CHAPTER V.
La cosa mas alegre que en la vida, Permite al ser mortal humana gloria, Es la patria del hombre tan querida Despues de alguna prospera victoria.
_Lope de Vega._
Ah! che per tutto io veggo Qualche oggetto funesto!
_Metastasio._
Granada now presented a scene of animated confusion. The repeatedsuccesses of the Christians against the rebels, and the intelligencelately received of the defeat of El Feri de Benastepar, with the totaldestruction of his forces, filled the inhabitants of that city with joy.Various bands of musicians paraded the gay and busy streets, unitingtheir harmonious strains with the more solemn sounds of the bells,whilst the joyous laugh, and other clamorous evidences of pleasure,filled the air with a confused yet pleasing din.
It was amidst this tumult of rejoicing, that Theodora entered the cityof Granada. Her party had travelled slowly, so that the intelligence ofthe recent victory had reached the place before them, and they were notsurprised at the extraordinary excitement of popular feeling. Theanimated scene served, in some degree, to draw her mind from its gloomyrecollections, for during her journey she had again relapsed into herformer state of despondency. She was now traversing the principalstreets of that far-famed and renowned city, so long the grand arena ofthe Moslem's greatness, now the undisputed dominion of the victoriousChristian. Every step she advanced exhibited some new object to awakenher curiosity or excite her feelings, such as a stranger must feel uponarriving at a city so lately rescued from the possession of anhereditary enemy.
Relics of Moorish grandeur were every where discernible; every street,every building, nay the very pavement on which they trod, teemed withassociations of by-gone glory and departed power. The city was nowchiefly inhabited by Spaniards; yet a considerable portion of itspopulation consisted of Moors, who scrupulously adhered to theirnational costume, strikingly contrasted by its gaiety with the lessfanciful but more manly attire of the Christians. The two people widelydiffered in all points, though now enclosed within the same precincts.Two mortal and implacable enemies, united in apparent friendship,paraded the streets, or tenanted the dwellings of Granada.
The high balconies of the city were hung with costly drapery, and theturrets of the magnificent palaces adorned with a profusion of largewaving banners and gay pennons. Every window was crowded with rank andbeauty, witnessing the gambols of the merry children or the boisterousrecreations of the populace. The streets themselves afforded a quaintand curious spectacle, for in promiscuous and gay confusion were seenthe splendid apparel of the noble, and the modest garb of the peasant;the shining armour and waving plumes of the Christian warrior, and thegaudy fantastic habiliments of the Moslem. With them appeared the solemnand lugubrious vestments of the ecclesiastical dignitaries, and thecoarse habit and shaven crown of the monk.
Theodora was lost in wonder, so numerous and so whimsically contrastedwere these various objects. But amongst this motley assemblage therewere some who appeared more capable of interesting her heart and herfancy. She espied those who were no sincere partakers of the generaljoy, and whose sad eye and clouded brow belied the accents of theirtongue. Some, who vainly strove to animate their countenances with apleasure that was foreign to their hearts. The dejected and down-fallenMoors were among these; for though they had submitted to the Christiangovernment, and admitted to the fullest extent the criminality of theirfellow-countrymen, yet they could not but be sensible that it was thedefeat and annihilation of their friends and former companions thatoccasioned these demonstrations of joy. Besides, they felt the pangs ofshame and degradation, rendered still more poignant by a consciousnessof the superior courage of those whose destruction they were now in somemeasure compelled to celebrate. To this was added the painfulconviction, that although they might outwardly be treated by theSpaniards as fellow-subjects, no true sentiment of esteem and friendshipcould be awakened in the breasts of those who must always consider themas vanquished enemies. Besides the hatred which rankled alike in thehearts of the followers of the Cross and those of the Crescent, ahatred, which had been hereditary for many ages, was of itself aninsurmountable obstacle to the friendly conjunction of two suchdifferent people. The Moors were therefore a prey to the most gallingreflections, and smarting under the bitterest disappointment, at thevery time that pleasure and contentment alone seemed to hold dominionin Granada.
Theodora beheld these unfortunates with a lively sensation of pity,though they had certainly little claim to it. The image of the odiousCaneri was of itself sufficient to banish any kindly feeling; yet theywere forlorn and wretched, and this was alone a sacred title to thesympathies of her generous soul. She was, however, soon obliged torecall her thoughts to a subject of individual interest, for as she wasdoubling the _Plaza nueva_,[30] amongst the various Moors that paradedabout, her eyes lighted on one that struck a sensation of dread to hervery heart. It was Bermudo the renegade! She could not be deceived inhis person, though his outward appearance had undergone a materialalteration. The ingenuity which had changed his dress and disguised hismanner, could not however alter the peculiar expression of his eye, andthe chilling tranquil sternness of his features. Theodora trembled, forshe perceived that she had been recognised by the renegade, whointensely fixed his eyes upon her, as though her person powerfullyarrested his attention. She turned with terror from the dreaded object,and during the rest of her way, felt an involuntary apprehension atlooking around her.
The party of Theodora had by this time arrived at the palace of DonAlonso de Aguilar, but an entrance was not to be effected withoutconsiderable difficulty, all the avenues leading to it being crowdedwith the multitude eager to congratulate the daughter of the victoriouswarrior. The lady herself appeared for a moment at the balcony, gailysurrounded by gallant knights and pages, waving her silken scarf ingrateful acknowledgment of these public demonstrations of respect.Ramirez turned, and conducting his party to the back of the mansion,sought an easier admission by the garden entrance. Theodora was soonushered into a splendid apartment, while her attentive conductorproceeded alone, to fulfil his instructions to the daughter of Aguilar.
During the short interval that succeeded the departure of Ramirez, themind of Theodora was alternately agitated between hope and fear. Notthat she had any reason to doubt the reception she would experience fromLeonor, but she felt the painful difficulty of affording the explanationthat would naturally be required of her upon the arrival of Aguilar,whose return was daily expected. These painful reflections, however,were checked by the return of Ramirez, who taking the trembling hand ofTheodora, led her to Leonor's private apartment. They traversed insilence the spacious corridors of the palace, and before Theodora hadtime to collect her scattered senses, a pair of folding doors werethrown open, and she found herself in the presence of one whom herfervid imagination had almost portrayed as something more than mortal.
Leonor advanced gracefully to meet her guest, and observing her extremeemotion, endeavoured to sooth it by the most friendly expressions.
"So lovely a being," she said, as she led the passive Theodora towardsa sofa, "needed not the recommendation of my noble parent, to bereceived with cordial hospitality by his daughter;--but rest yourself,"she continued, "for you must be in want of repose, after the journey youhave undergone."
Theodora, notwithstanding this reassuring tone, was unable to giveutterance to the acknowledgments of her grateful heart. There wassomething in the whole appearance of Leonor that contributed to heightenher natural timidity, and even the kindness and affability of thedaughter of Aguilar could not entirely dissipate an indefinablesensation of awe, which Theodora felt in her presence. She had been atfirst sight struck by the imposing and majestic beauty of Leonor,together with the dazzling splendour in which she was attired. Hersenses were bewildered in the contemplation of so much grandeur andmagnificence.
Indeed Leonor de Aguilar was designed by nature to produce those
sensations in minds far more familiar with scenes of greatness andpower than the simple and unsophisticated heart of the guilelessTheodora. Leonor de Aguilar was a model of that peculiar beauty whichpartakes at once of the lovely graces of her own sex, with some of themore decided attributes of man. Her form was largely but most elegantlyframed, and exhibited a classic boldness of contour that perfectlyharmonized with her stateliness of carriage. Her complexion was of atransparent brown, mellowed by the rich rosy tint that played over it,and her large brilliant eyes sparkled with dazzling and energetic fire.Dark glossy tresses overshadowed her oval face, where a beautiful shapedaquiline nose, and lips of the deepest carnation, contributed to giveher countenance an expression of striking brilliancy. Yet there wassomething stern in the resolute flash of her eye, and the bold curl ofher lip. A slight tincture of hauteur was likewise occasionally to bedetected, through the affability of manner by which she wascharacterized; and in the very tone of her voice, even when attuned tothe softest expressions of kindness and regard, there was a chord thatvibrated upon the ear, which told of conscious superiority and masculinegenius. Yet these peculiarities were favorable to the commanding styleof her beauty, and served to heighten the impression which her naturalattractions could not fail to produce.
"But come," said Leonor, after the first salutations, and when Theodorafelt a little reassured; "come, I must introduce you to the grandsaloon, where some of the first nobility of Spain are now assembled: Iam sure," she added with a smile, "those gallant knights will be greatlybeholden to me for bringing so lovely an addition to their society."
"Your kind flattery," replied Theodora, "would certainly arouse afeeling of vanity, if any such, alas! still lingered in my heart; but atpresent sad recollections too severely oppress me to render societydesirable: besides, I should feel myself lost amidst so brilliant anassemblage."
"Well," continued Leonor, "I will not impose any exertion upon my fairguest that may not accord with the present state of her mind; let us,however, hope that her sorrows are not so deeply rooted but that, in thekindness of her friends, she may soon find some alleviation. Yet," sheadded, "if you will not join in our festivities, you will at least beable to witness them, without inconvenience, from your casement. Thegrand procession will presently move towards the cathedral, to return asolemn thanksgiving for the successes of the Christian arms. The queenwill shortly leave her palace, attended with the flower of Spanishwarriors, and all the rank and beauty of Granada. And now, my gentlefriend," she continued in a kind tone, "I shall be obliged for a time toleave you, as my attendance on the queen is absolutely required."
She then appointed two of her maids to attend on her guest, and renewingher assurances of regard and friendship, she retired, leaving theunfortunate daughter of Monteblanco deeply impressed with gratitude andadmiration.
Upon the departure of Leonor, Theodora drew near the window, and gazedon the moving multitude below. The increased clamour of the populace,and an unusual hurrying to and fro, together with the tolling of thecathedral bells, now announced that the procession had left the palace,and was approaching. Soon after, the sumptuous cavalcade came in sight,slowly moving forwards. A magnificent banner was borne at the head ofthe procession, displaying the cross of Santiago, patron of Spain,gorgeously embroidered thereon, and followed by the knights of thatnoble military order, in their grand ceremonial costumes. After them,came those of the order of Calatrava, with their brave and renownedmaestre at their head. A long train of noblemen and knights, allmartially equipped, and mounted on beautiful steeds, succeeded, bearingamongst them the spoils taken in the late conflicts. Isabella herself atlast appeared, seated on a superb milk-white charger, with the ease andelegance of a perfect equestrian. She was immediately attended by theCount de Tendilla, governor of the city, and the Archbishop of Toledoand that of Granada, who were to officiate at the cathedral. Thesplendor of the cavalcade was diversified by ranks of friars and monksof various orders, who moved in regular order, mingling the sounds ofsolemn anthems to the notes of clarions and other warlike instruments.Then the incense rose to the sky, flinging around a grateful odour,whilst the din and confusion of the overwhelming throng that closed themarch, evinced the interest which the scene excited in the minds of thepeople.
Theodora gazed after the procession until it gradually diminished in thedistance, and the clamorous noise was gradually subdued into a tranquiland pleasing murmur. The pageant moved forward to the cathedral, where agrand _Te Deum_ was sung, and a thousand voices united in heartfeltgratitude to that awful power which had been so propitious to theChristian people.
Theodora now retired from the casement, and abandoned herself to herformer thoughts. The sumptuous display she had just witnessed forciblyrecalled her mind to the subject of its constant meditations. Alas!amongst the host of gallant knights that composed the scene, the bestand bravest was not there; and the image of her murdered lover, arrayedin terror, rose sadly before the imagination of Theodora. Herattendants, ignorant of the nature of her sorrows, but in the truespirit of female compassion, endeavoured to divert her thoughts to morepleasing channels. The mind may be better weaned from scenes of pastdistress, by interesting the curiosity, than by a consolation whichoften, instead of healing the lacerated heart, serves but to increasethe torture of the wound.
The kind females, therefore, led Theodora to view the interior of thepalace, which, from its venerable antiquity, and the interesting relicsof Moorish taste and ornament it contained, afforded a subject forcurious investigation. The quaint and fantastic carvings of the cornicesof the grand saloon, together with its Arabic devices and decorations,and the mosaic pavement, harmonized strangely with the armorial bearingsand heavily grouped emblems of Christian panoplies.
Theodora gazed on these warlike trophies with a listless indifference,but when she came to a long gallery hung round with pictures, both ofChristian and Moorish subjects, her feelings were powerfully excited,and she beheld those living mockeries of departed greatness with a deepsensation of awe. Many a picture was there which recorded the fadedsplendour of the Moslems. Many a scene of the chivalrous tales andamours of the valiant Gazul and the love-smitten Lindaraxa, and othercharacters now highly prized in Moorish legend. These scenes of privateand individual interest were artificially mixed with otherrepresentations of a more general and dignified nature. Battles andsieges and valorous deeds of Mahomedan warriors were gaudily portrayedby the Moorish artist, who had taken care to bestow with his pencil agratuitous splendor upon the exploits of his countrymen, as they passedin review under his hand. These works were succeeded by others of a verydifferent character, in which the Christian artist had ingeniously takenthe hint from his Mahomedan rival, and had fairly outdone the infidel inthe fierce and indomitable expression of his heroes.
These were followed by a series of portraits, both of living personagesand others who were long since dead. Amongst these, Theodora saw themighty form of Alonso de Aguilar, on whose noble countenance was stampedthat commanding expression which brought vividly to her memory the imageof his daughter Leonor. There also stood as in life the renowned andterrible Ruy Diaz de Vivar, surnamed _El Cid Campeador_,[31] mounted onhis scarcely less celebrated charger Babieca, both actively engaged inthe destruction of their Moorish enemies; for it is a receivedtradition that the animal had an instinctive horror and abhorrence ofthe infidels, and accordingly never lost an opportunity of exhibitingtowards them his patriotic propensities by the force of his bites andkicks. There was likewise the awful and sanctified figure of the apostle_Santiago_, riding like a whirlwind through the air, on his milk-whitehorse, and accomplishing in his progress those wonderful and miraculousdeeds which have so much embellished the pages of the old legends, andfrom whose rich sources the romancers have derived such heroic spiritand power. The portraits of the Catholic Ferdinand, and his noble spouseIsabella, were also there, together with many other Christian sovereignsand warriors, who had played conspicuous parts in the history of theircountry.
T
heodora unconsciously wandered along until she had nearly reached theextremity of the gallery, when, as she was about to return, her eyesuddenly alighted on a figure that thrilled the inmost fibres of herframe. It was _him_ she saw, so truly portrayed and so exact in everylineament, that the painted canvas seemed endowed with life. Gomez Ariaswas there; his bold demeanor, his proud smile, the intelligent glance ofhis eye--all, all was religiously preserved in that inanimatecounterpart of living reality. Theodora gazed and gazed, until herdilated eyes seemed ready to start from their orbits. The unfortunategirl was rivetted to the spot, for she felt a melancholy pleasure indwelling on the semblance of those handsome features. She descried allthe graces of her lover in that perfect memorial of him, and her ownvivid imagination imparted to it life and passion. She stood before thepicture, till she fancied her lover present, earnestly gazing on herimmovable form, and she felt a portion of that happiness which he neverfailed to create when he whispered the ardent vows of everlasting love.
Theodora remained some time plunged in a tide of feeling, painful yetpleasing, and in the recollection of past scenes she almost forgot thehorrid fate of Gomez Arias. She gazed, and in the height of herenthusiasm she was happy; but, alas! how short, how transient was thedelusion which, when dissolved, would tend to sink her deeper inaffliction! The brazen, heavy voice of the cathedral bell suddenly brokethe magic charm. Theodora started from her reverie, and all again becamea chaos of misery and despondence.
The pageant was now returning from the Cathedral, and once more thetolling of bells and the martial strains rung in the air. Theodora,unwilling to betray her situation to her attendants, returned to herapartment, where she endeavoured to conceal her emotion as well as thehigh excitement of her feelings would permit.
The generous Leonor soon repaired to her charge.
"Come," said she, as she entered, "I suppose you will at least grace theconvivial table, since I could not prevail on you to adorn theprocession?"
"Suffer me," gently answered Theodora, "to trespass so far on your kindindulgence as to excuse my absence from the feast. My mind, alas! is inno state to enjoy the revelry, and I should but cast a gloom on thebrilliancy of the scene."
Leonor had a superior knowledge of human nature, and an unusualquickness of discernment. She prudently considered that consolationcould much better be promoted by a gentle and timely acquiescence withthe desires of the afflicted, than by an overstrained and ill-timedattempt to obtrude gaiety on a mind that was not prepared for itsadmission. Theodora's request to keep her apartment was accordinglycomplied with. There she passed the remainder of the day in busycommunion with her own thoughts, and bewildered in contemplating theconduct that she ought to adopt in her unfortunate situation. Herforlorn heart naturally and affectionately turned to the home of herchildhood; her ideas fondly returned to the pure channel from whencethey had too long wandered, and momentarily overpowered the terrorswhich a consciousness of guilt presented to her imagination. Her fatherwould not discard his afflicted, his repentant child. Her offencetowards him had been great, but it could not be greater than theparental anxiety, the fond, boundless affection he had ever shown to theonly remaining pledge of her mother's love, the sole descendant of hisancient house.
These consoling reflections happily soothed the heart of Theodora. Shearose from her despondency with a sudden start of resolution, anddetermined that on the moment her generous deliverer should arrive, shewould acquaint him with her wishes, and crave his assistance to conducther to the feet of her sorrowing parent.