
happiness, and in captivity I have no hope of it."
[76] A city of Cyprus, taken from the Venetians by the Turks in 1570.
These words were uttered by a captive Christian as he gazed from an
eminence on the ruined walls of Nicosia; and thus he talked with them,
comparing his miseries with theirs, as if they could understand him,--a
common habit with the afflicted, who, carried away by their
imaginations, say and do things inconsistent with all sense and reason.
Meanwhile there issued from a pavilion or tent, of which there were four
pitched in the plain, a young Turk, of good-humoured and graceful
appearance, who approached the Christian, saying, "I will lay a wager,
friend Ricardo, that the gloomy thoughts you are continually ruminating
have led you to this place."
"It is true," replied Ricardo, for that was the captive's name; "but
what avails it, since, go where I will, I find no relief from them; on
the contrary, the sight of yonder ruins have given them increased
force."
"You mean the ruins of Nicosia?"
"Of course I do, since there are no others visible here."
"Such a sight as that might well move you to tears," said the Turk;
"for any one who saw this famous and plenteous isle of Cyprus about two
years ago, when its inhabitants enjoyed all the felicity that is granted
to mortals, and who now sees them exiled from it, or captive and
wretched, how would it be possible not to mourn over its calamity? But
let us talk no more of these thing's, for which there is no remedy, and
speak of your own, for which I would fain find one. Now I entreat you,
by what you owe me for the good-will I have shown you, and for the fact
that we are of the same country, and were brought up together in
boyhood, that you tell me what is the cause of your inordinate sadness.
For even, admitting that captivity alone is enough to sadden the most
cheerful heart in the world, yet I imagine that your sorrows have a
deeper source; for generous spirits like yours do not yield to ordinary
misfortunes so much as to betray extraordinary grief on account of them.
Besides, I know that you are not so poor as to be unable to pay the sum
demanded for your ransom; nor are you shut up in the castles of the
Black Sea as a captive of consideration, who late or never obtains the
liberty he sighs for. Since, then, you are not deprived of the hope of
freedom, and yet manifest such deep despondency, I cannot help thinking
that it proceeds from some other cause than the loss of your liberty. I
entreat you to tell me what is that cause, and I offer you my help to
the utmost of my means and power. Who knows but that it was in order
that I might serve you that fortune induced me to wear this dress which
I abhor.
"You know, Ricardo, that my master is the cadi (which is the same thing
as the bishop) of this city. You know, too, how great is his power, and
my influence with him. Moreover, you are not ignorant of the ardent
desire I feel not to die in this creed, which I nominally profess; but
if it can be done in no other way, I propose to confess and publicly cry
aloud my faith in Jesus Christ, from which I lapsed by reason of my
youth and want of understanding. Such a confession I know will cost me
my life, which I will give freely, that I may not lose my soul. From all
this I would have you infer, and be assured, that my friendship may be
of some use to you. But that I may know what remedies or palliations
your case may admit of, it is necessary that you explain it to me, as
the sick man does to the doctor, taking my word for it, that I will
maintain the strictest secrecy concerning it."
Ricardo, who had listened in silence all this while, finding himself at
last obliged to reply, did so as follows: "If, as you have guessed
rightly, respecting my misfortune, friend Mahmoud," (that was the Turk's
name,) "so also you could hit upon the remedy for it, I should think my
liberty well lost, and would not exchange my mischance for the greatest
imaginable good fortune. But I know that it is such, that though all the
world should know the cause whence it proceeds, no one ever would make
bold to find for it a remedy, or even an alleviation. That you may be
satisfied of this truth, I will relate my story to you, as briefly as I
can; but before I enter upon the confused labyrinth of my woes, tell me
what is the reason why my master, Hassan Pasha, has caused these
pavilions to be pitched here in the plain, before he enters Nicosia, to
which he has been appointed pasha, as the Turks call their viceroys."
"I will satisfy you briefly," replied Mahmoud. "You must know, then,
that it is the custom among the Turks, for those who are sent as
viceroys of any province, not to enter the city in which their
predecessor dwells until he quits it, and leaves the new comer to take
up his residence freely; and when the new pasha has done so, the old one
remains encamped beyond the walls, waiting the result of the inquiry
into his administration, which is made without his being able to
interfere, and avail himself of bribery or affection, unless he has done
so beforehand. The result of the inquiry, enrolled on a sealed
parchment, is then given to the departing pasha, and this he must
present to the Sublime Porte, that is to say, the court in front of the
grand council of the Turk. It is then read by the vizier pasha and the
four lesser pashas, (or, as we should say, by the president and members
of the royal council,) who punish or reward the bearer according to its
contents; though, if these are not favourable, he buys off his
punishment with money. If there is no accusation against him, and he is
not rewarded, as commonly happens, he obtains by means of presents the
post he most desires; for, at that court, offices are not bestowed by
merit, but for money; everything is bought and sold. The bestowers of
office fleece the receivers; but he who purchases a post, makes enough
by it to purchase another which promises more profit.
"Everything proceeds as I tell you; in this empire all is violence: a
fact which betokens that it will not be durable; but, as I full surely
believe, it is our sins that uphold it, the sins, I mean, of those who
imprudently and forwardly offend God, as I am doing: may he forgive me
in his mercy!
"It is, then, for the reason I have stated that your master, Hassan
Pasha, has been encamped here four days, and if the Pasha of Nicosia has
not come out as he should have done, it is because he has been very ill.
But he is now better, and he will come out to-day or to-morrow without
fail, and lodge in some tents behind this hill, which you have not seen,
after which your master will immediately enter the city. And now I have
replied to the question you put to me."
"Listen, then, to my story," said Ricardo, "but I know not if I shall be
able to fulfil my promise to be brief, since my misfortune is so vast
that it cannot be comprised within any reasonable compass of words.
However, I will do what I may and as time allows. Let me ask you, in the
first place, if you knew in our town of Trapani, a young lady whom fame
pronounced to be the most beautiful woman in Sicily? A young lady, I
say, of whom the most ingenious tongues, and the choicest wits declared
that her beauty was the most perfect ever known in past ages or the
present, or that may be looked for in the future. One, of whom the poets
sang that she had hair of gold, that her eyes were two shining suns, her
cheeks roses, her teeth pearls, her lips rubies, her neck alabaster; and
that every part of her made with the whole, and the whole with every
part, a marvellous harmony and consonance, nature diffusing all over her
such an exquisite sweetness of tone and colour, that envy itself could
not find a fault in her. How is it possible, Mahmoud, that you have not
already named her? Surely you have either not listened to me, or when
you were in Trapani you wanted common sensibility."
"In truth, Ricardo," replied Mahmoud, "if she whom you have depicted in
such glowing colours is not Leonisa, the daughter of Rodolfo Florencio,
I know not who she is, for that lady alone was famed as you have
described."
"Leonisa it is, Mahmoud," exclaimed Ricardo; "Leonisa is the sole cause
of all my bliss and all my sorrow; it is for her, and not for the loss
of liberty, that my eyes pour forth incessant tears, my sighs kindle the
air, and my wailings weary heaven and the ears of men. It is she who
makes me appear in your eyes a madman, or at least a being devoid of
energy and spirit. This Leonisa, so cruel to me, was not so to another,
and this is the cause of my present miserable plight. For you must know
that, from my childhood, or at least from the time I was capable of
understanding, I not only loved, but adored and worshipped her, as
though I knew no other deity on earth. Her parents and relations were
aware of my affection for her, and never showed signs of disapproving
it, for they knew that my designs were honourable and virtuous; and I
know that they often said as much to Leonisa, in order to dispose her to
receive me as her betrothed; but she had set her heart on Cornelio, the
son of Ascanio Rotulo, whom you well know--a spruce young gallant,
_point-de-vice_ in his attire, with white hands, curly locks,
mellifluous voice, amorous discourse--made up, in short, of amber and
sugar-paste, garnished with plumes and brocade. She never cared to
bestow a look on my less dainty face, nor to be touched in the least by
my assiduous courtship; but repaid all my affection with disdain and
abhorrence; whilst my love for her grew to such an extreme, that I
should have deemed my fate most blest if she had killed me by her scorn,
provided she did not bestow open, though maidenly, favours on Cornelio.
Imagine the anguish of my soul, thus lacerated by her disdain, and
tortured by the most cruel jealousy. Leonisa's father and mother winked
at her preference for Cornelio, believing, as they well might, that the
youth, fascinated by her incomparable beauty, would chose her for his
wife, and thus they should have a wealthier son-in-law than myself. That
he might have been; but they would not have had one (without arrogance,
be it said) of better birth than myself, or of nobler sentiments or more
approved worth.
"Well, in the course of my wooing, I learned one day last May, that is
to say, about a year ago, that Leonisa and her parents, Cornelio and
his, accompanied by all their relations and servants had gone to enjoy
themselves in Ascanio's garden, close to the sea shore on the road to
the Saltpits.
"I know the place well," interrupted Mahmoud, "and passed many a merry
day there in better times. Go on, Ricardo."
"The moment I received information of this party, such an infernal fury
of jealousy possessed my soul that I was utterly distraught, as you will
see, by what I straightway did; and that was to go to the garden, where
I found the whole party taking their pleasure, and Cornelio and Leonisa
seated together under a nopal-tree, a little apart from the rest.
"What were their sensations on seeing me I know not, all I know is that
my own were such that a cloud came over my sight, and I was like a
statue without power of speech or motion. But this torpor soon gave way
to choler, which roused my heart's blood, and unlocked my hands and my
tongue. My hands indeed were for a while restrained by respect for that
divine face before me; but my tongue at least broke silence.
"'Now hast thou thy heart's content,' I cried, 'O mortal enemy of my
repose, thine eyes resting with so much composure on the object that
makes mine a perpetual fountain of tears! Closer to him! Closer to him,
cruel girl! Cling like ivy round that worthless trunk. Comb and part the
locks of that new Ganymede, thy lukewarm admirer. Give thyself up wholly
to the capricious boy on whom thy gaze is fixed, so that losing all hope
of winning thee I may lose too the life I abhor. Dost thou imagine,
proud, thoughtless girl, that the laws and usages which are acknowledged
in such cases by all mankind, are to give way for thee alone? Dost thou
imagine that this boy, puffed up with his wealth, vain of his looks,
presuming upon his birth, inexperienced from his youth, can preserve
constancy in love, or be capable of estimating the inestimable, or know
what riper years and experience know? Do not think it. One thing alone
is good in this world, to act always consistently, so that no one be
deceived unless it be by his own ignorance. In extreme youth there is
much inconstancy; in the rich there is pride; in the arrogant, vanity;
in men who value themselves on their beauty, there is disdain; and in
one who unites all these in himself, there is a fatuity which is the
mother of all mischief.
"'As for thee, boy, who thinkest to carry off so safely a prize more
due to my earnest love than to thy idle philandering, why dost thou not
rise from that flowery bank, and tear from my bosom the life which so
abhors thine? And that not for the insult thou puttest upon myself, but
because thou knowest not how to prize the blessing which fortune bestows
upon thee. 'Tis plain, indeed, how little thou esteemest it, since thou
wilt not budge to defend it for fear of ruffling the finical arrangement
of thy pretty attire. Had Achilles been of as placid temper as thou art,
Ulysses would certainly have failed in his attempt, for all his show of
glittering arms and burnished helmets. Go, play among thy mother's
maids; they will help thee to dress thy locks and take care of those
dainty hands that are fitter to wind silk than to handle a sword.'
"In spite of all these taunts Cornelio never stirred from his seat, but
remained perfectly still, staring at me as if he was bewitched. The loud
tones in which I spoke had brought round us all the people who were
walking in the garden, and they arrived in time to hear me assail
Cornelio with many other opprobrious terms. Plucking up heart, at last,
from the presence of numbers, most of whom were his relations, servants,
or friends, he made a show as if he would rise; but before he was on his
feet my sword was out, and I attacked not him only but all who were
before me. The moment Leonisa saw the gleam of my sword she swooned
away, which only exasperated my frantic rage. I know not whether it was
that those whom I assailed contented themselves with acting on the
defensive as against a raving madman, or that it was my own good luck
and adroitness, or Heaven's design to reserve me for greater ills, but
the fact was that I wounded seven or eight of those who came under my
hand. As for Cornelio, he made such good use of his heels that he
escaped me.
"In this imminent danger, surrounded by enemies who were now incensed to
vengeance, I was saved by an extraordinary chance; but better would it
have been to have lost my life on the spot than to be saved in order to
suffer hourly death. On a sudden the garden was invaded by a great
number of Turkish corsairs, who had landed in the neighbourhood without
being perceived by the sentinels in the castles on the coast, or by our
cruisers. As soon as my antagonists descried them they left me, and
escaped with all speed. Of all the persons in the garden the Turks
captured only three, besides Leonisa, who was still in her swoon. As for
me, I fell into their hands after receiving four ugly wounds, which,
however, I had revenged by laying four Turks dead upon the ground.
"The Turks having effected this onslaught with their usual expedition,
returned to their galleys, ill-satisfied with a success which had cost
them so dear. Having set sail they quickly arrived at Fabiana, where
mustering their hands to see who was missing, they found that they had
lost four Levantine soldiers whom they esteemed their best men. They
resolved to revenge the loss on me, and the commander of the galley
immediately ordered the yard-arm to be lowered in order to hang me.
Leonisa was present at all this. She had come to her senses, and seeing
herself in the power of the corsairs, she stood weeping and wringing her
delicate hands, without saying a word, but listening if she could
understand what was said by the Turks. One of the Christian slaves at
the oar told her in Italian that the captain had ordered that Christian
to be hanged, pointing to me, because he had killed in his own defence
four of the best soldiers belonging to the galley. On hearing this,
Leonisa (it was the first time she showed any pity for me) bade the
captive tell the Turks not to hang me, for they would lose a large
ransom, but return at once, to Trapani, where it would be paid them.
This, I say, was the first, as it will also be the last mark of
compassion bestowed on me by Leonisa, and all for my greater woe.
"The Turks believed what the captive told them: interest got the better
of their resentment, and they returned next morning with a flag of
peace. I passed a night of the greatest anguish, not so much from the
pain of my wounds, as from thinking of the danger in which my fair and
cruel enemy was placed among those barbarians. When we arrived at the
town one galley entered the port, the other remained in the offing. The
Christian inhabitants lined the whole shore, and the effeminate Cornelio
stood watching from a distance what was going on in the galley. My
steward immediately came to treat for my ransom, and I told him on no
account to bargain for it but for that of Leonisa, for which he should
offer all I was worth. I furthermore ordered him to return to shore, and
toll Leonisa's parents that they might leave it to him to treat for
their daughter's liberation, and give themselves no trouble about the
matter.
"The chief captain, who was a Greek renegade named Yusuf, demanded six
thousand crowns for Leonisa and four thousand for me, adding that he
would not give up the one without the other. He asked this large sum, as
I afterwards ascertained, because he was in love with Leonisa, and did
not wish to ransom her, but to give me and a thousand crowns to boot to
the other captain, with whom he was bound to share equally whatever
prizes they made, and to keep Leonisa for himself as valued at five
thousand crowns. It was for this reason that he appraised us both at ten
thousand.
"Leonisa's parents made no offer at all, relying on my promise, nor did
Cornelio so much as open his lips on the matter. After much bargaining
my steward agreed to pay five thousand crowns for Leonisa and three for
me, and Yusuf accepted this offer at the persuasion of the other captain
and of all his men. But as my agent had not so large an amount in ready
money, he asked for three days to get it in, being resolved to expend
all I possessed rather than fail to rescue us. Yusuf was glad of this,
thinking that something might possibly occur in the interval to prevent
the completion of the bargain, and he departed for the isle of Fabiana,
saying that in three days he would return for the money. But fortune,
never weary of persecuting me, ordained that a Turkish sentinel descried
from the highest point of the island, far out at sea, six vessels which
appeared to be either the Maltese squadron or one belonging to Sicily.
He ran down to give warning, and as quick as thought the Turks who were
on shore, some cooking their dinners, some washing their linen, embarked
again, heaved anchor, got out their oars, hoisted sail, and heading in
the direction of Barbary, in less than two hours lost sight of the
galleys. I leave you to conjecture, friend Mahmoud, what I suffered in
that voyage, so contrary to my expectation, and more when we arrived the
following day at the south-west of the isle of Pantanalea. There the
Turks landed, and the two captains began to divide all the prizes they
had made. All this was for me a lingering death.
"When Leonisa's turn and mine came, Yusuf gave Fatallah (the other
captain) myself and six other Christians, four of them fit for the oar,
and two very handsome Corsican boys, as an equivalent for Leonisa, whom
he himself retained; Fatallah being content with that arrangement. I was
present at all this, but knew not what they said, though I saw what they
did, nor should I have then understood the nature of the partition, had
not Fatallah come up to me and said in Italian, 'Christian, you now
belong to me; you have cost me two thousand crowns; if you desire your
liberty you must pay me four thousand, or else die here.' I asked him if
the Christian maiden was his also. He said she was not, but that Yusuf
had kept her with the intention to make her a Moor and marry her; and
this was true, for I was told the same thing by one of the Christian
rowers, who understood Turkish very well, and had overheard the
conversation that had passed between Yusuf and Fatallah. I told my
master to take measures for possessing himself of the maiden, and that I
would give him for her ransom alone ten thousand gold crowns. He replied
that it was impossible, but he would let Yusuf know the large sum I had
offered for the Christian girl, and perhaps he would be tempted to
change his intention and ransom her. He did so, and ordered all his crew
to go on board again immediately, for he intended to sail to Tripoli, to
which city he belonged. Yusuf also determined to make for Biserta, and
they all embarked with as much speed as they use when they discover
galleys to give them chase or merchant craft to plunder. They had reason
for this haste, for the weather seemed to be changing, and to threaten a
storm.