Somnia,
terrores magicos, miracula, sagas,Nocturnos
lemures, portentaque.Dreams,
magic terrors, spells of mighty power,Witches,
and ghosts who rove at midnight hour.Horat.
CHAPTER I
——
Lord
Angelo is precise;Stands
at a guard with envy; Scarce confessesThat
his blood flows, or that his appetiteIs
more to bread than stone.Measure
for Measure.Scarcely
had the Abbey Bell tolled for five minutes, and already was the
Church of the Capuchins thronged with Auditors. Do not encourage
the
idea that the Crowd was assembled either from motives of piety or
thirst of information. But very few were influenced by those
reasons;
and in a city where superstition reigns with such despotic sway as
in
Madrid, to seek for true devotion would be a fruitless attempt. The
Audience now assembled in the Capuchin Church was collected by
various causes, but all of them were foreign to the ostensible
motive. The Women came to show themselves, the Men to see the
Women:
Some were attracted by curiosity to hear an Orator so celebrated;
Some came because they had no better means of employing their time
till the play began; Some, from being assured that it would be
impossible to find places in the Church; and one half of Madrid was
brought thither by expecting to meet the other half. The only
persons
truly anxious to hear the Preacher were a few antiquated devotees,
and half a dozen rival Orators, determined to find fault with and
ridicule the discourse. As to the remainder of the Audience, the
Sermon might have been omitted altogether, certainly without their
being disappointed, and very probably without their perceiving the
omission.Whatever
was the occasion, it is at least certain that the Capuchin Church
had
never witnessed a more numerous assembly. Every corner was filled,
every seat was occupied. The very Statues which ornamented the long
aisles were pressed into the service. Boys suspended themselves
upon
the wings of Cherubims; St. Francis and St. Mark bore each a
spectator on his shoulders; and St. Agatha found herself under the
necessity of carrying double. The consequence was, that in spite of
all their hurry and expedition, our two newcomers, on entering the
Church, looked round in vain for places.However,
the old Woman continued to move forwards. In vain were exclamations
of displeasure vented against her from all sides: In vain was She
addressed with—'I assure you, Segnora, there are no places
here.'—'I beg, Segnora, that you will not crowd me so
intolerably!'—'Segnora, you cannot pass this way. Bless me! How can
people be so troublesome!'—The old Woman was obstinate, and on She
went. By dint of perseverance and two brawny arms She made a
passage
through the Crowd, and managed to bustle herself into the very body
of the Church, at no great distance from the Pulpit. Her companion
had followed her with timidity and in silence, profiting by the
exertions of her conductress.'Holy
Virgin!' exclaimed the old Woman in a tone of disappointment, while
She threw a glance of enquiry round her; 'Holy Virgin! What heat!
What a Crowd! I wonder what can be the meaning of all this. I
believe
we must return: There is no such thing as a seat to be had, and
nobody seems kind enough to accommodate us with theirs.'This
broad hint attracted the notice of two Cavaliers, who occupied
stools
on the right hand, and were leaning their backs against the seventh
column from the Pulpit. Both were young, and richly habited.
Hearing
this appeal to their politeness pronounced in a female voice, they
interrupted their conversation to look at the speaker. She had
thrown
up her veil in order to take a clearer look round the Cathedral.
Her
hair was red, and She squinted. The Cavaliers turned round, and
renewed their conversation.'By
all means,' replied the old Woman's companion; 'By all means,
Leonella, let us return home immediately; The heat is excessive,
and
I am terrified at such a crowd.'These
words were pronounced in a tone of unexampled sweetness. The
Cavaliers again broke off their discourse, but for this time they
were not contented with looking up: Both started involuntarily from
their seats, and turned themselves towards the Speaker.The
voice came from a female, the delicacy and elegance of whose figure
inspired the Youths with the most lively curiosity to view the face
to which it belonged. This satisfaction was denied them. Her
features
were hidden by a thick veil; But struggling through the crowd had
deranged it sufficiently to discover a neck which for symmetry and
beauty might have vied with the Medicean Venus. It was of the most
dazzling whiteness, and received additional charms from being
shaded
by the tresses of her long fair hair, which descended in ringlets
to
her waist. Her figure was rather below than above the middle size:
It
was light and airy as that of an Hamadryad. Her bosom was carefully
veiled. Her dress was white; it was fastened by a blue sash, and
just
permitted to peep out from under it a little foot of the most
delicate proportions. A chaplet of large grains hung upon her arm,
and her face was covered with a veil of thick black gauze. Such was
the female, to whom the youngest of the Cavaliers now offered his
seat, while the other thought it necessary to pay the same
attention
to her companion.The
old Lady with many expressions of gratitude, but without much
difficulty, accepted the offer, and seated herself: The young one
followed her example, but made no other compliment than a simple
and
graceful reverence. Don Lorenzo (such was the Cavalier's name,
whose
seat She had accepted) placed himself near her; But first He
whispered a few words in his Friend's ear, who immediately took the
hint, and endeavoured to draw off the old Woman's attention from
her
lovely charge.'You
are doubtless lately arrived at Madrid,' said Lorenzo to his fair
Neighbour; 'It is impossible that such charms should have long
remained unobserved; and had not this been your first public
appearance, the envy of the Women and adoration of the Men would
have
rendered you already sufficiently remarkable.'He
paused, in expectation of an answer. As his speech did not
absolutely
require one, the Lady did not open her lips: After a few moments He
resumed his discourse:'Am
I wrong in supposing you to be a Stranger to Madrid?'The
Lady hesitated; and at last, in so low a voice as to be scarcely
intelligible, She made shift to answer,—'No, Segnor.''Do
you intend making a stay of any length?''Yes,
Segnor.''I
should esteem myself fortunate, were it in my power to contribute
to
making your abode agreeable. I am well known at Madrid, and my
Family
has some interest at Court. If I can be of any service, you cannot
honour or oblige me more than by permitting me to be of use to
you.'—'Surely,' said He to himself, 'She cannot answer that by a
monosyllable; now She must say something to me.'Lorenzo
was deceived, for the Lady answered only by a bow.By
this time He had discovered that his Neighbour was not very
conversible; But whether her silence proceeded from pride,
discretion, timidity, or idiotism, He was still unable to
decide.After
a pause of some minutes—'It is certainly from your being a
Stranger,' said He, 'and as yet unacquainted with our customs, that
you continue to wear your veil. Permit me to remove it.'At
the same time He advanced his hand towards the Gauze: The Lady
raised
hers to prevent him.'I
never unveil in public, Segnor.''And
where is the harm, I pray you?' interrupted her Companion somewhat
sharply; 'Do not you see that the other Ladies have all laid their
veils aside, to do honour no doubt to the holy place in which we
are?
I have taken off mine already; and surely if I expose my features
to
general observation, you have no cause to put yourself in such a
wonderful alarm! Blessed Maria! Here is a fuss and a bustle about a
chit's face! Come, come, Child! Uncover it; I warrant you that
nobody
will run away with it from you—''Dear
aunt, it is not the custom in Murcia.''Murcia,
indeed! Holy St. Barbara, what does that signify? You are always
putting me in mind of that villainous Province. If it is the custom
in Madrid, that is all that we ought to mind, and therefore I
desire
you to take off your veil immediately. Obey me this moment Antonia,
for you know that I cannot bear contradiction—'Her
niece was silent, but made no further opposition to Don Lorenzo's
efforts, who, armed with the Aunt's sanction hastened to remove the
Gauze. What a Seraph's head presented itself to his admiration! Yet
it was rather bewitching than beautiful; It was not so lovely from
regularity of features as from sweetness and sensibility of
Countenance. The several parts of her face considered separately,
many of them were far from handsome; but when examined together,
the
whole was adorable. Her skin though fair was not entirely without
freckles; Her eyes were not very large, nor their lashes
particularly
long. But then her lips were of the most rosy freshness; Her fair
and
undulating hair, confined by a simple ribband, poured itself below
her waist in a profusion of ringlets; Her throat was full and
beautiful in the extreme; Her hand and arm were formed with the
most
perfect symmetry; Her mild blue eyes seemed an heaven of sweetness,
and the crystal in which they moved sparkled with all the
brilliance
of Diamonds: She appeared to be scarcely fifteen; An arch smile,
playing round her mouth, declared her to be possessed of
liveliness,
which excess of timidity at present represt; She looked round her
with a bashful glance; and whenever her eyes accidentally met
Lorenzo's, She dropt them hastily upon her Rosary; Her cheek was
immediately suffused with blushes, and She began to tell her beads;
though her manner evidently showed that She knew not what She was
about.Lorenzo
gazed upon her with mingled surprise and admiration; but the Aunt
thought it necessary to apologize for Antonia's mauvaise
honte.''Tis
a young Creature,' said She, 'who is totally ignorant of the world.
She has been brought up in an old Castle in Murcia; with no other
Society than her Mother's, who, God help her! has no more sense,
good
Soul, than is necessary to carry her Soup to her mouth. Yet She is
my
own Sister, both by Father and Mother.''And
has so little sense?' said Don Christoval with feigned
astonishment;
'How very Extraordinary!''Very
true, Segnor; Is it not strange? However, such is the fact; and yet
only to see the luck of some people! A young Nobleman, of the very
first quality, took it into his head that Elvira had some
pretensions
to Beauty—As to pretensions, in truth, She had always enough of
THEM; But as to Beauty....! If I had only taken half the pains to
set
myself off which She did....! But this is neither here nor there.
As
I was saying, Segnor, a young Nobleman fell in love with her, and
married her unknown to his Father. Their union remained a secret
near
three years, But at last it came to the ears of the old Marquis,
who,
as you may well suppose, was not much pleased with the
intelligence.
Away He posted in all haste to Cordova, determined to seize Elvira,
and send her away to some place or other, where She would never be
heard of more. Holy St. Paul! How He stormed on finding that She
had
escaped him, had joined her Husband, and that they had embarked
together for the Indies. He swore at us all, as if the Evil Spirit
had possessed him; He threw my Father into prison, as honest a
painstaking Shoe-maker as any in Cordova; and when He went away, He
had the cruelty to take from us my Sister's little Boy, then
scarcely
two years old, and whom in the abruptness of her flight, She had
been
obliged to leave behind her. I suppose, that the poor little Wretch
met with bitter bad treatment from him, for in a few months after,
we
received intelligence of his death.''Why,
this was a most terrible old Fellow, Segnora!''Oh!
shocking! and a Man so totally devoid of taste! Why, would you
believe it, Segnor? When I attempted to pacify him, He cursed me
for
a Witch, and wished that to punish the Count, my Sister might
become
as ugly as myself! Ugly indeed! I like him for that.''Ridiculous',
cried Don Christoval; 'Doubtless the Count would have thought
himself
fortunate, had he been permitted to exchange the one Sister for the
other.''Oh!
Christ! Segnor, you are really too polite. However, I am heartily
glad that the Conde was of a different way of thinking. A mighty
pretty piece of business, to be sure, Elvira has made of it! After
broiling and stewing in the Indies for thirteen long years, her
Husband dies, and She returns to Spain, without an House to hide
her
head, or money to procure her one! This Antonia was then but an
Infant, and her only remaining Child. She found that her
Father-in-Law had married again, that he was irreconcileable to the
Conde, and that his second Wife had produced him a Son, who is
reported to be a very fine young Man. The old Marquis refused to
see
my Sister or her Child; But sent her word that on condition of
never
hearing any more of her, He would assign her a small pension, and
She
might live in an old Castle which He possessed in Murcia; This had
been the favourite habitation of his eldest Son; But since his
flight
from Spain, the old Marquis could not bear the place, but let it
fall
to ruin and confusion—My Sister accepted the proposal; She retired
to Murcia, and has remained there till within the last
Month.''And
what brings her now to Madrid?' enquired Don Lorenzo, whom
admiration
of the young Antonia compelled to take a lively interest in the
talkative old Woman's narration.'Alas!
Segnor, her Father-in-Law being lately dead, the Steward of his
Murcian Estates has refused to pay her pension any longer.With
the design of supplicating his Son to renew it, She is now come to
Madrid; But I doubt, that She might have saved herself the trouble!
You young Noblemen have always enough to do with your money, and
are
not very often disposed to throw it away upon old Women. I advised
my
Sister to send Antonia with her petition; But She would not hear of
such a thing. She is so obstinate! Well! She will find herself the
worse for not following my counsels: the Girl has a good pretty
face,
and possibly might have done much.''Ah!
Segnora,' interrupted Don Christoval, counterfeiting a passionate
air; 'If a pretty face will do the business, why has not your
Sister
recourse to you?''Oh!
Jesus! my Lord, I swear you quite overpower me with your gallantry!
But I promise you that I am too well aware of the danger of such
Expeditions to trust myself in a young Nobleman's power! No, no; I
have as yet preserved my reputation without blemish or reproach,
and
I always knew how to keep the Men at a proper distance.''Of
that, Segnora, I have not the least doubt. But permit me to ask
you;
Have you then any aversion to Matrimony?''That
is an home question. I cannot but confess, that if an amiable
Cavalier was to present himself....'Here
She intended to throw a tender and significant look upon Don
Christoval; But, as She unluckily happened to squint most
abominably,
the glance fell directly upon his Companion: Lorenzo took the
compliment to himself, and answered it by a profound bow.'May
I enquire,' said He, 'the name of the Marquis?''The
Marquis de las Cisternas.''I
know him intimately well. He is not at present in Madrid, but is
expected here daily. He is one of the best of Men; and if the
lovely
Antonia will permit me to be her Advocate with him, I doubt not my
being able to make a favourable report of her cause.'Antonia
raised her blue eyes, and silently thanked him for the offer by a
smile of inexpressible sweetness. Leonella's satisfaction was much
more loud and audible: Indeed, as her Niece was generally silent in
her company, She thought it incumbent upon her to talk enough for
both: This She managed without difficulty, for She very seldom
found
herself deficient in words.'Oh!
Segnor!' She cried; 'You will lay our whole family under the most
signal obligations! I accept your offer with all possible
gratitude,
and return you a thousand thanks for the generosity of your
proposal.
Antonia, why do not you speak, Child? While the Cavalier says all
sorts of civil things to you, you sit like a Statue, and never
utter
a syllable of thanks, either bad, good, or indifferent!''My
dear Aunt, I am very sensible that....''Fye,
Niece! How often have I told you, that you never should interrupt a
Person who is speaking!? When did you ever know me do such a thing?
Are these your Murcian manners? Mercy on me! I shall never be able
to
make this Girl any thing like a Person of good breeding. But pray,
Segnor,' She continued, addressing herself to Don Christoval,
'inform
me, why such a Crowd is assembled today in this Cathedral?''Can
you possibly be ignorant, that Ambrosio, Abbot of this Monastery,
pronounces a Sermon in this Church every Thursday? All Madrid rings
with his praises. As yet He has preached but thrice; But all who
have
heard him are so delighted with his eloquence, that it is as
difficult to obtain a place at Church, as at the first
representation
of a new Comedy. His fame certainly must have reached your
ears—''Alas!
Segnor, till yesterday I never had the good fortune to see Madrid;
and at Cordova we are so little informed of what is passing in the
rest of the world, that the name of Ambrosio has never been
mentioned
in its precincts.''You
will find it in every one's mouth at Madrid. He seems to have
fascinated the Inhabitants; and not having attended his Sermons
myself, I am astonished at the Enthusiasm which He has excited. The
adoration paid him both by Young and Old, by Man and Woman is
unexampled. The Grandees load him with presents; Their Wives refuse
to have any other Confessor, and he is known through all the city
by
the name of the "Man of Holiness".''Undoubtedly,
Segnor, He is of noble origin—''That
point still remains undecided. The late Superior of the Capuchins
found him while yet an Infant at the Abbey door. All attempts to
discover who had left him there were vain, and the Child himself
could give no account of his Parents. He was educated in the
Monastery, where He has remained ever since. He early showed a
strong
inclination for study and retirement, and as soon as He was of a
proper age, He pronounced his vows. No one has ever appeared to
claim
him, or clear up the mystery which conceals his birth; and the
Monks,
who find their account in the favour which is shewn to their
establishment from respect to him, have not hesitated to publish
that
He is a present to them from the Virgin. In truth the singular
austerity of his life gives some countenance to the report. He is
now
thirty years old, every hour of which period has been passed in
study, total seclusion from the world, and mortification of the
flesh. Till these last three weeks, when He was chosen superior of
the Society to which He belongs, He had never been on the outside
of
the Abbey walls: Even now He never quits them except on Thursdays,
when He delivers a discourse in this Cathedral which all Madrid
assembles to hear. His knowledge is said to be the most profound,
his
eloquence the most persuasive. In the whole course of his life He
has
never been known to transgress a single rule of his order; The
smallest stain is not to be discovered upon his character; and He
is
reported to be so strict an observer of Chastity, that He knows not
in what consists the difference of Man and Woman. The common People
therefore esteem him to be a Saint.''Does
that make a Saint?' enquired Antonia; 'Bless me! Then am I
one?''Holy
St. Barbara!' exclaimed Leonella; 'What a question! Fye, Child,
Fye!
These are not fit subjects for young Women to handle. You should
not
seem to remember that there is such a thing as a Man in the world,
and you ought to imagine every body to be of the same sex with
yourself. I should like to see you give people to understand, that
you know that a Man has no breasts, and no hips, and no
...'.Luckily
for Antonia's ignorance which her Aunt's lecture would soon have
dispelled, an universal murmur through the Church announced the
Preacher's arrival. Donna Leonella rose from her seat to take a
better view of him, and Antonia followed her example.He
was a Man of noble port and commanding presence. His stature was
lofty, and his features uncommonly handsome. His Nose was aquiline,
his eyes large black and sparkling, and his dark brows almost
joined
together. His complexion was of a deep but clear Brown; Study and
watching had entirely deprived his cheek of colour. Tranquillity
reigned upon his smooth unwrinkled forehead; and Content, expressed
upon every feature, seemed to announce the Man equally unacquainted
with cares and crimes. He bowed himself with humility to the
audience: Still there was a certain severity in his look and manner
that inspired universal awe, and few could sustain the glance of
his
eye at once fiery and penetrating. Such was Ambrosio, Abbot of the
Capuchins, and surnamed, 'The Man of Holiness'.Antonia,
while She gazed upon him eagerly, felt a pleasure fluttering in her
bosom which till then had been unknown to her, and for which She in
vain endeavoured to account. She waited with impatience till the
Sermon should begin; and when at length the Friar spoke, the sound
of
his voice seemed to penetrate into her very soul. Though no other
of
the Spectators felt such violent sensations as did the young
Antonia,
yet every one listened with interest and emotion. They who were
insensible to Religion's merits, were still enchanted with
Ambrosio's
oratory. All found their attention irresistibly attracted while He
spoke, and the most profound silence reigned through the crowded
Aisles.Even
Lorenzo could not resist the charm: He forgot that Antonia was
seated
near him, and listened to the Preacher with undivided
attention.In
language nervous, clear, and simple, the Monk expatiated on the
beauties of Religion. He explained some abstruse parts of the
sacred
writings in a style that carried with it universal conviction. His
voice at once distinct and deep was fraught with all the terrors of
the Tempest, while He inveighed against the vices of humanity, and
described the punishments reserved for them in a future state.
Every
Hearer looked back upon his past offences, and trembled: The
Thunder
seemed to roll, whose bolt was destined to crush him, and the abyss
of eternal destruction to open before his feet. But when Ambrosio,
changing his theme, spoke of the excellence of an unsullied
conscience, of the glorious prospect which Eternity presented to
the
Soul untainted with reproach, and of the recompense which awaited
it
in the regions of everlasting glory, His Auditors felt their
scattered spirits insensibly return. They threw themselves with
confidence upon the mercy of their Judge; They hung with delight
upon
the consoling words of the Preacher; and while his full voice
swelled
into melody, They were transported to those happy regions which He
painted to their imaginations in colours so brilliant and
glowing.The
discourse was of considerable length; Yet when it concluded, the
Audience grieved that it had not lasted longer. Though the Monk had
ceased to speak, enthusiastic silence still prevailed through the
Church: At length the charm gradually dissolving, the general
admiration was expressed in audible terms. As Ambrosio descended
from
the Pulpit, His Auditors crowded round him, loaded him with
blessings, threw themselves at his feet, and kissed the hem of his
Garment. He passed on slowly with his hands crossed devoutly upon
his
bosom, to the door opening into the Abbey Chapel, at which his
Monks
waited to receive him. He ascended the Steps, and then turning
towards his Followers, addressed to them a few words of gratitude,
and exhortation. While He spoke, his Rosary, composed of large
grains
of amber, fell from his hand, and dropped among the surrounding
multitude. It was seized eagerly, and immediately divided amidst
the
Spectators. Whoever became possessor of a Bead, preserved it as a
sacred relique; and had it been the Chaplet of thrice-blessed St.
Francis himself, it could not have been disputed with greater
vivacity. The Abbot, smiling at their eagerness, pronounced his
benediction, and quitted the Church, while humility dwelt upon
every
feature. Dwelt She also in his heart?Antonia's
eyes followed him with anxiety. As the Door closed after him, it
seemed to her as had she lost some one essential to her happiness.
A
tear stole in silence down her cheek.'He
is separated from the world!' said She to herself; 'Perhaps, I
shall
never see him more!'As
she wiped away the tear, Lorenzo observed her action.'Are
you satisfied with our Orator?' said He; 'Or do you think that
Madrid
overrates his talents?'Antonia's
heart was so filled with admiration for the Monk, that She eagerly
seized the opportunity of speaking of him: Besides, as She now no
longer considered Lorenzo as an absolute Stranger, She was less
embarrassed by her excessive timidity.'Oh!
He far exceeds all my expectations,' answered She; 'Till this
moment
I had no idea of the powers of eloquence. But when He spoke, his
voice inspired me with such interest, such esteem, I might almost
say
such affection for him, that I am myself astonished at the
acuteness
of my feelings.'Lorenzo
smiled at the strength of her expressions.'You
are young and just entering into life,' said He; 'Your heart, new
to
the world and full of warmth and sensibility, receives its first
impressions with eagerness. Artless yourself, you suspect not
others
of deceit; and viewing the world through the medium of your own
truth
and innocence, you fancy all who surround you to deserve your
confidence and esteem. What pity, that these gay visions must soon
be
dissipated! What pity, that you must soon discover the baseness of
mankind, and guard against your fellow-creatures as against your
Foes!''Alas!
Segnor,' replied Antonia; 'The misfortunes of my Parents have
already
placed before me but too many sad examples of the perfidy of the
world! Yet surely in the present instance the warmth of sympathy
cannot have deceived me.''In
the present instance, I allow that it has not. Ambrosio's character
is perfectly without reproach; and a Man who has passed the whole
of
his life within the walls of a Convent cannot have found the
opportunity to be guilty, even were He possessed of the
inclination.
But now, when, obliged by the duties of his situation, He must
enter
occasionally into the world, and be thrown into the way of
temptation, it is now that it behoves him to show the brilliance of
his virtue. The trial is dangerous; He is just at that period of
life
when the passions are most vigorous, unbridled, and despotic; His
established reputation will mark him out to Seduction as an
illustrious Victim; Novelty will give additional charms to the
allurements of pleasure; and even the Talents with which Nature has
endowed him will contribute to his ruin, by facilitating the means
of
obtaining his object. Very few would return victorious from a
contest
so severe.''Ah!
surely Ambrosio will be one of those few.''Of
that I have myself no doubt: By all accounts He is an exception to
mankind in general, and Envy would seek in vain for a blot upon his
character.''Segnor,
you delight me by this assurance! It encourages me to indulge my
prepossession in his favour; and you know not with what pain I
should
have repressed the sentiment! Ah! dearest Aunt, entreat my Mother
to
choose him for our Confessor.''I
entreat her?' replied Leonella; 'I promise you that I shall do no
such thing. I do not like this same Ambrosio in the least; He has a
look of severity about him that made me tremble from head to foot:
Were He my Confessor, I should never have the courage to avow one
half of my peccadilloes, and then I should be in a rare condition!
I
never saw such a stern-looking Mortal, and hope that I never shall
see such another. His description of the Devil, God bless us!
almost
terrified me out of my wits, and when He spoke about Sinners He
seemed as if He was ready to eat them.''You
are right, Segnora,' answered Don Christoval; 'Too great severity
is
said to be Ambrosio's only fault. Exempted himself from human
failings, He is not sufficiently indulgent to those of others; and
though strictly just and disinterested in his decisions, his
government of the Monks has already shown some proofs of his
inflexibility. But the crowd is nearly dissipated: Will you permit
us
to attend you home?''Oh!
Christ! Segnor,' exclaimed Leonella affecting to blush; 'I would
not
suffer such a thing for the Universe! If I came home attended by so
gallant a Cavalier, My Sister is so scrupulous that She would read
me
an hour's lecture, and I should never hear the last of it. Besides,
I
rather wish you not to make your proposals just at present.''My
proposals? I assure you, Segnora....''Oh!
Segnor, I believe that your assurances of impatience are all very
true; But really I must desire a little respite. It would not be
quite so delicate in me to accept your hand at first sight.''Accept
my hand? As I hope to live and breathe....''Oh!
dear Segnor, press me no further, if you love me! I shall consider
your obedience as a proof of your affection; You shall hear from me
tomorrow, and so farewell. But pray, Cavaliers, may I not enquire
your names?''My
Friend's,' replied Lorenzo, 'is the Conde d'Ossorio, and mine
Lorenzo
de Medina.'''Tis
sufficient. Well, Don Lorenzo, I shall acquaint my Sister with your
obliging offer, and let you know the result with all expedition.
Where may I send to you?''I
am always to be found at the Medina Palace.''You
may depend upon hearing from me. Farewell, Cavaliers. Segnor Conde,
let me entreat you to moderate the excessive ardour of your
passion:
However, to prove to you that I am not displeased with you, and
prevent your abandoning yourself to despair, receive this mark of
my
affection, and sometimes bestow a thought upon the absent
Leonella.'As
She said this, She extended a lean and wrinkled hand; which her
supposed Admirer kissed with such sorry grace and constraint so
evident, that Lorenzo with difficulty repressed his inclination to
laugh. Leonella then hastened to quit the Church; The lovely
Antonia
followed her in silence; but when She reached the Porch, She turned
involuntarily, and cast back her eyes towards Lorenzo. He bowed to
her, as bidding her farewell; She returned the compliment, and
hastily withdrew.'So,
Lorenzo!' said Don Christoval as soon as they were alone, 'You have
procured me an agreeable Intrigue! To favour your designs upon
Antonia, I obligingly make a few civil speeches which mean nothing
to
the Aunt, and at the end of an hour I find myself upon the brink of
Matrimony! How will you reward me for having suffered so grievously
for your sake? What can repay me for having kissed the leathern paw
of that confounded old Witch? Diavolo! She has left such a scent
upon
my lips that I shall smell of garlick for this month to come! As I
pass along the Prado, I shall be taken for a walking Omelet, or
some
large Onion running to seed!''I
confess, my poor Count,' replied Lorenzo, 'that your service has
been
attended with danger; Yet am I so far from supposing it be past all
endurance that I shall probably solicit you to carry on your amours
still further.''From
that petition I conclude that the little Antonia has made some
impression upon you.''I
cannot express to you how much I am charmed with her. Since my
Father's death, My Uncle the Duke de Medina, has signified to me
his
wishes to see me married; I have till now eluded his hints, and
refused to understand them; But what I have seen this
Evening....''Well?
What have you seen this Evening? Why surely, Don Lorenzo, You
cannot
be mad enough to think of making a Wife out of this Grand-daughter
of
"as honest a painstaking Shoe-maker as any in Cordova"?''You
forget, that She is also the Grand-daughter of the late Marquis de
las Cisternas; But without disputing about birth and titles, I must
assure you, that I never beheld a Woman so interesting as
Antonia.''Very
possibly; But you cannot mean to marry her?''Why
not, my dear Conde? I shall have wealth enough for both of us, and
you know that my Uncle thinks liberally upon the subject.From
what I have seen of Raymond de las Cisternas, I am certain that he
will readily acknowledge Antonia for his Niece. Her birth therefore
will be no objection to my offering her my hand. I should be a
Villain could I think of her on any other terms than marriage; and
in
truth She seems possessed of every quality requisite to make me
happy
in a Wife. Young, lovely, gentle, sensible....''Sensible?
Why, She said nothing but "Yes," and "No".''She
did not say much more, I must confess—But then She always said
"Yes," or "No," in the right place.''Did
She so? Oh! your most obedient! That is using a right Lover's
argument, and I dare dispute no longer with so profound a Casuist.
Suppose we adjourn to the Comedy?''It
is out of my power. I only arrived last night at Madrid, and have
not
yet had an opportunity of seeing my Sister; You know that her
Convent
is in this Street, and I was going thither when the Crowd which I
saw
thronging into this Church excited my curiosity to know what was
the
matter. I shall now pursue my first intention, and probably pass
the
Evening with my Sister at the Parlour grate.''Your
Sister in a Convent, say you? Oh! very true, I had forgotten. And
how
does Donna Agnes? I am amazed, Don Lorenzo, how you could possibly
think of immuring so charming a Girl within the walls of a
Cloister!''I
think of it, Don Christoval? How can you suspect me of such
barbarity? You are conscious that She took the veil by her own
desire, and that particular circumstances made her wish for a
seclusion from the World. I used every means in my power to induce
her to change her resolution; The endeavour was fruitless, and I
lost
a Sister!''The
luckier fellow you; I think, Lorenzo, you were a considerable
gainer
by that loss: If I remember right, Donna Agnes had a portion of ten
thousand pistoles, half of which reverted to your Lordship. By St.
Jago! I wish that I had fifty Sisters in the same predicament. I
should consent to losing them every soul without much
heart-burning—''How,
Conde?' said Lorenzo in an angry voice; 'Do you suppose me base
enough to have influenced my Sister's retirement? Do you suppose
that
the despicable wish to make myself Master of her fortune
could....''Admirable!
Courage, Don Lorenzo! Now the Man is all in a blaze. God grant that
Antonia may soften that fiery temper, or we shall certainly cut
each
other's throat before the Month is over! However, to prevent such a
tragical Catastrophe for the present, I shall make a retreat, and
leave you Master of the field. Farewell, my Knight of Mount Aetna!
Moderate that inflammable disposition, and remember that whenever
it
is necessary to make love to yonder Harridan, you may reckon upon
my
services.'He
said, and darted out of the Cathedral.'How
wild-brained!' said Lorenzo; 'With so excellent an heart, what pity
that He possesses so little solidity of judgment!'The
night was now fast advancing. The Lamps were not yet lighted. The
faint beams of the rising Moon scarcely could pierce through the
gothic obscurity of the Church. Lorenzo found himself unable to
quit
the Spot. The void left in his bosom by Antonia's absence, and his
Sister's sacrifice which Don Christoval had just recalled to his
imagination, created that melancholy of mind which accorded but too
well with the religious gloom surrounding him. He was still leaning
against the seventh column from the Pulpit. A soft and cooling air
breathed along the solitary Aisles: The Moonbeams darting into the
Church through painted windows tinged the fretted roofs and massy
pillars with a thousand various tints of light and colours:Universal
silence prevailed around, only interrupted by the occasional
closing
of Doors in the adjoining Abbey.The
calm of the hour and solitude of the place contributed to nourish
Lorenzo's disposition to melancholy. He threw himself upon a seat
which stood near him, and abandoned himself to the delusions of his
fancy. He thought of his union with Antonia; He thought of the
obstacles which might oppose his wishes; and a thousand changing
visions floated before his fancy, sad 'tis true, but not
unpleasing.
Sleep insensibly stole over him, and the tranquil solemnity of his
mind when awake for a while continued to influence his
slumbers.He
still fancied himself to be in the Church of the Capuchins; but it
was no longer dark and solitary. Multitudes of silver Lamps shed
splendour from the vaulted Roof; Accompanied by the captivating
chaunt of distant choristers, the Organ's melody swelled through
the
Church; The Altar seemed decorated as for some distinguished feast;
It was surrounded by a brilliant Company; and near it stood Antonia
arrayed in bridal white, and blushing with all the charms of Virgin
Modesty.Half
hoping, half fearing, Lorenzo gazed upon the scene before him.
Suddenly the door leading to the Abbey unclosed, and He saw,
attended
by a long train of Monks, the Preacher advance to whom He had just
listened with so much admiration. He drew near Antonia.'And
where is the Bridegroom?' said the imaginary Friar.Antonia
seemed to look round the Church with anxiety. Involuntarily the
Youth
advanced a few steps from his concealment. She saw him; The blush
of
pleasure glowed upon her cheek; With a graceful motion of her hand
She beckoned to him to advance. He disobeyed not the command; He
flew
towards her, and threw himself at her feet.She
retreated for a moment; Then gazing upon him with unutterable
delight;—'Yes!' She exclaimed, 'My Bridegroom! My destined
Bridegroom!' She said, and hastened to throw herself into his arms;
But before He had time to receive her, an Unknown rushed between
them. His form was gigantic; His complexion was swarthy, His eyes
fierce and terrible; his Mouth breathed out volumes of fire; and on
his forehead was written in legible characters—'Pride! Lust!
Inhumanity!'Antonia
shrieked. The Monster clasped her in his arms, and springing with
her
upon the Altar, tortured her with his odious caresses. She
endeavoured in vain to escape from his embrace. Lorenzo flew to her
succour, but ere He had time to reach her, a loud burst of thunder
was heard. Instantly the Cathedral seemed crumbling into pieces;
The
Monks betook themselves to flight, shrieking fearfully; The Lamps
were extinguished, the Altar sank down, and in its place appeared
an
abyss vomiting forth clouds of flame. Uttering a loud and terrible
cry the Monster plunged into the Gulph, and in his fall attempted
to
drag Antonia with him. He strove in vain. Animated by supernatural
powers She disengaged herself from his embrace; But her white Robe
was left in his possession. Instantly a wing of brilliant splendour
spread itself from either of Antonia's arms. She darted upwards,
and
while ascending cried to Lorenzo,'Friend!
we shall meet above!'At
the same moment the Roof of the Cathedral opened; Harmonious voices
pealed along the Vaults; and the glory into which Antonia was
received was composed of rays of such dazzling brightness, that
Lorenzo was unable to sustain the gaze. His sight failed, and He
sank
upon the ground.When
He woke, He found himself extended upon the pavement of the Church:
It was Illuminated, and the chaunt of Hymns sounded from a
distance.
For a while Lorenzo could not persuade himself that what He had
just
witnessed had been a dream, so strong an impression had it made
upon
his fancy. A little recollection convinced him of its fallacy: The
Lamps had been lighted during his sleep, and the music which he
heard
was occasioned by the Monks, who were celebrating their Vespers in
the Abbey Chapel.Lorenzo
rose, and prepared to bend his steps towards his Sister's Convent.
His mind fully occupied by the singularity of his dream, He already
drew near the Porch, when his attention was attracted by perceiving
a
Shadow moving upon the opposite wall. He looked curiously round,
and
soon descried a Man wrapped up in his Cloak, who seemed carefully
examining whether his actions were observed. Very few people are
exempt from the influence of curiosity. The Unknown seemed anxious
to
conceal his business in the Cathedral, and it was this very
circumstance, which made Lorenzo wish to discover what He was
about.Our
Hero was conscious that He had no right to pry into the secrets of
this unknown Cavalier.'I
will go,' said Lorenzo. And Lorenzo stayed, where He was.The
shadow thrown by the Column, effectually concealed him from the
Stranger, who continued to advance with caution. At length He drew
a
letter from beneath his cloak, and hastily placed it beneath a
Colossal Statue of St. Francis. Then retiring with precipitation,
He
concealed himself in a part of the Church at a considerable
distance
from that in which the Image stood.'So!'
said Lorenzo to himself; 'This is only some foolish love affair. I
believe, I may as well be gone, for I can do no good in it.'In
truth till that moment it never came into his head that He could do
any good in it; But He thought it necessary to make some little
excuse to himself for having indulged his curiosity. He now made a
second attempt to retire from the Church: For this time He gained
the
Porch without meeting with any impediment; But it was destined that
He should pay it another visit that night. As He descended the
steps
leading into the Street, a Cavalier rushed against him with such
violence, that Both were nearly overturned by the concussion.
Lorenzo
put his hand to his sword.'How
now, Segnor?' said He; 'What mean you by this rudeness?''Ha!
Is it you, Medina?' replied the Newcomer, whom Lorenzo by his voice
now recognized for Don Christoval; 'You are the luckiest Fellow in
the Universe, not to have left the Church before my return. In, in!
my dear Lad! They will be here immediately!''Who
will be here?''The
old Hen and all her pretty little Chickens! In, I say, and then you
shall know the whole History.'Lorenzo
followed him into the Cathedral, and they concealed themselves
behind
the Statue of St. Francis.'And
now,' said our Hero, 'may I take the liberty of asking, what is the
meaning of all this haste and rapture?''Oh!
Lorenzo, we shall see such a glorious sight! The Prioress of St.
Clare and her whole train of Nuns are coming hither. You are to
know,
that the pious Father Ambrosio (The Lord reward him for it!) will
upon no account move out of his own precincts: It being absolutely
necessary for every fashionable Convent to have him for its
Confessor, the Nuns are in consequence obliged to visit him at the
Abbey; since when the Mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet
must
needs go to the Mountain. Now the Prioress of St. Clare, the better
to escape the gaze of such impure eyes as belong to yourself and
your
humble Servant, thinks proper to bring her holy flock to confession
in the Dusk: She is to be admitted into the Abbey Chapel by yon
private door. The Porteress of St. Clare, who is a worthy old Soul
and a particular Friend of mine, has just assured me of their being
here in a few moments. There is news for you, you Rogue! We shall
see
some of the prettiest faces in Madrid!''In
truth, Christoval, we shall do no such thing. The Nuns are always
veiled.''No!
No! I know better. On entering a place of worship, they ever take
off
their veils from respect to the Saint to whom 'tis dedicated. But
Hark! They are coming! Silence, silence! Observe, and be
convinced.''Good!'
said Lorenzo to himself; 'I may possibly discover to whom the vows
are addressed of this mysterious Stranger.'Scarcely
had Don Christoval ceased to speak, when the Domina of St. Clare
appeared, followed by a long procession of Nuns. Each upon entering
the Church took off her veil. The Prioress crossed her hands upon
her
bosom, and made a profound reverence as She passed the Statue of
St.
Francis, the Patron of this Cathedral. The Nuns followed her
example,
and several moved onwards without having satisfied Lorenzo's
curiosity. He almost began to despair of seeing the mystery cleared
up, when in paying her respects to St. Francis, one of the Nuns
happened to drop her Rosary. As She stooped to pick it up, the
light
flashed full upon her face. At the same moment She dexterously
removed the letter from beneath the Image, placed it in her bosom,
and hastened to resume her rank in the procession.'Ha!'
said Christoval in a low voice; 'Here we have some little Intrigue,
no doubt.''Agnes,
by heaven!' cried Lorenzo.'What,
your Sister? Diavolo! Then somebody, I suppose, will have to pay
for
our peeping.''And
shall pay for it without delay,' replied the incensed
Brother.The
pious procession had now entered the Abbey; The Door was already
closed upon it. The Unknown immediately quitted his concealment and
hastened to leave the Church: Ere He could effect his intention, He
descried Medina stationed in his passage. The Stranger hastily
retreated, and drew his Hat over his eyes.'Attempt
not to fly me!' exclaimed Lorenzo; 'I will know who you are, and
what
were the contents of that Letter.''Of
that Letter?' repeated the Unknown. 'And by what title do you ask
the
question?''By
a title of which I am now ashamed; But it becomes not you to
question
me. Either reply circumstantially to my demands, or answer me with
your Sword.''The
latter method will be the shortest,' rejoined the Other, drawing
his
Rapier; 'Come on, Segnor Bravo! I am ready!'Burning
with rage, Lorenzo hastened to the attack: The Antagonists had
already exchanged several passes before Christoval, who at that
moment had more sense than either of them, could throw himself
between their weapons.'Hold!
Hold! Medina!' He exclaimed; 'Remember the consequences of shedding
blood on consecrated ground!'The
Stranger immediately dropped his Sword.'Medina?'
He cried; 'Great God, is it possible! Lorenzo, have you quite
forgotten Raymond de las Cisternas?'Lorenzo's
astonishment increased with every succeeding moment. Raymond
advanced
towards him, but with a look of suspicion He drew back his hand,
which the Other was preparing to take.'You
here, Marquis? What is the meaning of all this? You engaged in a
clandestine correspondence with my Sister, whose
affections....''Have
ever been, and still are mine. But this is no fit place for an
explanation. Accompany me to my Hotel, and you shall know every
thing. Who is that with you?''One
whom I believe you to have seen before,' replied Don Christoval,
'though probably not at Church.''The
Conde d'Ossorio?''Exactly
so, Marquis.''I
have no objection to entrusting you with my secret, for I am sure
that I may depend upon your silence.''Then
your opinion of me is better than my own, and therefore I must beg
leave to decline your confidence. Do you go your own way, and I
shall
go mine. Marquis, where are you to be found?''As
usual, at the Hotel de las Cisternas; But remember, that I am
incognito, and that if you wish to see me, you must ask for
Alphonso
d'Alvarada.''Good!
Good! Farewell, Cavaliers!' said Don Christoval, and instantly
departed.'You,
Marquis,' said Lorenzo in the accent of surprise; 'You, Alphonso
d'Alvarada?''Even
so, Lorenzo: But unless you have already heard my story from your
Sister, I have much to relate that will astonish you. Follow me,
therefore, to my Hotel without delay.'At
this moment the Porter of the Capuchins entered the Cathedral to
lock
up the doors for the night. The two Noblemen instantly withdrew,
and
hastened with all speed to the Palace de las Cisternas.'Well,
Antonia!' said the Aunt, as soon as She had quitted the Church;
'What
think you of our Gallants? Don Lorenzo really seems a very obliging
good sort of young Man: He paid you some attention, and nobody
knows
what may come of it. But as to Don Christoval, I protest to you, He
is the very Phoenix of politeness. So gallant! so well-bred! So
sensible, and so pathetic! Well! If ever Man can prevail upon me to
break my vow never to marry, it will be that Don Christoval. You
see,
Niece, that every thing turns out exactly as I told you: The very
moment that I produced myself in Madrid, I knew that I should be
surrounded by Admirers. When I took off my veil, did you see,
Antonia, what an effect the action had upon the Conde? And when I
presented him my hand, did you observe the air of passion with
which
He kissed it? If ever I witnessed real love, I then saw it
impressed
upon Don Christoval's countenance!'Now
Antonia had observed the air, with which Don Christoval had kissed
this same hand; But as She drew conclusions from it somewhat
different from her Aunt's, She was wise enough to hold her tongue.
As
this is the only instance known of a Woman's ever having done so,
it
was judged worthy to be recorded here.The
old Lady continued her discourse to Antonia in the same strain,
till
they gained the Street in which was their Lodging. Here a Crowd
collected before their door permitted them not to approach it; and
placing themselves on the opposite side of the Street, they
endeavoured to make out what had drawn all these people together.
After some minutes the Crowd formed itself into a Circle; And now
Antonia perceived in the midst of it a Woman of extraordinary
height,
who whirled herself repeatedly round and round, using all sorts of
extravagant gestures. Her dress was composed of shreds of
various-coloured silks and Linens fantastically arranged, yet not
entirely without taste. Her head was covered with a kind of Turban,
ornamented with vine leaves and wild flowers. She seemed much
sun-burnt, and her complexion was of a deep olive: Her eyes looked
fiery and strange; and in her hand She bore a long black Rod, with
which She at intervals traced a variety of singular figures upon
the
ground, round about which She danced in all the eccentric attitudes
of folly and delirium. Suddenly She broke off her dance, whirled
herself round thrice with rapidity, and after a moment's pause She
sang the following Ballad.THE
GYPSY'S SONGCome,
cross my hand! My art surpasses
All that did ever Mortal know;Come,
Maidens, come! My magic glasses
Your future Husband's form can show:For
'tis to me the power is given
Unclosed the book of Fate to see;To
read the fixed resolves of heaven,
And dive into futurity.I
guide the pale Moon's silver waggon;
The winds in magic bonds I hold;I
charm to sleep the crimson Dragon,
Who loves to watch o'er buried gold:Fenced
round with spells, unhurt I venture
Their sabbath strange where Witches keep;Fearless
the Sorcerer's circle enter,
And woundless tread on snakes asleep.Lo!
Here are charms of mighty power!
This makes secure an Husband's truthAnd
this composed at midnight hour
Will force to love the coldest Youth:If
any Maid too much has granted,
Her loss this Philtre will repair;This
blooms a cheek where red is wanted,
And this will make a brown girl fair!Then
silent hear, while I discover
What I in Fortune's mirror view;And
each, when many a year is over,
Shall own the Gypsy's sayings true.'Dear
Aunt!' said Antonia when the Stranger had finished, 'Is She not
mad?''Mad?
Not She, Child; She is only wicked. She is a Gypsy, a sort of
Vagabond, whose sole occupation is to run about the country telling
lyes, and pilfering from those who come by their money honestly.
Out
upon such Vermin! If I were King of Spain, every one of them should
be burnt alive who was found in my dominions after the next three
weeks.'These
words were pronounced so audibly that they reached the Gypsy's
ears.
She immediately pierced through the Crowd and made towards the
Ladies. She saluted them thrice in the Eastern fashion, and then
addressed herself to Antonia.THE
GYPSY'Lady!
gentle Lady! Know,I
your future fate can show;Give
your hand, and do not fear;Lady!
gentle Lady! hear!''Dearest
Aunt!' said Antonia, 'Indulge me this once! Let me have my fortune
told me!''Nonsense,
Child! She will tell you nothing but falsehoods.''No
matter; Let me at least hear what She has to say. Do, my dear Aunt!
Oblige me, I beseech you!''Well,
well! Antonia, since you are so bent upon the thing, ... Here, good
Woman, you shall see the hands of both of us. There is money for
you,
and now let me hear my fortune.'As
She said this, She drew off her glove, and presented her hand; The
Gypsy looked at it for a moment, and then made this reply.THE
GYPSY'Your
fortune? You are now so old,Good
Dame, that 'tis already told:Yet
for your money, in a triceI
will repay you in advice.Astonished
at your childish vanity,Your
Friends all tax you with insanity,And
grieve to see you use your artTo
catch some youthful Lover's heart.Believe
me, Dame, when all is done,Your
age will still be fifty one;And
Men will rarely take an hintOf
love, from two grey eyes that squint.Take
then my counsels; Lay asideYour
paint and patches, lust and pride,And
on the Poor those sums bestow,Which
now are spent on useless show.Think
on your Maker, not a Suitor;Think
on your past faults, not on future;And
think Time's Scythe will quickly mowThe
few red hairs, which deck your brow.The
audience rang with laughter during the Gypsy's address; and—'fifty
one,'—'squinting eyes,' 'red hair,'—'paint and patches,' &c.
were bandied from mouth to mouth. Leonella was almost choaked with
passion, and loaded her malicious Adviser with the bitterest
reproaches. The swarthy Prophetess for some time listened to her
with
a contemptuous smile: at length She made her a short answer, and
then
turned to Antonia.THE
GYPSY'Peace,
Lady! What I said was true;And
now, my lovely Maid, to you;Give
me your hand, and let me seeYour
future doom, and heaven's decree.'In
imitation of Leonella, Antonia drew off her glove, and presented
her
white hand to the Gypsy, who having gazed upon it for some time
with
a mingled expression of pity and astonishment, pronounced her
Oracle
in the following words.THE
GYPSY'Jesus!
what a palm is there!Chaste,
and gentle, young and fair,Perfect
mind and form possessing,You
would be some good Man's blessing:But
Alas! This line discovers,That
destruction o'er you hovers;Lustful
Man and crafty DevilWill
combine to work your evil;And
from earth by sorrows driven,Soon
your Soul must speed to heaven.Yet
your sufferings to delay,Well
remember what I say.When
you One more virtuous seeThan
belongs to Man to be,One,
whose self no crimes assailing,Pities
not his Neighbour's Failing,Call
the Gypsy's words to mind:Though
He seem so good and kind,Fair
Exteriors oft will hideHearts,
that swell with lust and pride!Lovely
Maid, with tears I leave you!Let
not my prediction grieve you;Rather
with submission bendingCalmly
wait distress impending,And
expect eternal blissIn
a better world than this.Having
said this, the Gypsy again whirled herself round thrice, and then
hastened out of the Street with frantic gesture. The Crowd followed
her; and Elvira's door being now unembarrassed Leonella entered the
House out of honour with the Gypsy, with her Niece, and with the
People; In short with every body, but herself and her charming
Cavalier. The Gypsy's predictions had also considerably affected
Antonia; But the impression soon wore off, and in a few hours She
had
forgotten the adventure as totally as had it never taken
place.