therefore agreed to meet the next night to consider what were best to
be done. The next day, as I dressed Baptisto’s wounds, I whispered to
him that I knew his story; but we could come to no plan of escape. We
were steering up towards Genoa, and as we neared the place a galley
came out flying a flag of truce, and our fleet halted to parley. All
the captains assembled on board our vessel, and the embassy from Genoa,
several grave and reverend signors, came on board too. They were come
to offer the exchange of Mahometan captives for Christians, which was
accepted of, but only a few, and those that had been lately taken, were
exchanged: for most of the slaves had no friends in these parts. Among
the rest of the embassy was a man of consideration, who when he was
come on board and his eyes fell on Gabriella could not restrain the hot
tears from coursing down his wrinkled cheeks. She also recognising him
seemed to fall into a swoon; and I soon discovered that this was her
father. The Turks at the beginning would not listen to any offer of
ransom, but at length, being tempted by a large sum, they gave way, and
Gabriella was free to go. But this she refused without Baptisto being
also ransomed; for, as she told her father, he was her husband, and she
intended rather to die than be ransomed and leave him, who was become a
slave for her sake. The old general had a terrible struggle betwixt his
pride and his love for his only daughter, yet in the end he could not
choose but give way: for was it not a greater dishonour to leave his
daughter in captivity among the Turks than to acknowledge her marriage
with Baptisto, who, if poor, at least came of noble family? Moreover,
she was married to him and the marriage could not be undone, so that
even if Baptisto remained in captivity she could never make a great
alliance. Therefore it was that he gave way, and the last I saw of them
was the three going away very lovingly together. I was enraged that
there could be so much ingratitude in the world as to leave me, whom
they seemed not to think of, behind. Had I guessed at it, I would have
informed the Turks of the great riches of the Capellini. But it was too
late, and I was left on board the galley without hope of release, with
the agony of disappointment, and the fear that as soon as we returned
to Algiers I should be recognised and punished for my attempted escape.
The Rais, or Captain-general, was now satisfied with the success of the
expedition, and accordingly the fleet set sail for their respective
ports. But my estate was of the most miserable, for I greatly feared
that I should be recognised when I arrived, and punished, as I have
already related. There was a great concourse at the landing place,
of men quiet and dignified, and of women giving their shrill cries
of joy or ululations. As soon as the prisoners were taken ashore, I
observed the same renegado that deceived so many when I was first
taken; and who, I found, had been on board one of the galleys buying
the slaves from their captors, now busy among the prisoners marshalling
his purchases: and in the bitterness of my heart I bethought me of a
tale to relate whereby I might revenge the Christians he had deceived.
Accordingly, chained at the oar as I was, I cried out in a loud voice
(for by this time I had learned to speak their language so as to be
understood), that I had something to say unto the Dey; at which no
man durst affront me, but my chains were knocked off, and I was led
into the Presence. After that I had made my salaam, I was bidden to
speak; whereupon I said: O Dey! this slave of thine, this Emir Hassan,
hath deceived thee, for there was a great beauty among the prisoners,
whose face was as the full moon, with joined eyebrows, and a body like
the willow wand, so that the sight of her would ravish all beholders.
And then one stood forward, whom I had instructed, and recited the
following verses, which I will do into English:
Her cheeks were smooth and tender, she was delicate and fair,
Like to a pearl hid in its shell, suffused with colour rare;
Her shape like to an Alif, and her smile a medial Mim,
Her body like a willow wand, slender, tall and slim.
Like arrows sharp her glances shot to search out every part,
To water turned the liver, and made roast meat of the heart;
Her eyebrows like inverted Nouns, and arched as Rustem’s bow,
Like Sad beneath her eyes shone out in dulcet tender glow.
Hair in abundance decked her head, and hung down to her feet;
None e’er created lovelier, or for a king more meet!
Praise Allah, who created her a creature of such grace,
And those who sold her for a price, may their lot be disgrace!
This one, I continued, was reserved for thee, O Dey! but the Emir
Hassan loved gold better than thee, and he permitted her to be
ransomed. At this the Dey was very angry, and straightway ordered that
the renegado should be cast into prison, and all his goods plundered,
for none could gainsay what I had said. As for me, the Dey took me
into his particular service, and so I escaped the penalty that my old
master, who had recognised me, was prepared to impose upon me through
the cadi or magistrate of the town.
And here I saw several of the prisoners who were wicked or weak of
heart abjure their religion; and the manner thereof was this. The
renegado is set upon a horse, with his face towards the tail and a bow
and arrow in his hand. After him is carried a picture of the Nazarene
Christ, as they call Him, feet upwards, at which he draws his bow
with the arrow therein; and thus he rides to the place of abjuration,
cursing the father that begat him, the mother that bore him, his
kindred, and his country. Then, coming to the place of oath-taking,
he says: ‘Allah il Allah, Mahomet Rasoul Allah’; and afterwards he is
called a renegado, that is a Christian denying Christ, and turned Turk;
of which sort there are more in Algiers and in Barbary than natural
Turks.
Among the slaves of the Emir Hassan who were seized by the Dey was one,
a Spaniard, with whom I became intimate in this wise. We two, with
many others, were employed as ferrashes, that is as carpet spreaders,
sweepers, and so forth; for in the summer the Dey would desert his
palace and live in tents in airy places where he could best catch the
cooler breezes that blew from the north, and then the whole work of the
camp would be carried on by us. Now, the Ferrash Bashi, or chief of the
Ferrashes, was a Dutchman who had been a pirate, mainly preying upon
those Spanish vessels which came richly laden from the settlements of
Peru, and which, when they had passed all the dangers of the sea and
were near their port, were cruelly taken almost within sight of land:
and these pirates having fast ships, the heavy Spanish men-of-war could
seldom come up with them before they had taken their prizes. I suppose
from the nature of his former vocation the Dutchman looked upon all
Spaniards as his enemies: but whatever might be the reason, he treated
my friend Pablo with a cruelty and brutishness that must have been hard
to bear, as without doubt it was hard for me with the blood of a free
Englishman in me to look upon with coolness. One day this man, who was
called Hendrik vander Stok, being in a more surly mood than usual,
found some fault with the manner in which Pablo had discharged those
duties which appertained to him; and with his courbash or whip of hide
chastised him so terribly that he lay there in his blood without sense
or motion. When I saw this, and saw that even then he would not give
over his blows, I spoke to him and bade him desist; whereupon in his
blind rage he turned and spat in my face, at the same time striking me
with his whip. But the next moment he lay without motion on the ground,
for I had given him a blow behind the ear, and he fell like an ox. He
never moved again, but none but the slaves saw him fall, and therefore
I escaped punishment, for they all hated him, and gave the Turks to
understand that he had died of an apoplexy (and, indeed, he had died
of a stroke) which they the more readily believed seeing that he had
no wound; and moreover they would not be troubled to inquire more
nearly, for they held a slave’s life as a thing of nought. When Pablo
recovered, and learnt that it was I who of my generosity and disregard
of danger of my life had bravely saved his, his gratitude knew no
bounds. Thenceforth he would endeavour to do all my work for me, and
to give him satisfaction, I let him do as much as he could without
observation of the Turks. He would also bring me what food he was able,
which was very acceptable, seeing that our allowance was but scanty,
and would talk with me in his own tongue, which was the only one he
understood, but which I soon picked up by the help of the Italian which
I already knew. He had a lute, which he may have brought with him for
all I know, upon which he played not without skill; and in this he was
encouraged by the Turks; for, although the music of these heathens (if
it may be called by that name) resembles not at all those sweet sounds
which ever delight the ears of polite men and Christians, yet the music
of the Spaniards is somewhat betwixt that of Christians and of Turks.
One day I heard him discourse these verses:
How long, O Death, must I then on thee call?
To most, alas! thou comest all too soon:
To young, to old, to rich and poor, to all
Thou art a curse--to me alone a boon.
Yet, nathless, I’d not have thee take me here:
For if my country I may never see,
That beauteous land that still I hold most dear,
Let it at least afford a grave to me!
My bones can never rest in foreign earth;
If death be sleep, ’tis therefore I can’t die,
Enshrined in that dear soil that gave me birth
Alone ’tis possible for me to lie!
In mine own land the seasons come and go,
Spring blossoms bloom, and autumn leaves do fall;
The Sun still shines, the gentle rivers flow,
And birds still make the woodlands musical.
My absence makes no discontinuance there,
The waters of oblivion close me o’er:
Friends I had once that used to speak me fair--
Now I am gone, they think of me no more.
And yet, not all--there’s one still thinks of me,
Still weeps for me, still watches, and still prays;
And, in my dreams, her tear-dimmed face I see,
That gives me strength to bear my evil days.
This made me curious to hear his history, which without much pressing
he related as follows.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_THE STORY OF PABLO FRAXADO Y RIBADENEYRA_
My father’s name was Antonio Fraxado de Castañeda, and he occupied the
office of master of the mint in the ancient town of Segovia. My mother
came of the noble family of Ribadeneyra, but her I cannot remember,
for she died while I was yet an infant, so that my only experience
of a mother’s love was from my old Catalan nurse, who also served as
housekeeper to my father in his modest dwelling on the banks of the
Eresma, hard by the mint, whose name was Christiana Irurosqui, which
was shortened into la Cria. The household was completed by a boy of
Moorish blood of about my own age, who came the Lord knows whence,
called Pedro el Moro, who served as my playfellow when young, and my
servant when he grew older. My father was a man of retired habits who
seemed to have no friends save a priest called Dom Vicente, who used to
sup with him at least once in the seven days, and with whom he loved to
talk of the nature of the things of this earth, and their virtues and
qualities; for, indeed, it was shrewdly suspected that my father sought
for the philosophers stone, and even dabbled a little in the black art.
Nay, some went so far as to assert that el Moro was a devil that he had
called up, and who now was only biding his time to fly away with his
soul. And yet my father was a pious man who faithfully fulfilled all
the duties of our holy church, and fasted when there were fast days
(which, alas! I thought, came with undue frequency); but nevertheless
it was fortunate for him that no accident had happened at the mill,
or it might have gone hard with him. I loved him greatly, but perhaps
feared him more, for he seldom took any notice of me, and never unbent
before me, or played with me, much less fondled me. Yet when he had
occasion to speak to me he was always kind, and I never had a harsh
word from him.
When I had arrived at the age of nine years, Dom Vicente suggested to
him that it was time that my education should be seen to, and himself
undertook to instruct me in the rudiments of the Latin tongue, for I
was a great favourite of his, and he hoped to make a priest of me.
Moreover he taught me of the hidden secrets of nature, of the precious
stones, and how they engender of the sap or juice of other stones
distilled within crevices; though some, as he told me, who take upon
themselves to sift more narrowly the secrets of nature, affirm that
they are sublimed from the sap or marrow of the precious metals. Of
their divers properties he told me that which they call Nicolaus maketh
him that weareth it sad and melancholic, and so wrests the spirits and
inward parts that it stirs up wonderful passions in the mind. He also
talked of a stone called Opal, most fickle and changing in colour,
which maketh as many perish as wear it; and also of another called
Natron, which, as is wonderful to relate, being cast upon the water
straightway kindles into flame without the help of fire; a thing rather
mystical than agreeing with our capacity. There is also the Ruby, which
chaseth away melancholy, prevents dreams and illusions at night, and
serves as a counterpoison against corrupt air. The Sapphire represents
fire in its most vehement heat, as also the azure sky, being most
calm and clear. For the use of physic, there is no stone of greater
price, seeing that it is of so great virtue by reason of its coldness
that it presently staunches bleeding of the nose, heals the eyes, and,
if placed on the tongue of them that suffer from fever, mortifies the
disease. It also serves as a counterpoison against all venoms, and
defends all infections of the air from such as wear it in pestilent
times. The Hyacinth defends from thunders. The Turquoise chaseth away
all troubles from the brain. He also told me many wonderful things of
fishes: one of the most wondrous things, so miraculous as to be almost
incredible, is that those dumb creatures do lift themselves out of
their moist element to pierce the air as birds do with their wings.
There is also the fish which is called in Latin the Torpedo, which
hath a hidden property which is very strange, for if a man do touch
it with an angle rod, she enchanteth forthwith his arm, so that often
time he is constrained to abandon his prize. There are also fish of the
likeness of men, saving that their skin is like to the slough of an
eel; they have two little horns on the head, and on either hand have
but two fingers. The feet end in a tail, and on the arms are two wings
as a bald mouse hath. Furthermore, he taught of the nature of plants,
as, for instance, of the herb Basil, which, if a man chew and place
under a stone, will straightway engender a scorpion. Also the herb
called Pulicaris hath such a cold virtue that being cast into boiling
water it will kill the heat thereof. The Squilla, if hanged in a house,
delivereth men from charms and sorceries, and the Parsley, by a certain
secret property, engendereth in us the falling sickness. Furthermore,
the Consyre hath so great a virtue to knit and make to grow together
fresh hurts, that being put into a pot with fresh pieces of flesh,
it will knit and join them together. These and many other things he
taught me, very curious, but which I cannot now call to mind; and
being thus well tutored in all learning by Dom Vicente, yet unwilling
to take orders as he wished, my father set me to work in the mill in
the purification of the metals, in which the knowledge that I had
gained was of use. But I liked not the occupation, and would steal away
whenever I was able to the more congenial pursuit of a fair face that
had caught my roving sight through a window grill, the lovely Dolores
Escañuela, who was unfortunately an heiress, and therefore sought after
by all the gallants of Segovia. Scarcely a night passed but what she
was serenaded by some young blade, so that the town musicians had no
rest, neither had she, without she stopped her ears with wool, and what
young maiden would do that to shut out the sweet incense of a serenade?
Frequent were the brawls which took place under her window, insomuch
that her father made complaint to the alcalde; but the alguazils durst
not interfere, for many had their heads broken. As for the young
gallants, it was almost an act of suicide to serenade her unless in a
party of ten or twelve, when some very pretty fighting generally took
place. For my part, I had no friends; for besides the bad odour in
which my father was held for his reputed dealings in the black art,
his retired habits prevented him from making the acquaintance of his
fellow-townsmen, and therefore prevented me from being on familiar
terms with their sons. Nevertheless, so great were the attractions of
Dolores’ charms, that I too, alone as I was, ventured to serenade her
in the following verses:
Alas, arise!
And cast thy eyes
On me, love stricken, that dares thy feet to kiss;
Ah, pity take!
And for love’s sake
List to my suit, and drown me all in bliss
I scarce dare raise
My voice in praise
Of the charms with which so richly thou’rt endued;
Thou wilt not deign
A humble swain
That of so many gallant swains are wooed!
Nathless a youth,
That loves in truth,
Beyond what words can e’er to thee express,
Can never find
Thy heart unkind
To leave him in such dire unhappiness!
Ah, sweetest one!
I am undone:
Give me some sign that thou wilt look on me!
I cannot live
If thou’lt not give
Some token of thy gentle charity!
As I came to the last verse, what was my joy to see a white flower drop
at my feet! I caught it up and covered it with kisses, and was about to
depart in the seventh heaven of happiness, when a band of the retainers
of the Count de Villegas, who was also one of Dolores’ suitors, rushed
upon me, so that I had scarce time to draw my sword to defend myself.
However, I set my back to the wall and did what I could. El Moro had
fled at the first onset, so there was I alone to thrust and parry as
best I could against six; but the odds were too great, and in a short
time I fell covered with blood from several wounds. Undoubtedly I
should have been killed had not several alguazils, hearing the noise
of clashing steel, come just at that moment to the end of the street,
taking good care to leave the other end free for escape, and letting
their presence be known by their flashing lanterns, by striking their
wands on the pavement, and their shouts of ‘Seize the peacebreakers!’
and the like; when, seeing that the Count de Villegas’ men had fled,
and there finding me stretched upon the ground for dead, they were
for carrying me to prison for a brawler. Fortunately for me, Dolores’
father just then came out, who, after examining me, bound up my wounds
with his daughter’s assistance; and recognising me, ordered some of his
servants to carry me home. My father was much grieved at the calamity
which had befallen me, and showed more tenderness than I had hitherto
thought he had. After applying some healing balsam, he and la Cria
set themselves to watching by my bedside in turns, where I was soon
in a raging fever. By the great care of my father, and with the aid
of a good constitution, in about ten days I had so far recovered as
to be out of danger of my life; and as soon as I was strong enough, I
searched through the garments that I had worn on that fateful night
to find my guerdon, the flower which I had thrust into my bosom before
the attack; and though my search was in vain, I nevertheless found
to my great joy a handkerchief embroidered with the first letter of
Dolores’ name, which I supposed she had used for staunching my wounds.
My father still watched by me, and great was my desire to embrace him
and open my heart to him. I think that he would have been pleased
had I done so; but as I grew better, so his stiffness grew upon him
again, and before I could muster courage to address him the opportunity
was lost, he had returned to his ordinary occupations, and the old
relation between us of outward coldness was resumed. It was not so
with la Cria. She was never tired of fondling me, and wishing all the
foulest deaths she could think of to fall on the house of Villegas,
to be followed by eternal punishment in the lowest hell hereafter. To
Dom Vicente, who was a frequent visitor, she would confess her sin of
uncharitableness as he told her that it was; I say, she would confess
it to him every time, in order that she might have a free conscience
to sin again in the same manner directly afterwards. My father wished
to complain before the corregidor of the unprovoked attack, but Dom
Vicente with much ado dissuaded him; for, as he pointed out, in any
case the Count de Villegas would bring all his influence to bear, and
it was not likely that the corregidor would withstand that at the suit
of a plain citizen. He forbore to tell him his more potent reason, that
the vulgar of the town looked askaunt upon him for his supposed magical
powers, and disliked him while they feared him. My father, who was a
man of sense, acknowledged that the advice was good; nevertheless he
fretted that he could not be avenged, and all the more since anything
that disturbed the usual placid course of his life made him quite
unable to follow those pursuits which he so much loved. Had his means
been sufficiently great, he would say, to supply those costly earths,
precious stones, and alembics, and so forth, that he found needful
for his studies, he had left the neighbourhood of cities, and would
have retired to some quiet mountain hermitage, where, undisturbed
by the distractions of the world and the necessity of mingling with
vulgar souls, he might commune with Nature, and win those secrets from
her reluctant hand for which he so greatly thirsted and so patiently
laboured. But, what avails talk like this, he added; there is no peace
in this world. He who hath no relations to distract him, no one to
consider but himself, will pine for the sympathy of his kind. The work
he has done, even the fame he may win, turns to bitterness and gall. He
will ask himself of what use to him is a name known far and wide, to be
remembered even after its bearer is no more, a mere breath associated
with the idea that once a living man owned it, and that too would die
in a few years and be forgotten, only to be remembered now and again by
the curious delvers in the history of the forgotten past. If, on the
other hand, our unfortunate lot gave us friends or relatives to love,
did not their pains, their accidents, their griefs or their misdoings,
fall upon us as though we had the capacity to bear the ills of many
with the physical body of but one? But la Cria had no patience with him
when he was in one of these moods. It is not for us, she would say,
to ask why we are here more than anywhere else, or to repine at the
position in which we are placed. Cry when you are moved to tears, laugh
when you are moved to mirth, hate your enemies and love your friends.
These were the maxims upon which she acted, and accordingly made el
Moro’s life a burden to him with her gibes against him for running
away, in spite of his oaths that he went but to obtain succour,
perceiving that so he might do his master the greater service. On the
other hand, she scraped acquaintance with Dolores’ duenna, and would
bring me news of my mistress which so gladdened my heart that I made a
rapid recovery.
As soon as I was able I went to the Church of the Seven Sorrows,
which I knew was frequented by Dolores, and to my great joy I saw
her, recognising her in spite of her veil, for what veil will not a
lover’s eye pierce? I knelt beside her, and had hardly the patience
to let pass one quarter of an hour before I addressed her. I saw by
her mantling blush that she recognised me as I spoke. ‘Fair lady,’ I
began, ‘it seems that the Saints take pity on those that truly love,
since I have the felicity to meet you here, the sight of whom is life.
I beseech you excuse me if, having ended my devotions, I begin to pray
you to take pity upon me, whose flame is so ardent and affection so
passionate, as either I must live yours or not die my own.’ To this
Dolores answered: ‘Sir, since your devotions can neither be pleasing
to God nor profitable to your soul if you come here merely to have
speech with me, so it would be equally sinful in me to reply to your
civil speeches either as your present action or real merit deserves.’
I was not so great a novice in the art of love as to be put off with
the first rebuff, but rather seeing that the perfection of her mind
corresponded with the beauty of her form, resolved to return to the
charge, and therefore boarded her thus: ‘Sweet lady, where can truth
be more fitly spoken than in the temple of truth, or where else could
my hard lot afford me an opportunity of speech with one who hath the
power, so great is my devotion, to make me brave all the evil of this
world or the next? If you will not have me speak to you here, until,
as I ardently hope, you condescend to plight your vows to me before
the altar, at least give an opportunity of speaking to you elsewhere,
that I may assure you of my unfeigned love and undying devotion.’ At
this, Dolores, repenting her of her harshness towards me, replied:
‘Noble sir, when I am as well acquainted with your heart as with your
speeches I may perhaps pardon your indiscretion in thus addressing me,
and since I may have wronged your merits and virtues, if you will be at
the wicket gate of my father’s house soon after the first watch of the
night, I will give you then an opportunity to explain your intent at
greater length.’ So saying, she bowed to me, and going forth, left me
in so happy and eager a state that I scarce knew what I did, but only
that the day seemed to be the longest that I had ever passed.