THE ISLAND IN THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA.
Fair and beauteous was the Mediterranean isle whereon the Lady Nisida
had been thrown.
When the morning mists had dispersed, and the sunbeams tinged the ridges
of the hills and the summits of the tallest trees, Nisida awoke as it
were from the profound lethargic reverie in which she had been plunged
for upward of an hour, since the moment when the billows had borne her
safely to the shore.
The temperature of that island was warm and genial, for there eternal
summer reigned, and thus, though her garments were still dripping wet,
Nisida experienced no cold. She rose from the bank of sand whereon she
had been seated, and cast anxious, rapid, and searching glances around
her. Not a human being met her eyes; but in the woods that stretched,
with emerald pride, almost down to the golden sands, the birds and
insects--nature's free commoners--sent forth the sounds of life and
welcomed the advent of the morn with that music of the groves.
The scenery which now presented itself to the contemplation of Nisida
was indescribably beautiful. Richly wooded hills rose towering above
each other with amphitheatrical effect; and behind the verdant panorama
were the blue outlines of pinnacles of naked rocks. But not a trace of
the presence of human beings was to be seen--not a hamlet, nor a
cottage, nor the slightest sign of agriculture! At a short distance lay
a portion of the wreck of the corsair-ship. The fury of the tempest of
the preceding night had thrown it so high upon the shoal whereon it had
struck, and the sea was now comparatively so calm, that Nisida was
enabled to approach close up to it. With little difficulty she succeeded
in reaching the deck,--that deck whose elastic surface lately vibrated
to the tread of many daring, desperate young men--but now desolate and
broken in many parts.
The cabin which had been allotted to her, or rather to which she had
been confined, was in the portion of the wreck that still remained; and
there she found a change of raiment, which Stephano had provided ere the
vessel left Leghorn. Carefully packing up these garments in as small and
portable a compass as possible, she fastened the burden upon her
shoulders by the means of a cord, and, quitting the vessel, conveyed it
safe and dry to the shore.
Then she returned again to the wreck in search of provisions,
considerable quantities of which she fortunately found to be uninjured
by the water; and these she was enabled to transport to the strand by
means of several journeys backward and forward between the shore and the
wreck. The occupation was not only necessary in order to provide the
wherewith to sustain life, but it also abstracted her thoughts from a
too painful contemplation of her position. It was long past the hour of
noon when she had completed her task; and the shore in the immediate
vicinity of the wreck was piled with a miscellaneous assortment of
objects--bags of provisions, weapons of defense, articles of the toilet,
clothing, pieces of canvas, cordage, and carpenter's tools. Then,
wearied with her arduous toils, she laid aside her dripping garments,
bathed her beauteous form in the sea, and attired herself in dry
apparel.
Having partaken of some refreshment, she armed herself with weapons of
defense, and quitting the shore, entered upon that vast amphitheater of
verdure to which we have already slightly alluded. The woods were thick
and tangled; but though, when seen from the shore, they appeared to form
one dense, uninterrupted forest, yet they in reality only dotted the
surface of the islands with numerous detached patches of grove and
copse; and in the intervals were verdant plains or delicious valleys,
exhibiting not the slightest sign of agriculture, but interspersed with
shrubs and trees laden with fruits rich and tempting.
Nature had indeed profusely showered her bounties over that charming
isle; for the trees glowed with their blushing or golden produce, as if
gems were the fruitage of every bough.
Through one of the delicious valleys which Nisida explored, a streamlet,
smooth as a looking-glass, wound its way. To its sunny bank did the lady
repair; and the pebbly bed of the river was seen as plainly through the
limpid waters as an eyeball through a tear.
Though alone was Nisida in that vale, and though many bitter
reflections, deep regrets, and vague apprehensions crowded upon her
soul; yet the liveliness of the scene appeared to diminish the
intenseness of the feelings of utter solitude, and its soft influence
partially lulled the waves of her emotions. For never had mortal eyes
beheld finer fruit upon the trees, nor lovelier flowers upon the soil;
all life was rejoicing, from the grasshopper at her feet to the
feathered songsters in the myrtle, citron, and olive groves; and the
swan glided past to the music of the stream. Above, the heavens were
more clear than her own Italian clime, more blue than any color that
tinges the flowers of the earth.
She roved along the smiling bank which fringed the stream until the
setting sun dyed with the richest purple the rocky pinnacles in the
distance, and made the streamlet glow like a golden flood. And
Nisida--alone, in the radiance and glory of her own charms--alone amidst
all the radiance and glory of the charms of nature--the beauteous Nisida
appeared to be the queen of that Mediterranean isle. But whether it were
really an island or a portion of the three continents which hem in that
tideless ocean, the lady as yet knew not.
Warned by the splendors of the setting sun to retrace her way, she
turned and sped back to the strand, where the stores she had saved from
the wreck were heaped up. When first she had set out upon her exploring
ramble, she had expected every moment to behold human forms--her
fellow-creatures--emerge from the woods; but the more she saw of that
charming spot whereon her destinies had thrown her, the fainter grew the
hope or the fear--we scarcely know which to term the expectation. For no
sign of the presence of man was there; Nature appeared to be the
undisputed empress of that land; and Nisida returned to the shore with
the conviction that she was the sole human inhabitant of this delicious
region.
And now, once more seated upon the strand, while the last beams of the
sun played upon the wide blue waters of the Mediterranean, Nisida
partook of her frugal repast, consisting of the bread supplied by the
wreck and a few fruits which she gathered in the valley. The effects of
the tempest had totally disappeared in respect to the sea, which now lay
stretched in glassy stillness. It seemed as if a holy calm, soft as an
infant's sleep, lay upon the bosom of the Mediterranean, now no longer
terrible with storm, but a mighty emblem of mild majesty and rest!
Nisida thought of the fury which had lately convulsed that sea, now so
placid, and sighed at the conviction which was forced upon her--that no
such calm was for the mortal breast when storms had once been there! For
she pondered on her native land, now, perhaps, far--oh! how far away;
and the images of those whom she loved appeared to rise before
her--Francisco in despair at his sister's unaccountable
disappearance--and Fernand perchance already doomed to die! And tears
flowed down her cheeks, and trickled upon her snowy bosom, gleaming like
dew amongst lilies. Of what avail was the energy of her character in
that land along whose coast stretched the impassable barrier of the sea?
Oh! it was enough to make even the haughty Nisida weep, and to produce a
terrible impression on a mind hitherto acting only in obedience to its
own indomitable will.
Though the sun had set some time, and no moon had yet appeared in the
purple sky, yet was it far from dark. An azure mantle of twilight seemed
to wrap the earth--the sea--the heavens; and so soft, so overpowering
was the influence of the scene and of the night, that slumber gradually
stole upon the lady's eyes. There now, upon the warm sand, slept Nisida;
and when the chaste advent of the moon bathed all in silver, as the sun
had for twelve hours steeped all in gold, the beams of the goddess of
the night played on her charming countenance without awakening her. The
raven masses of her hair lay upon her flushed cheeks like midnight on a
bed of roses, her long black lashes reposed on those cheeks, so
surpassingly lovely with their rich carnation hues. For she dreamt of
Fernand; and her vision was a happy one. Imagination played wild tricks
with the shipwrecked, lonely lady, as if to recompense her for the
waking realities of her sad position. She thought that she was reposing
in the delicious valley which she had explored in the afternoon--she
thought that Fernand was her companion--that she lay in his arms--that
his lips pressed hers--that she was all to him as he was all to her, and
that love's cup of enjoyment was full to the very brim.
But, oh! when she slowly awoke, and under the influence of the
delightful vision, raised her eyes in the dewy light of voluptuous
languor to the blue sky above her, the sunbeams that were heralding in
another day cruelly dispelled the enchanting illusions of a warm and
excited fancy, and Nisida found herself alone on the sea-shore of the
island.
Thus the glory of that sunrise had no charms for her; although never had
the orb of day come forth with greater pomp, nor to shine on a lovelier
scene. No words can convey an idea of the rapid development of every
feature in the landscape, the deeper and deepening tint of the glowing
sky, the roseate hue of the mountain-peaks as they stood out against the
cloudless orient, and the rich emerald shades of the woods sparkling
with fruit. The fragrant rose and the chaste lily, the blushing peony
and the gaudy tulip, and all the choicest flowers of that delicious
clime, expanded into renewed loveliness to greet the sun: and the citron
and the orange, the melon and the grape, the pomegranate and the date
drank in the yellow light to nourish their golden hues.
Nisida's eyes glanced rapidly over the vast expanse of waters, and swept
the horizon: but there was not a sail, nor even a cloud which
imagination might transform into the white wing of a distant ship. And
now upon the golden sand the lovely Nisida put off her garments one by
one: and set at liberty the dark masses of her shining hair, which
floated like an ample veil of raven blackness over the dazzling
whiteness of her skin. Imagination might have invested her forehead with
a halo, so magnificent was the lustrous effect of the sun upon the
silken glossiness of that luxuriant hair.
The Mediterranean was the lady's bath: and, in spite of the oppressive
nature of the waking thoughts which had succeeded her delicious dream,
in spite of that conviction of loneliness which lay like a weight of
lead upon her soul, she disported in the waters like a mermaid.
Now she plunged beneath the surface, which glowed in the sun like a vast
lake of quicksilver: now she stood in a shallow spot, where the water
rippled no higher than her middle, and combed out her dripping tresses;
then she waded further in, and seemed to rejoice in allowing the little
wavelets to kiss her snowy bosom. No fear had she, indeed, no thought of
the monsters of the deep: could the fair surface of the shining water
conceal aught dangerous or aught terrible? Oh! yes, even as beneath that
snowy breast beat a heart stained with crime, often agitated by ardent
and impetuous passions, and devoured by raging desire.
For nearly an hour did Nisida disport in Nature's mighty bath until the
heat of the sun became so intense that she was compelled to return to
the shore and resume her apparel. Then she took some bread in her hand,
and hastened to the groves to pluck the cooling and delicious fruits
whereof there was so marvelous an abundance. She seated herself on a bed
of wild flowers on the shady side of a citron and orange grove,
surrounded by a perfumed air. Before her stretched the valley, like a
vast carpet of bright green velvet fantastically embroidered with
flowers of a thousand varied hues. And in the midst meandered the
crystal stream, with stately swans and an infinite number of other
aquatic birds floating on its bosom. And the birds of the groves, too,
how beautiful were they, and how joyous did they seem! What variegated
plumage did they display, as they flew past the Lady Nisida, unscared by
her presence! Some of them alighted from the overhanging boughs, and as
they descended swept her very hair with their wings; then, almost to
convince her that she was not an unwelcome intruder in that charming
land, they hopped round her, picking up the crumbs of bread which she
scattered about to attract them.
For the loneliness of her condition had already attuned the mind of this
strange being to a susceptibility of deriving amusement from incidents
which a short time previously she would have looked upon as the most
insane triflings;--thus was the weariness of her thoughts relieved by
disporting in the water, as we ere now saw her, or by contemplating the
playfulness of the birds. Presently she wandered into the vale, and
gathered a magnificent nosegay of flowers: then the whim struck her that
she would weave for herself a chaplet of roses; and as her work
progressed, she improved upon it, and fashioned a beauteous diadem of
flowers to protect her head from the scorching noonday sun.
But think not, O reader! that while thus diverting herself with
trivialities of which you would scarcely have deemed the
haughty--imperious--active disposition of Nisida of Riverola to be
capable--think not that her mind was altogether abstracted from
unpleasant thoughts. No--far, very far from that! She was merely
relieved from a portion of that weight which oppressed her; but her
entire burden could not be removed from her soul. There were moments
when her grief amounted almost to despair. Was she doomed to pass the
remainder of her existence in that land? was it really an island and
unknown to navigators? She feared so: for did it join a continent, its
loveliness and fruitfulness would not have permitted it to remain long
unoccupied by those who must of necessity discover it.
And oh! what would her brother think of her absence? what would Fernand
conjecture? And what perils might not at that moment envelop her lover,
while she was not near to succor him by means of her artifice, her
machinations, or her gold. Ten thousand-thousand maledictions upon
Stephano, who was the cause of all her present misery! Ten
thousand-thousand maledictions on her own folly for not having exerted
all her energies and all her faculties to escape from his power, ere she
was conveyed on board the corsair ship, and it was too late!
But useless now were regrets and repinings; for the past could not be
recalled, and the future might have much happiness in store for Nisida.
For oh! sweetest comes the hope which is lured back because its presence
is indispensable; and, oppressed as Nisida was with the weight of her
misfortunes, her soul was too energetic, too sanguine, too impetuous to
yield to despair.
Day after day passed, and still not a ship appeared. Nisida did not
penetrate much further into the island than the valley which we have
described, and whither she was accustomed to repair to gather the
flowers that she wove into diadems. She lingered for the most part near
the shore on which she had been thrown, fearing lest, if away, a ship
might pass in her absence.
Each day she bathed her beauteous form in the Mediterranean; each day
she devoted some little time to the adornment of her person with wreaths
of flowers. She wove crowns for her head--necklaces, bracelets, and
scarfs,--combining the flowers so as to form the most wild and fanciful
devices, and occasionally surveying herself in the natural mirror
afforded her by the limpid stream. Purposely wearing an apparel as
scanty as possible, on account of the oppressive heat which prevailed
during each day of twelve long hours, and which was not materially
moderated at night, she supplied to some extent the place of the
superfluous garments thus thrown aside, by means of tissues of cool,
refreshing, fragrant flowers.
Thus, by the time she had been ten or twelve days upon the island, her
appearance seemed most admirably to correspond with her new and lonely
mode of life, and the spot where her destinies had cast her. Habited in
a single linen garment, confined round the slender waist with a cestus
of flowers, and with light slippers upon her feet, but with a diadem of
roses on her head, and with wreaths round her bare arms, and her equally
bare ankles, she appeared to be the goddess of that island--the genius
of that charming clime of fruits, and verdure, and crystal streams, and
flowers. The majesty of her beauty was softened, and thus enhanced, by
the wonderful simplicity of her attire; the dazzling brilliancy of her
charms was subdued by the chaste, the innocent, the primitive aspect
with which those fantastically woven flowers invested her. Even the
extraordinary luster of her fine dark eyes was moderated by the gaudy
yet elegant assemblage of hues formed by those flowers which she wore.
Was it not strange that she whose soul we have hitherto seen bent on
deeds or schemes of stern and important nature--who never acted without
a motive, and whose mind was far too deeply occupied with worldly cares
and pursuits to bestow a thought on trifles--who, indeed, would have
despised herself had she wasted a moment in toying with a flower, or
watching the playful motions of a bird,--was it not strange that Nisida
should have become so changed as we now find her in that island of which
she was the queen?
Conceive that same Nisida who planned dark plots against Flora
Francatelli, now tripping along the banks of the sunlit stream, bedecked
with flowers and playing with the swans. Imagine that same being, who
dealt death to Agnes, now seated beneath the shade of myrtles and
embowering vines, distributing bread or pomegranate seeds to the birds
that hopped cheerfully around her. Picture to yourself that woman of
majestic beauty, whom you have seen clad in black velvet and wearing a
dark thick veil, now weaving for herself garments of flowers, and
wandering in the lightest possible attire by the seashore, or by the
rippling stream, or amidst the mazes of the fruit-laden groves.
And sometimes, as she sat upon the yellow sand, gazing on the wavelets
of the Mediterranean, that were racing one after another, like living
things from some far off region, to that lovely but lonely isle, it
would seem as if all the low and sweet voices of the sea--never loud and
sullen now, since the night of storm which cast her on that strand--were
heard by her, and made delicious music to her ears! In that island must
we leave her now for a short space,--leave her to her birds, her
flowers, and her mermaid-sports in the sea,--leave her also to her
intervals of dark and dismal thoughts, and to her long, but ineffectual
watchings for the appearance of a sail in the horizon.