Sierpes apacienta el pecho
De una muger ofendida.
_Moreto._
Ah taci! ogni parola
Mi drizza i crini; assei dicesti; basta
Basta cosi, non proseguir.
_Monti_.
Roque made a precipitate retreat from the garden; for, anxious as the
poor fellow was to render any service to Theodora, he still felt no
inclination to incur thereby the displeasure of his master, and draw
upon himself the full measure of his indignation. The valet resolved to
keep a strict silence respecting his interview with Theodora, and he
entertained a belief that the fears of the unfortunate girl would induce
her to follow a similar course. Thus he flattered himself there was
nothing to apprehend farther than the danger of an accidental meeting.
Theodora meantime, a prey to a thousand distracting fears, had locked
herself within her chamber, in a miserable state of hopelessness.
Tormented with various conflicting passions, she now boldly resolved to
meet her perjured lover, and demand an explanation of his cruel and
unnatural conduct; but again she was suddenly checked by an instinctive
dread which seemed to freeze her powers of action. She despondingly
threw herself upon the couch, that gaudy but unconscious witness of her
sorrows, and as the briny drops fell fast from their sad fountains, and
bedewed the rich silken covering, she exclaimed--
"Yes, it was he himself that I beheld last night."
These few words conveyed a portion of that exquisite anguish that gave
them birth.
It was a fearful idea: she had seen her lover a nocturnal visitor to
that garden, his face decked with smiles, and his eyes replete with
pleasure and hope. He was happy, and thought no more of the lost
Theodora. He had forsaken her--her whom he had vowed for ever to love,
and to whom he had pledged his word to acknowledge her as his own before
the world. This was a masterpiece of ingratitude; and yet Theodora hoped
that ingratitude, that blackest stain of the human heart, might have
prompted the dereliction of Gomez Arias, rather than love for another.
To think that she had entirely lost his love, was a pang more cruel than
all she had hitherto endured; and this alas! was the phantom which she
strove in vain to chase away, and that most obtruded upon her mind.
The loquacious Lisarda was not tardy in making a second appearance: she
knocked for admittance, and Theodora, who in her present state was but
little predisposed to encourage her unmeaning chatter, felt nevertheless
an inward desire for the presence of her attendant. By her means she
could acquire a solution of the mystery with which she so much dreaded
to be acquainted, and yet was so anxious to learn. She opened the door,
and Lisarda no sooner entered than with her accustomed volubility she
began--
"Well, well, my gentle lady, you must forgive me certainly; I have
neglected you too long; but then consider, my good lady, what a day this
is: what with the expectation of my master's arrival, and the
preparations for this wedding, the whole palace is thrown into a
marvellous confusion."
"Say no more," replied Theodora; "you need not seek to excuse yourself;
I am but a stranger here, and have no right whatever to engross the
attention of any one, much less on such an occasion as the present."
"Aye, aye," continued Lisarda, "it is indeed a most busy time. Well, the
glorious Don Alonso arrives to-day, and to-morrow his beautiful daughter
will be led to the altar by her gallant bridegroom. Only think, my sweet
lady, what a wedding this will be. The queen and the Maestre de
Calatrava, in the absence of the king, are to be the sponsors."
"That mark of the royal favor," said Theodora, "speaks highly for the
merits of both the parties; but I am yet to learn the name of the
knight who has rendered himself deserving of such an honor."
She pronounced these last words in a faltering tone, and Lisarda, though
a thoughtless woman, soon perceived her agitation.
"_Dios nos defienda_!"[35] she cried, "what ails you, dear lady? you
look so shockingly pale. Well, it is all your fault for being set
against taking counsel; now if you could but be persuaded to admit the
visit of Samuel Mendez, God knows how much you would profit by his
advice; for believe me, lady, the iniquitous Jew cures better than most
of our good Christians."
"I assure you," interrupted Theodora, "that my unwillingness to
acquiesce with your wishes does not arise from the circumstance of the
doctor being a Jew, but merely because my indisposition can receive no
benefit from medicine, whether it be administered by an infidel or a
true believer.--So, I pray you mention no more this Samuel Mendez, but
rather tell me the name of the future partner of Leonor."
"Aye, fortunate indeed, Senora, you may well call him fortunate, for
Dona Leonor is a most accomplished lady, a beautiful lady; and were it
not that she is----"
"She is most accomplished," interrupted Theodora.
"She is in troth," retorted Lisarda, "and so dutiful a daughter withal.
She is now going to meet her noble father in his triumphant entry into
the city, and she will be accompanied by her future husband, and a
numerous and splendid retinue.--But, hark! hear you not the tramp of
horses, and the sound of trumpets?"
She flew to the window, and Theodora, in breathless anxiety, followed.
"There!" cried Lisarda, with glee, "they are about to depart. Now, see,
my lady, Leonor mounts--the bridegroom holds the stirrup."
Theodora cast a terrified look, which shot a pang to her inmost
heart--It was Gomez Arias who helped Leonor to mount. Theodora saw
enough--but one glance, and all the horrors of her fate were revealed.
The deluding smile which had seduced her heart, the traitor eloquent eye
which wrought her ruin, were now devoted to another.
Theodora uttered no piercing shriek; neither did sigh or groan escape
her; but she silently sank backwards in the tranquillity of horror. She
had now nothing else to hope or fear; no throbbing anxiety to
forego,--no further perils to dread--the sum of her misery was complete,
and dauntless she might encounter any disaster; for this last blow had
imparted to her the passive courage of indifference and despair.
Lisarda, occupied with the dazzling objects which moved beneath, did not
perceive Theodora's situation, and without taking her eyes from the
cavalcade pursued her remarks:--
"Now they go--the Lord bless them, how handsome they look! Well, I do
not blame my lady's taste, for certainly Don Lope is the most gallant of
cavaliers. What think you, my sweet lady? Well, certainly they do say
he has many a grievous sin to answer for, in the list of innocent girls
he has seduced and undone: the Lord defend them, poor creatures; I pity
them. But it was surely their fault:--more fools they for trusting to
the fair promises of such a man--what think you gentle lady, am I not
right?"
Happily the cavalcade was now out of sight, and Lisarda's observations
were accordingly cut short. But she immediately turned to Theodora, who
had sat motionless on her couch from the first glance that had
acquainted her with the full extent of her wretchedness.
"Well," said the loquacious waiting maid, "what shall I do to divert
you, lady? Really I am at a loss. If you are not moved by the splendid
sight you have just now witnessed, I cannot imagine what will affect
you. Mayhap I might afford some consolation, since you are so strongly
bent against the assistance of Samuel Mendez."
"Thank you," said Theodora, raising her eyes towards the speaker, "thank
you for your kind intentions, but if anything could tend to the
alleviation of my sorrows, it would be perhaps a free and unmolested
indulgence of them."
"Oh, dear lady, but we must have no sorrowful faces at the wedding.
_Virgen de las Angustias!_ that would be dreadfully ominous. Cheer up,
sweet lady; there is nothing in the world like a good example, and when
you see every one rejoice, I am sure you will not mar the general joy.
Cheer up, good lady--better days will come. To-morrow, at the wedding
festival, your thoughts, I engage, will be fixed on other objects; such
indeed as are interesting to every female who, like ourselves, is yet
blessed in the primeval season of youth. Am I not right?"
"Happy!" cried Theodora, in a thrilling tone, "happy!" Then as if to
veil the effect which her exclamation might produce, she added, "who
can promise themselves happiness in this world?"
"Alack, and that is true!" responded Lisarda, "for many, many are the
lovers who are born to be unfortunate and die of broken hearts." She
strove to swell her own with a mighty sigh: "And even those who marry,
how oft do they curse the day that--but this is neither here nor there."
"To-morrow! and is it really to-morrow, that the ceremony is to take
place?" demanded Theodora.
"There is no doubt of it. God have mercy, the ceremony has been already
delayed too long. The young lovers would have been united some months
since, had not unavoidable impediments retarded the accomplishment of
their mutual wishes."
A clamorous shout, and a burst of trumpets now announced the approach of
Aguilar to Granada, and Lisarda with giddy steps sallied out, leaving
Theodora to the undisturbed enjoyment of her gloomy reflections. The
unfortunate child of Monteblanco had now the most unequivocal proof of
her lover's baseness and treachery: Gomez Arias was faithless, but what
an aggravation of guilt attached to his infidelity! His cold, heartless
villainy seemed to surpass all power of conception, and Theodora for
some time remained like one striving to recall the fleeting illusion of
a horrid dream. Then she clasped her hands fearfully over her swollen
eyelids; a few large drops fell on her cold marbled hands, and in those
eyes flashed the wild resolution of despair.
A bitter smile now gently curled those parched and pallid lips, and she
raised her trembling fingers to her forehead, expressing all the passive
agonies of an absent mind. Then suddenly, as if actuated by a powerful
impulse, she sprung upon her feet: she cautiously drew towards the
casement in a listening attitude, and the names of Aguilar and Gomez
Arias which floated in lengthening sound along the air, threw additional
excitement on her already distracted feelings. But one day more, and she
was to witness the completion of her lover's union with her rival. What
a train of frightful associations this image brought to mind!
Dreadful was the conflict that Theodora had to sustain, and in that
unequal warfare, her whole frame underwent an appalling change: her eyes
glistened, and her hands shook violently, as she threw back with a
resolute movement the tresses of her redundant hair. Again she stopped
as if brooding over some frightful design; her throat became swollen
with hysteric affection; the blood that hitherto had seemed congealed in
its source, rushed with impetuosity down its wonted channels, and the
blue veins through which the little rivulet of life had gently flowed,
now became dark and turbid as the mountain stream. Her eyes shot the
lurid flashes of madness; a wild laugh broke the harmony of the purest
voice; and a malignant curl usurped the place where heavenly smiles had
habitually sat.
Theodora, that soft and seraphic being who but a short time since, rich
in the charms of native grace and loveliness, had been the star of a
happy home, and the delight of a fond and admiring parent--that Theodora
was now changed into the fearful semblance of a frantic being. Alas!
such was the effect that a few moments had wrought, that the eyes of a
fond parent would have in vain endeavoured to recognize his darling
child. Feelings utterly foreign to the nature of Theodora, had now taken
possession of the shattered fragments of a broken heart, once the shrine
of hallowed and mental beauty; and those intelligent, soul-stirring
features which nature had bestowed as the interpreters of soft
sentiments and kindly feelings, now faithfully reflected the workings of
impassioned and frenzied woe.
Alas! it is too often found that the gentle female heart, when rudely
lacerated by the perfidy of man, is capable of being wrought, by a
powerful sense of injury and intense anguish, to the utmost agony which
the darker passions can display.
With irregular steps, which bespoke the confusion of her thoughts, she
paced the silent chamber that gave back with hollow sound the measure
of her steps, while the vaulted passages of the palace echoed at
intervals the deafening shouts that were heard from without.
But the fit of frenzied passion under which Theodora laboured was too
violent to last. That fatal crisis was approaching, which generally
terminates in the immediate accomplishment of a mad suggestion, or with
calmness treasures up in silence some direful resolve. The moment had
now arrived when the forces of the suffering victim were exhausted; she
suddenly became composed; her mind appeared irrevocably fixed on some
act of madness, and despair was stamped in the cold and unearthly
expression which at that moment subdued her whole frame, and apparently
subjected her existence to a new dominion.