CHAPTER II.
"Leave to the nightingale her shady wood: A privacy of glorious light is thine; Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood Of harmony, with rapture more divine; Type of the wise, who soar, but never roam; True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home."
Wordsworth.
While John of Aragon had recourse to such means to enable his son toescape the vigilant and vindictive emissaries of the King of Castile,there were anxious hearts in Valladolid, awaiting the result with theimpatience and doubt that ever attend the execution of hazardousenterprises. Among others who felt this deep interest in the movementsof Ferdinand of Aragon and his companions, were a few whom it has nowbecome necessary to introduce to the reader.
Although Valladolid had not then reached the magnificence itsubsequently acquired as the capital of Charles V., it was an ancient,and, for the age, a magnificent and luxurious town, possessing itspalaces, as well as its more inferior abodes. To the principal of theformer, the residence of John de Vivero--a distinguished noble of thekingdom--we must repair in imagination; where companions more agreeablethan those we have just quitted, await us, and who were then themselvesawaiting, with deep anxiety, the arrival of a messenger with tidingsfrom Duenas. The particular apartment that it will be necessary toimagine, had much of the rude splendor of the period, united to that airof comfort and fitness that woman seldom fails to impart to the portionof any edifice that comes directly under her control. In the year 1469,Spain was fast approaching the termination of that great struggle whichhad already endured seven centuries, and in which the Christian and theMussulman contended for the mastery of the peninsula. The latter hadlong held sway in the southern parts of Leon, and had left behind him,in the palaces of this town, some of the traces of his barbaricmagnificence. The lofty and fretted ceilings were not as glorious asthose to be found further south, it is true; still, the Moor had beenhere, and the name of Veled Vlid--since changed to Valladolid--denotesits Arabic connection. In the room just mentioned, and in the principalpalace of this ancient town--that of John de Vivero--were two females,in earnest and engrossing discourse. Both were young, and, though invery different styles, both would have been deemed beautiful in any ageor region of the earth. One, indeed, was surpassingly lovely. She hadjust reached her nineteenth year--an age when the female form hasreceived its full development in that generous climate; and the mostimaginative poet of Spain--a country so renowned for beauty of form inthe sex--could not have conceived of a person more symmetrical. Thehands, feet, bust, and all the outlines, were those of feminineloveliness; while the stature, without rising to a height to suggest theidea of any thing masculine, was sufficient to ennoble an air of quietdignity. The beholder, at first, was a little at a loss to know whetherthe influence to which he submitted, proceeded most from the perfectionof the body itself, or from the expression that the soul within impartedto the almost faultless exterior. The face was, in all respects, worthyof the form. Although born beneath the sun of Spain, her lineage carriedher back, through a long line of kings, to the Gothic sovereigns; andits frequent intermarriages with foreign princesses, had produced in hercountenance that intermixture of the brilliancy of the north with thewitchery of the south, that probably is nearest to the perfection offeminine loveliness.
Her complexion was fair, and her rich locks had that tint of the auburnwhich approaches as near as possible to the more marked color that givesit warmth, without attaining any of the latter's distinctive hue. "Hermild blue eyes," says an eminent historian, "beamed with intelligenceand sensibility." In these indexes to the soul, indeed, were to be foundher highest claims to loveliness, for they bespoke no less the beautywithin, than the beauty without; imparting to features of exquisitedelicacy and symmetry, a serene expression of dignity and moralexcellence, that was remarkably softened by a modesty that seemed asmuch allied to the sensibilities of a woman, as to the purity of anangel. To add to all these charms, though of royal blood, and educatedin a court, an earnest, but meek sincerity presided over every look andthought--as thought was betrayed in the countenance--adding theillumination of truth to the lustre of youth and beauty.
The attire of this princess was simple, for, happily, the taste of theage enabled those who worked for the toilet to consult the proportionsof nature; though the materials were rich, and such as became her highrank. A single cross of diamonds sparkled on a neck of snow, to which itwas attached by a short string of pearls; and a few rings, decked withstones of price, rather cumbered than adorned hands that needed noornaments to rivet the gaze. Such was Isabella of Castile, in her daysof maiden retirement and maiden pride--while waiting the issues of thosechanges that were about to put their seal on her own future fortunes, aswell as on those of posterity even to our own times.
Her companion was Beatriz de Bobadilla, the friend of her childhood andinfancy, and who continued, to the last, the friend of her prime, and ofher death-bed. This lady, a little older than the princess, was of moredecided Spanish mien, for, though of an ancient and illustrious house,policy and necessity had not caused so many foreign intermarriages inher race, as had been required in that of her royal mistress. Her eyeswere black and sparkling, bespeaking a generous soul, and a resolutionso high that some commentators have termed it valor; while her hair wasdark as the raven's wing. Like that of her royal mistress, her formexhibited the grace and loveliness of young womanhood, developed by thegenerous warmth of Spain; though her stature was, in a slight degree,less noble, and the outlines of her figure, in about an equalproportion, less perfect. In short, nature had drawn some suchdistinction between the exceeding grace and high moral charms thatencircled the beauty of the princess, and those which belonged to hernoble friend, as the notions of men had established between theirrespective conditions; though, considered singly, as women, either wouldhave been deemed pre-eminently winning and attractive.
At the moment we have selected for the opening of the scene that is tofollow, Isabella, fresh from the morning toilet, was seated in a chair,leaning lightly on one of its arms, in an attitude that interest in thesubject she was discussing, and confidence in her companion, hadnaturally produced; while Beatriz de Bobadilla occupied a low stool ather feet, bending her body in respectful affection so far forward, as toallow the fairer hair of the princess to mingle with her own dark curls,while the face of the latter appeared to repose on the head of herfriend. As no one else was present, the reader will at once infer, fromthe entire absence of Castilian etiquette and Spanish reserve, that thedialogue they held was strictly confidential, and that it was governedmore by the feelings of nature, than by the artificial rules thatusually regulate the intercourse of courts.
"I have prayed, Beatriz, that God would direct my judgment in thisweighty concern," said the princess, in continuation of some previousobservation; "and I hope I have as much kept in view the happiness of myfuture subjects, in the choice I have made, as my own."
"None shall presume to question it," said Beatriz de Bobadilla; "for hadit pleased you to wed the Grand Turk, the Castilians would not gainsayyour wish, such is their love!"
"Say, rather, such is thy love for me, my good Beatriz, that thoufanciest this," returned Isabella, smiling, and raising her face fromthe other's head. "Our Castilians might overlook such a sin, but I couldnot pardon myself for forgetting that I am a Christian. Beatriz, I havebeen sorely tried, in this matter!"
"But the hour of trial is nearly passed. Holy Maria! what lightness ofreflection, and vanity, and misjudging of self, must exist in man, toembolden some who have dared to aspire to become your husband! You wereyet a child when they betrothed you to Don Carlos, a prince old enoughto be your father; and then, as if that were not sufficient to warmCastilian blood, they chose the King of Portugal for you, and he mightwell have passed for a generation still more remote! Much as I love you,Dona Isabella, and my own soul is scarce dearer to me than your personand mind, for nought do I respect you more, than for the noble andprincely resolution, child as y
ou then were, with which you denied theking, in his wicked wish to make you Queen of Portugal."
"Don Enriquez is my brother, Beatriz; and thine and my royal master."
"Ah! bravely did you tell them all," continued Beatriz de Bobadilla,with sparkling eyes, and a feeling of exultation that caused her tooverlook the quiet rebuke of her mistress; "and worthy was it of aprincess of the royal house of Castile! 'The Infantas of Castile,' yousaid, 'could not be disposed of, in marriage, without the consent of thenobles of the realm;' and with that fit reply they were glad to becontent."
"And yet, Beatriz, am I about to dispose of an Infanta of Castile,without even consulting its nobles."
"Say not that, my excellent mistress. There is not a loyal and gallantcavalier between the Pyrenees and the sea, who will not, in his heart,approve of your choice. The character, and age, and other qualities ofthe suitor, make a sensible difference in these concerns. But unfit asDon Alfonso of Portugal was, and is, to be the wedded husband of DonaIsabella of Castile, what shall we say to the next suitor who appearedas a pretender to your royal hand--Don Pedro Giron, the Master ofCalatrava! truly a most worthy lord for a maiden of the royal house! Outupon him! A Pachecho might think himself full honorably mated, could hehave found a damsel of Bobadilla to elevate his race!"
"That ill-assorted union was imposed upon my brother by unworthyfavorites; and God, in his holy providence, saw fit to defeat theirwishes, by hurrying their intended bridegroom to an unexpected grave!"
"Ay! had it not pleased his blessed will so to dispose of Don Pedro,other means would not have been wanting!"
"This little hand of thine, Beatriz," returned the princess, gravely,though she smiled affectionately on her friend as she took the hand inquestion, "was not made for the deed its owner menaced."
"That which its owner menaced," replied Beatriz, with eyes flashingfire, "this hand would have executed, before Isabella of Castile shouldbe the doomed bride of the Grand Master of Calatrava. What! was thepurest, loveliest virgin of Castile, and she of royal birth--nay, therightful heiress of the crown--to be sacrificed to a lawless libertine,because it had pleased Don Henry to forget his station and duties, andmake a favorite of a craven miscreant!"
"Thou always forgettest, Beatriz, that Don Enriquez is our lord theking, and my royal brother."
"I do not forget, Senora, that you are the royal sister of our lord theking, and that Pedro de Giron, or Pachecho, whichever it might suit theancient Portuguese page to style him, was altogether unworthy to sit inyour presence, much less to become your wedded husband. Oh! what days ofanguish were those, my gracious lady, when your knees ached with bendingin prayer, that this might not be! But God would not permit it--neitherwould I! That dagger should have pierced his heart, before ear of hisshould have heard the vows of Isabella of Castile!"
"Speak no more of this, good Beatriz, I pray thee," said the princess,shuddering, and crossing herself; "they were, in sooth, days of anguish;but what were they in comparison with the passion of the Son of God, whogave himself a sacrifice for our sins! Name it not, then; it was goodfor my soul to be thus tried; and thou knowest that the evil was turnedfrom me--more, I doubt not, by the efficacy of our prayers, than by thatof thy dagger. If thou wilt speak of my suitors, surely there are othersbetter worthy of the trouble."
A light gleamed about the dark eye of Beatriz, and a smile struggledtoward her pretty mouth; for well did she understand that the royal, butbashful maiden, would gladly hear something of him on whom her choicehad finally fallen. Although ever disposed to do that which was gratefulto her mistress, with a woman's coquetry, Beatriz determined to approachthe more pleasing part of the subject coyly, and by a regular gradationof events, in the order in which they had actually occurred.
"Then, there was Monsieur de Guienne, the brother of King Louis ofFrance," she resumed, affecting contempt in her manner; "_he_ would fainbecome the husband of the future Queen of Castile! But even our mostunworthy Castilians soon saw the unfitness of that union. Their pridewas unwilling to run the chance of becoming a fief of France."
"That misfortune could never have befallen our beloved Castile,"interrupted Isabella with dignity; "had I espoused the King of Francehimself, he would have learned to respect me as the Queen Proprietor ofthis ancient realm, and not have looked upon me as a subject."
"Then, Senora," continued Beatriz, looking up into Isabella's face, andlaughing--"was your own royal kinsman, Don Ricardo of Gloucester; hethat they say was born with teeth, and who carries already a burthen soheavy on his back, that he may well thank his patron saint that he isnot also to be loaded with the affairs of Castile."[1]
[Footnote 1: NOTE--The authorities differ as to which of the Englishprinces was the suitor of Isabella; Edward IV. himself, Clarence, orRichard. Isabella was the grand-daughter of Catherine of Lancaster, whowas a daughter of John of Gaunt.]
"Thy tongue runneth riot, Beatriz. They tell me that Don Ricardo is anoble and aspiring prince; that he is, one day, likely to wed someprincess, whose merit may well console him for his failure in Castile.But what more hast thou to offer concerning my suitors?"
"Nay, what more can I say, my beloved mistress? We have now reached DonFernando, literally the first, as he proveth to be the last, and as weknow him to be, the best of them all."
"I think I have been guided by the motives that become my birth andfuture hopes, in choosing Don Ferdinand," said Isabella, meekly, thoughshe was uneasy in spite of her royal views of matrimony; "since nothingcan so much tend to the peace of our dear kingdom, and to the success ofthe great cause of Christianity, as to unite Castile and Aragon underone crown."
"By uniting their sovereigns in holy wedlock," returned Beatriz, withrespectful gravity, though a smile again struggled around her poutinglips. "What if Don Fernando is the most youthful, the handsomest, themost valiant, and the most agreeable prince in Christendom, it is nofault of yours, since you did not make him, but have only accepted himfor a husband!"
"Nay, this exceedeth discretion and respect, my good Beatriz," returnedIsabella, affecting to frown, even while she blushed deeply at her ownemotions, and looked gratified at the praises of her betrothed. "Thouknowest that I have never beheld my cousin, the King of Sicily."
"Very true, Senora; but Father Alonso de Coca hath--and a surer eye, ortruer tongue than his, do not exist in Castile."
"Beatriz, I pardon thy license, however unjust and unseemly, because Iknow thou lovest me, and lookest rather at mine own happiness, than atthat of my people," said the princess, the effect of whose gravity nowwas not diminished by any betrayal of natural feminine weakness--for shefelt slightly offended. "Thou knowest, or ought'st to know, that amaiden of royal birth is bound principally to consult the interests ofthe state, in bestowing her hand, and that the idle fancies of villagegirls have little in common with her duties. Nay, what virgin of nobleextraction, like thyself, even, would dream of aught else than ofsubmitting to the counsel of her family, in taking a husband? If I haveselected Don Fernando of Aragon, from among many princes, it is,doubtless, because the alliance is more suited to the interests ofCastile, than any other that hath offered. Thou seest, Beatriz, that theCastilians and the Aragonese spring from the same source, and have thesame habits and prejudices. They speak the same language"--
"Nay, dearest lady, do not confound the pure Castilian with the dialectof the mountains!"
"Well, have thy fling, wayward one, if thou wilt; but we can easierteach the nobles of Aragon our purer Spanish, than we can teach it tothe Gaul. Then, Don Fernando is of my own race; the House of Trastamaracometh of Castile and her monarchs, and we may at least hope that theKing of Sicily will be able to make himself understood."
"If he could not, he were no true knight! The man whose tongue shouldfail him, when the stake was a royal maiden of a beauty surpassing thatof the dawn--of an excellence that already touches on heaven--of acrown"--
"Girl, girl, thy tongue is getting the mastery of thee--such discourseill befitteth thee an
d me."
"And yet, Dona Ysabel, my tongue is close bound to my heart."
"I do believe thee, my good Beatriz; but we should bethink us both ofour last shrivings, and of the ghostly counsel that we then received.Such nattering discourse seemeth light, when we remember our manifoldtransgressions, and our many occasions for forgiveness. As for thismarriage, I would have thee think that it has been contracted on mypart, with the considerations and motives of a princess, and not throughany light indulgence of my fancies. Thou knowest that I have neverbeheld Don Fernando, and that he hath never even looked upon me."
"Assuredly, dearest lady and honored mistress, all this I know, and see,and believe; and I also agree that it were unseemly and little befittingher birth, for even a noble maiden to contract the all-importantobligations of marriage, with no better motive than the light impulsesof a country wench. Nothing is more just than that we are alike bound toconsult our own dignity, and the wishes of kinsmen and friends; and thatour duty, and the habits of piety and submission in which we have beenreared, are better pledges for our connubial affection than any capricesof a girlish imagination. Still, my honored lady, it is most fortunatethat your high obligations point to one as youthful, brave, noble, andchivalrous, as is the King of Sicily, as we well know, by FatherAlonso's representations, to be the fact; and that all my friends unitein saying that Don Andres de Cabrera, madcap and silly as he is, willmake an exceedingly excellent husband for Beatriz de Bobadilla!"
Isabella, habitually dignified and reserved as she was, had herconfidants and her moments for unbending; and Beatriz was the principalamong the former, while the present instant was one of the latter. Shesmiled, therefore, at this sally; and parting, with her own fair hand,the dark locks on the brow of her friend, she regarded her much as themother regards her child, when sudden passages of tenderness come overthe heart.
"If madcap should wed madcap, _thy_ friends, at least, have judgedrightly," answered the princess. Then, pausing an instant, as if in deepthought, she continued in a graver manner, though modesty shone in hertell-tale complexion, and the sensibility that beamed in her eyesbetrayed that she now felt more as a woman than as a future queen bentonly on the happiness of her people: "As this interview draweth near, Isuffer an embarrassment I had not thought it easy to inflict on anInfanta of Castile. To thee, my faithful Beatriz, I will acknowledge,that were the King of Sicily as old as Don Alfonso of Portugal, or werehe as effeminate and unmanly as Monsieur of Guienne; were he, in sooth,less engaging and young, I should feel less embarrassment in meetinghim, than I now experience."
"This is passing strange, Senora! Now, I will confess that I would notwillingly abate in Don Andres, one hour of his life, which has beensufficiently long as it is; one grace of his person, if indeed thehonest cavalier hath any to boast of; or one single perfection of eitherbody or mind."
"Thy case is not mine, Beatriz. Thou knowest the Marquis of Moya; hastlistened to his discourse, and art accustomed to his praises and hisadmiration."
"Holy St. Iago of Spain! Do not distrust any thing, Senora, on accountof unfamiliarity with such matters--for, of all learning, it is easiestto learn to relish praise and admiration!"
"True, daughter"--(for so Isabella often termed her friend, though herjunior: in later life, and after the princess had become a queen, this,indeed, was her usual term of endearment)--"true, daughter, when praiseand admiration are freely given and fairly merited. But I distrust,myself, my claims to be thus viewed, and the feelings with which DonFernando may first behold me. I know--nay, I _feel_ him to be graceful,and noble, and valiant, and generous, and good; comely to the eye, andstrict of duty to our holy religion; as illustrious in qualities as inbirth; and I tremble to think of my own unsuitableness to be his brideand queen."
"God's Justice!--I should like to meet the impudent Aragonese noble thatwould dare to hint as much as this! If Don Fernando is noble, are younot nobler, Senora, as coming of the senior branch of the same house; ifhe is young, are you not equally so; if he is wise, are you not wiser;if he is comely, are you not more of an angel than a woman; if he isvaliant, are you not virtuous; if he is graceful, are you not graceitself; if he is generous, are you not good, and what is more, are younot the very soul of generosity; if he is strict of duty in matters ofour holy religion, are you not an angel?"
"Good sooth--good sooth--Beatriz, thou art a comforter! I could reprovethee for this idle tongue, but I know thee honest."
"This is no more than that deep modesty, honored mistress, which evermaketh you quicker to see the merits of others, than to perceive yourown. Let Don Fernando look to it! Though he come in all the pomp andglory of his many crowns, I warrant you we find him a royal maiden inCastile, who shall abash him and rebuke his vanity, even while sheappears before him in the sweet guise of her own meek nature!"
"I have said naught of Don Fernando's vanity, Beatriz--nor do I esteemhim in the least inclined to so weak a feeling; and as for pomp, we wellknow that gold no more abounds at Zaragosa than at Valladolid, albeit hehath many crowns, in possession, and in reserve. Notwithstanding all thyfoolish but friendly tongue hath uttered, I distrust myself, and not theKing of Sicily. Methinks I could meet any other prince in Christendomwith indifference--or, at least, as becometh my rank and sex; but Iconfess, I tremble at the thought of encountering the eyes and opinionsof my noble cousin."
Beatriz listened with interest; and when her royal mistress ceasedspeaking, she kissed her hand affectionately, and then pressed it to herheart.
"Let Don Fernando tremble, rather, Senora, at encountering yours," sheanswered.
"Nay, Beatriz, we know that he hath nothing to dread, for reportspeaketh but too favorably of him. But, why linger here in doubt andapprehension, when the staff on which it is my duty to lean, is ready toreceive its burthen: Father Alonso doubtless waiteth for us, and we willnow join him."
The princess and her friend now repaired to the chapel of the palace,where her confessor celebrated the daily mass. The self-distrust whichdisturbed the feelings of the modest Isabella was appeased by the holyrites, or, rather, it took refuge on that rock where she was accustomedto place all her troubles, with her sins. As the little assemblage leftthe chapel, one, hot with haste, arrived with the expected, but stilldoubted tidings, that the King of Sicily had reached Duenas in safety,and that, as he was now in the very centre of his supporters, therecould no longer be any reasonable distrust of the speedy celebration ofthe contemplated marriage.
Isabella was much overcome with this news, and required more than usualof the care of Beatriz de Bobadilla, to restore her to that sweetserenity of mind and air, which ordinarily rendered her presence asattractive as it was commanding. An hour or two spent in meditation andprayer, however, finally produced a gentle calm in her feelings, andthese two friends were again alone, in the very apartment where we firstintroduced them to the reader.
"Hast thou seen Don Andres de Cabrera?" demanded the princess, taking ahand from a brow which had been often pressed in a sort of bewilderedrecollection.
Beatriz de Bobadilla blushed--and then she laughed outright, with afreedom that the long-established affection of her mistress did notrebuke.
"For a youth of thirty, and a cavalier well hacked in the wars of theMoors, Don Andres hath a nimble foot," she answered. "He brought hitherthe tidings of the arrival; and with it he brought his own delightfulperson, to show it was no lie. For one so experienced, he hath a strongpropensity to talk; and so, in sooth, while you, my honored mistress,would be in your closet alone, I could but listen to all the marvels ofthe journey. It seems, Senora, that they did not reach Duenas any toosoon; for the only purse among them was mislaid, or blown away by thewind on account of its lightness."
"I trust this accident hath been repaired. Few of the house ofTrastamara have much gold at this trying moment, and yet none are wontto be entirely without it."
"Don Andres is neither beggar nor miser. He is now in our Castile, whereI doubt not he is familiar with the Jews and mon
ey-lenders; as theselast must know the full value of his lands, the King of Sicily will notwant. I hear, too, that the Count of Trevino hath conducted nobly withhim."
"It shall be well for the Count of Trevino that he hath had thisliberality. But, Beatriz, bring forth the writing materials; it is meetthat I, at once, acquaint Don Enriquez with this event, and with mypurpose of marriage."
"Nay, dearest mistress, this is out of all rule. When a maiden, gentleor simple, intendeth marriage against her kinsmen's wishes, it is theway to wed first, and to write the letter and ask the blessing when theevil is done."
"Go to, light-of-speech! Thou hast spoken; now bring the pens and paper.The king is not only my lord and sovereign, but he is my nearest of kin,and should be my father."
"And Dona Joanna of Portugal, his royal consort, and our illustriousqueen, should be your mother; and a fitting guide would she be to anymodest virgin! No--no--my beloved mistress; your royal mother was theDona Isabella of Portugal--and a very different princess was she fromthis, her wanton niece."
"Thou givest thyself too much license, Dona Beatriz, and forgettest myrequest. I desire to write to my brother the king."
It was so seldom that Isabella spoke sternly, that her friend started,and the tears rushed to her eyes at this rebuke; but she procured thewriting materials, before she presumed to look into Isabella's face, inorder to ascertain if she were really angered. There all was beautifulserenity again; and the Lady of Bobadilla, perceiving that hermistress's mind was altogether occupied with the matter before her, andthat she had already forgotten her displeasure, chose to make no furtherallusion to the subject.
Isabella now wrote her celebrated letter, in which she appeared toforget all her natural timidity, and to speak solely as a princess. Bythe treaty of Toros de Guisando, in which, setting aside the claims ofJoanna of Portugal's daughter, she had been recognized as the heiress ofthe throne, it had been stipulated that she should not marry without theking's consent; and she now apologized for the step she was about totake, on the substantial plea that her enemies had disregarded thesolemn compact entered into not to urge her into any union that wasunsuitable or disagreeable to herself. She then alluded to the politicaladvantages that would follow the union of the crowns of Castile andAragon, and solicited the king's approbation of the step she was aboutto take. This letter, after having been submitted to John de Vivero, andothers of her council, was dispatched by a special messenger--afterwhich act the arrangements necessary as preliminaries to a meetingbetween the betrothed were entered into. Castilian etiquette wasproverbial, even in that age; and the discussion led to a proposal thatIsabella rejected with her usual modesty and discretion.
"It seemeth to me," said John de Vivero, "that this alliance should nottake place without some admission, on the part of Don Fernando, of theinferiority of Aragon to our own Castile. The house of the latterkingdom is but a junior branch of the reigning House of Castile, and theformer territory of old was admitted to have a dependency on thelatter."
This proposition was much applauded, until the beautiful and naturalsentiments of the princess, herself, interposed to expose its weaknessand its deformities.
"It is doubtless true," she said, "that Don Juan of Aragon is the son ofthe younger brother of my royal grandfather; but he is none the less aking. Nay, besides his crown of Aragon--a country, if thou wilt, whichis inferior to Castile--he hath those of Naples and Sicily; not to speakof Navarre, over which he ruleth, although it may not be with too muchright. Don Fernando even weareth the crown of Sicily, by therenunciation of Don Juan; and shall he, a crowned sovereign, makeconcessions to one who is barely a princess, and whom it may neverplease God to conduct to a throne? Moreover, Don John of Vivero, Ibeseech thee to remember the errand that bringeth the King of Sicily toValladolid. Both he and I have two parts to perform, and two charactersto maintain--those of prince and princess, and those of Christianswedded and bound by holy marriage ties. It would ill become one that isabout to take on herself the duties and obligations of a wife, to beginthe intercourse with exactions that should be humiliating to the prideand self-respect of her lord. Aragon may truly be an inferior realm toCastile--but Ferdinand of Aragon is even now every way the equal ofIsabella of Castile; and when he shall receive my vows, and, with them,my duty and my affections"--Isabella's color deepened, and her mild eyelighted with a sort of holy enthusiasm--"as befitteth a woman, though aninfidel, he would become, in some particulars, my superior. Let me,then, hear no more of this; for it could not nearly as much pain DonFernando to make the concessions ye require, as it paineth me to hear ofthem."