ship, in which he found about three hundred persons, who had escaped out
of the galleys. He immediately had the vessel he intended to discharge
brought alongside, and had its guns brought on board. Then making a
short speech to the Christians, he ordered them to pass into the
discharged vessel, where they found stores enough for more than a month
and for a greater number of people; and as they embarked he gave each of
them four Spanish crowns, which he sent for to his own ship, in order
partly to relieve their wants when they reached land, which was not far
off; for the lofty mountains of Abyla and Calpe were in sight. They all
thanked him heartily for his generous behaviour, and when they were
nearly all embarked, the same person who had first spoken to him from
the deck of the ship, addressed him, "You would do me a greater service,
valorous sir, in taking me with you to England than in sending me to
Spain; for, though it is my country, and it is but six days since I left
it, I have nothing to look for there but grief and desolation.
"You must know, señor, that at the sack of Cadiz which happened about
fifteen years ago, I lost a daughter, whom the English carried away with
them to England, and with her I lost the comfort of my age and the light
of my eyes, which since she passed from their sight, have never seen
anything to gladden them. Grief for this calamity and for the loss of
my property, of which I was also despoiled, so overcame me that I was no
longer able or willing to apply myself to commerce, in which I had been
so successful that I was commonly reputed to be the richest merchant in
our whole city; and so indeed I was, for, besides my credit, which was
good for many hundred thousand dollars, my estate was worth more than
fifty thousand ducats. I lost all; yet all my losses would have been
nothing had I not lost my daughter. After the general calamity and my
own, want pressed me so hard, that not being able to bear up against it,
myself and my wife--that woe-begone creature sitting yonder--determined
to emigrate to the Indies, the common refuge of the well-born poor. We
embarked six days ago in a packet-ship, but just outside the harbour of
Cadiz we were captured by those two corsairs. This was a new addition to
our affliction; but it would have been greater had not the corsair taken
this Portuguese ship, which fortunately detained them until you came to
our rescue."
In reply to Richard's question what was his daughter's name, the
Spaniard said it was Isabella. This confirmed the suspicion which
Richard had all along entertained, that the person before him was the
father of his beloved mistress. Keeping this fact to himself, he told
the Spaniard that he would willingly take him and his wife to London,
where possibly they might obtain some intelligence about their child.
Taking them both on board his flag-ship, and having sufficiently armed
and manned the Portuguese galleon, he set sail that night, avoiding the
coast of Spain as much as possible, lest he should be intercepted in
consequence of! information given by the liberated captives. Among the
latter there were some twenty Turks, to whom also Richard granted
freedom, to show that his conduct had been the result simply of his
generous disposition, and not of any secret leaning to the Catholics:
and he asked the Spaniards to set the Turks at liberty upon the first
opportunity. The wind, which had blown fresh and fair at first, died
away into a calm, to the dismay of the English, who murmured against
Richard's unseasonable generosity, saying, that the liberated captives
might give information of what had happened, and that if there chanced
to be armed galleons in port, they might sally out and intercept them.
Richard knew that this was quite true, but strove to allay their fears
in the best way he could. But what availed with them more than all his
arguments, was that the wind sprang up again, so that they crowded all
sail, and in nine days reached London, from which they had been only a
month absent on their cruise. Richard would not enter the port with only
joyous demonstrations, on account of the death of his late commander,
but mingled signs of grief with them. At one moment bugles rang out
cheerily, at the next they were answered by melancholy trumpet notes,
and the wailing fife was heard at intervals between the lively rattle of
the drum and the clash of arms. From one mast-head hung a Turkish banner
reversed, and from another a long black streamer, the ends of which
dipped in the water. In this manner he entered the river of London in
his English ship, leaving the Portuguese ship at sea, for want of depth
of water in the river to float it.
These conflicting demonstrations puzzled the vast multitudes, who
observed them from the shore. They easily recognised the smaller vessel
as the flag-ship of Baron Lansac; but they could not make out how it was
that his second vessel had been exchanged for the large and powerful
ship which lay out at sea. But the problem was solved when they saw the
valorous Richard jump into his boat, fully equipped in rich and splendid
armour. Without waiting for any other escort than that of a vast
multitude of the people who followed him, he proceeded on foot to the
palace, where the queen was standing in a balcony, waiting for news of
the ships, and surrounded by her ladies, among whom was Isabella,
dressed in the English style, which became her as well as the Castilian.
A messenger, who had anticipated Richard's arrival, had startled her by
the announcement of his coming, and she stood watching for him with
feelings that fluttered between hope and fear, not knowing whether he
had sped well or ill upon his expedition.
Richard was a young man of noble presence, tall and finely proportioned,
and he looked to great advantage in a complete suit of Milanese armour
all graven and gilded, and instead of a helmet, a wide-leafed fawn
coloured hat with Walloon plumes. Thus equipped, and with his spirited
bearing, to some he seemed like Mars the god of battles; others, struck
by the beauty of his face, compared him to Venus sportively disguised in
the armour of that god. When he came before the Queen he knelt, and gave
a brief account of his expedition.
"After the sudden death of general de Lansac," he said, "I took his
place in pursuance of your Majesty's gracious orders. Shortly afterwards
we discovered two Turkish galleys towing a large ship, which we have
brought home with us. We attacked them; your Majesty's soldiers fought
with great spirit, as they always do, and the corsair galleys went to
the bottom. I liberated in your Majesty's royal name the Christians who
had escaped out of the hands of the Turks, and sent them away in one of
our vessels; and have only brought with me one Spaniard and his wife,
who desired of their own accord to come and behold your Majesty's
greatness. The great ship we took, is one of those which come from the
Portuguese possessions in India; being damaged by a storm, it fell into
the power of the Turks, who took it without any difficulty. According to
the account given by some of the Portuguese on board the ship, her cargo
of spices, and the pearls and diamonds she carries, are worth more than
a million. All is untouched, the Turks not having had time to lay hands
on anything, and I have given orders that the whole should be presented
to your Majesty. There is one jewel alone which, if your Majesty will
bestow it upon me, will leave me your debtor for ten other ships. That
jewel your Majesty has promised me: it is my Isabella, in obtaining whom
I shall be richly rewarded, not only for this service, such as it is,
which I have rendered your Majesty, but for many others which I intend
to perform in order to repay some part of the incalculable amount which
your Majesty will bestow upon me in that jewel."
"Rise, Richard," replied the queen, "and believe me that were I to
deliver Isabella to you in the way of bargain at the price at which I
value her, you could not pay for her with all the wealth of your
prize-ship, nor with what remains in the Indies. I give her to you
because I promised to do so, and because she is worthy of you, and you
of her; your valour alone entitles you to have her. If you have kept the
jewels in the ship for me, I have kept your jewel for you; and though
it may seem to you that I do not do much for you in returning to you
what is your own, I know that I confer upon you a boon the worth of
which is beyond all human computation. Isabella is yours; there she
stands; you may claim her when you will, and I believe that it will be
with her own consent, for she has the good sense to prize your affection
as it deserves. I shall expect you again to-morrow to give me a more
detailed account of your exploits, and bring me those two Spaniards who
wish to see me, that I may gratify their desire." Richard kissed the
queen's hand, and her majesty retired.
The ladies now gathered round Richard, and one of them, the lady Tansi,
who had taken a great liking to Isabella, and who was the liveliest and
most facetious lady of the court, said to him, "What is all this, sir?
Why these arms? Did you, perchance, imagine that you were coming here to
fight your enemies? Believe me, you have none but friends here, unless
it be the lady Isabella, who, as a Spaniard, is bound to bear you no
good will."
"Let her only vouchsafe, Lady Tansi, to have me a little in her
thoughts, and I am sure she will not think of me with ill will; for
ingratitude can have no place in the heart of one so good, so wise, and
so exquisitely fair."
"Since I am to be yours, señor Richard," said Isabella, "claim from me
what you will in recompense for the praises you bestow upon me."
Whilst Isabella and the other ladies were thus conversing with Richard,
there was a little girl present who did nothing but gaze at him, lift up
his cuishes to see what was beneath them, touch his sword, and, with
childlike simplicity, peep at her own image reflected in his bright
armour. When Richard was gone away, she said, turning to the ladies,
"Now I see what a fine thing war must be, since armed men look to such
advantage even among ladies." "Look to advantage!" exclaimed Lady Tansi;
"one might take Richard for the sun, come down from Heaven, to walk the
streets in that garb." Every one laughed at the little girl's remark,
and at Lady Tansi's hyperbole; and there lacked not back-biters, who
thought his appearing in arms at the palace was an act of great
impropriety; but others excused him, saying that it was a very natural
and pardonable act of vanity on the part of a gallant young soldier.
Richard was most cordially welcomed by his parents, relations, and
friends, and that night there were general rejoicings in London. On his
return home, he found Isabella's parents already there, and told his
father and mother who they were, but begged they would give no hint of
the matter to Isabella till he should make it known to her himself. His
desire was punctually observed. That night they began with a great
number of boats and barges, and in presence of a multitude of admiring
spectators, to unload the great galleon, but eight days were consumed in
the work before they had disembowelled it of its aromatic and precious
freight. On the following day, Richard went again to the palace, taking
with him Isabella's father and mother, dressed in the English style,
telling them that the queen wished to see them. They found the queen
surrounded by her ladies, with Isabella by her side, wearing, by the
queen's desire, for Richard's special gratification, the same dress in
which she had made her first appearance at court. Isabella's parents
were filled with admiration and astonishment at such a display of
grandeur and gaiety combined. They looked at Isabella, but did not
recognise her, though their hearts, prophetic of the happiness so near
at hand, began to throb, not anxiously, but with an emotion of joy for
which they could not account.
The queen would not allow Richard to kneel before her, but made him rise
and be seated on a chair which was placed for him alone, an unusual
favour, which provoked many envious comments. "It is not on a chair he
sits," said one, "but on the pepper he has brought." "It is a true
saying," remarked another, "that gifts can soften rocks, since they have
mollified the hard heart of our queen." "He sits at his ease," said a
third, "but there are those who will make bold to push him from his
seat." In fact, that new mark of honour which the queen bestowed on
Richard gave occasion to many to regard him with envy and malice; for
there is no favour which the sovereign bestows on a subject but pierces
the heart of the envious like a lance. In obedience to the queen's
command, Richard narrated more minutely the details of his conflict with
the corsairs, attributing the victory to God, and to the arms of her
valiant soldiers. He extolled them all collectively, and made special
mention of some who had particularly distinguished themselves, in order
that the queen might reward them all and singly. When he came to speak
of his having, in her majesty's name, set the Turks and Christians at
liberty, he said, pointing to Isabella's parents, "These are the persons
of whom I spoke yesterday to your majesty, who, desiring to behold your
greatness, earnestly besought me to bring them away with me. They are
from Cadiz, and from what they have told me, and from what I have myself
observed, I am assured that they are persons of worth and quality."
The queen commanded them to approach her. Isabella raised her eyes to
look at persons who she heard were Spaniards, and, above all, from
Cadiz, longing to know if perchance they were acquainted with her
parents. Her mother first encountered her gaze, and as she looked
attentively at her, there rose on her mind some shadowy confused
reminiscences that seemed to intimate she had seen that face before. Her
father was in the same wavering state of mind, not daring to believe the
evidence of his eyes, whilst Richard watched intently the workings of
their perplexed and dubious souls. The queen too noticed the emotion of
the two strangers, and also Isabella's uneasiness, for she saw her often
raise her hand to her forehead, which was bedewed with perspiration.
Whilst Isabella was longing that the person she imagined to be her
mother would speak, thinking that the sound of her voice would resolve
her doubts, the queen commanded her to ask the strangers in Spanish what
had induced them voluntarily to forego the freedom which Richard had
offered them, since freedom was the thing most prized, not only by
reasonable creatures, but even by irrational animals. Isabella put this
question to her mother, who, without answering a word, rushed abruptly
and almost totteringly to Isabella, and forgetting all respect of place
or circumstances, put her hand to her daughter's right ear, and
discovered a dark mole behind it. Assured now beyond all doubt that
Isabella was her daughter, she cried out, "Child of my heart! treasure
of my soul!" and swooned in her arms. The father, no less tender hearted
but with more self-command, gave no other token of his feelings than the
tears that streamed down his venerable face and beard. With her lips
pressed upon her mother's, Isabella bent her eyes upon her father, with
looks that spoke the gladness of her soul.
The queen was greatly affected by this touching scene, and said to
Richard, "I know not whether you have done wisely in contriving this
meeting, for sudden joy, it is known, can kill as well as grief." Then,
turning to Isabella, she withdrew her from her mother, who, after her
face had been sprinkled with water, came to her senses, and recollecting
herself a little better, fell on her knees before the queen, entreating
her majesty's pardon. Elizabeth graciously replied, and commanded that
the two strangers should take up their abode in the palace, that they
might have the more opportunity of rejoicing in their daughter's
society. Richard then renewed his request that the queen would fulfil
her promise, and bestow Isabella upon him, if so it were that he had
deserved her, but if not, he begged to be sent where he might find
opportunities of doing so.
The queen was well aware that Richard was well satisfied with himself,
and that there was no need of putting him to further proof; she told
him, therefore, that in four days he should obtain the object of his
desires, and that she would honour their union with her royal
countenance. Richard then took his leave of her majesty, his heart
swelling with joy at the near prospect of Isabella becoming his own for
ever. Time sped, but not with the nimbleness he desired; for those who
live on the hopes of pleasure to come, always imagine that time does not
fly, but hobbles on the feet of sloth itself. At last the day came on
which Richard expected, not to end his desires, but to find in Isabella
new graces which should make him love her more, if more was possible.
But in that brief space of time, in which he thought the bark of his
fortunes was running with a prosperous gale towards the desired haven,
it encountered such a fearful tempest, as a thousand times threatened it
with wreck.
The queen's keeper of the robes, who had charge of Isabella, had a son
aged two-and-twenty, named Count Ernest, whom his great wealth, his high
blood, and his mother's great favour with the queen, made too arrogant
and overbearing. He fell most violently in love with Isabella, and,
during Richard's absence, he had made some overtures to her which she
had coldly disregarded. Although repugnance and disdain manifested at
the outset usually make the enamoured desist from their suit, yet
Isabella's notorious disdain had the contrary effect on Ernest, for it
fired his passion, and consumed his sense of honour. He was almost
distracted when he found that the queen had adjudged Isabella to
Richard, and that she was so soon to become his; but before he committed
himself to the infamous and dastardly course which he ultimately
adopted, he first besought his mother to use her influence with the
queen on his behalf, declaring that his death was at hand unless he
obtained Isabella for his wife.
The countess, well knowing her son's violent and arrogant disposition,
and the obstinacy with which he pursued his desires, had reason to fear
that his passion would lead to some unhappy result. With a mother's
natural anxiety to gratify her son's wishes, she promised to speak to
the queen, not with the hope of succeeding in the impossible attempt to
make her majesty break her word, but in order not to sit down in
despair, while any remedy remained to be tried. That morning Isabella
was dressed by the queen's orders with a magnificence which defies
description. With her own hands her majesty put on her neck a string of
the largest pearls found in the galleon, valued at twenty thousand
ducats, and a diamond ring on her finger worth six thousand crowns. But
whilst the ladies were in great glee anticipating the glad time so near
at hand, the keeper of the robes presented herself before the queen, and
implored her on her knees to postpone Isabella's wedding for two days
longer, declaring that if her majesty would only do so, it would more
than reward her for all her past services. The queen desired to know, in
the first instance, why she made that request, so directly at variance
with the royal promise given to Richard; but the countess would not
explain until the queen, urged by curiosity to discover the cause of
this strange request, promised that she would grant it. Having thus
succeeded in her immediate object, the lady keeper made the queen
acquainted with her son's passion, and how, fearing that unless he
obtained Isabella he would commit some desperate deed against himself or
others, she had asked for that delay of two days in order that her
majesty might devise the best means of saving the life of her son. The
queen replied that had she not pledged her royal word, she would have
found a way to smooth over that difficulty, but that, for no
consideration, could she retract her promise or defraud Richard of the
hope she had given him.
The lady keeper reported the queen's answer to her son, but nothing
could overcome his headstrong presumption. Arming himself at all points
he mounted a powerful charger, and presented himself before Clotald's
house, and shouted for Richard to come to the window. Richard was
dressed as a bridegroom, and was on the point of setting out for the
palace with his friends, but hearing himself thus summoned, he went with
some surprise and showed himself at an open window. "Hark you, Richard;
I have something to say to you," said Count Ernest. "Our lady the queen
ordered you to go forth on her service and perform exploits that should
render you worthy of the peerless Isabella. You set out, and returned
with ships laden with wealth, with which you think you have bought your
title to Isabella. But though our lady the queen promised her to you, it
was under the belief that there was no one at her court who could serve
her better than you, or more justly aspire to the fair Spaniard's hand;
but in this it may be that her majesty was mistaken. Being of that
opinion, and holding it for very truth, I say that you have done no such
deeds as can make you worthy of Isabella, nor can you ever perform any
to raise you to that honour; and if you dare to maintain the contrary, I
defy you to the death."
"I am in no wise called upon to take up your defial," replied Richard;
"because I confess not only that I do not merit Isabella, but that no
man living does so. Confessing, therefore, the truth of what you allege,
I say again, that your defial touches not me; nevertheless, I accept it
in order to chastise your insolence." So saying, he left the window and
called for his arms.
Richard's family and the friends who had assembled to escort him to the
palace were thrown into confusion by this untoward incident. The
challenge having been so publicly given, it could not be but that some
one should report it to the queen. This was done accordingly, and her
majesty ordered the captain of her guard to arrest Count Ernest. The
captain made such good speed that he arrived just as Richard was riding
out from his father's house, mounted on a handsome steed, and equipped
with the magnificent arms in which he had gone to pay his respects to
the queen on his return from his expedition. The moment the count saw
the captain of the queen's guard, he guessed his purpose, and resolving
not to let himself be caught, he shouted out, "You see, Richard, how we
are interrupted. If you are bent upon chastising me, you will look for
me as I will look for you. Two people surely meet when they have a
mind." "The sooner the better," said Richard. Meanwhile, the captain of
the guards came up and, in the queen's name, arrested the count, who
surrendered, requesting to be taken into the queen's presence. The
captain complied, and carried Ernest before the queen, who, without
entering into any discourse with him, ordered that he should surrender
his sword and be committed to the Tower.