CHAPTER VII.
Pariome a drede mi Madre Oxala no me pariera!--
_Quevedo._
No ill luck stirring, but what lights on my shoulders.
_Shakespeare._
"_Better be born fortunate than rich_," says an old proverb, and thecorrectness of this saying was fully exemplified in the life of DonRodrigo de Cespedes. Indeed, his whole existence had been a series ofmischances and unfortunate results; and he appeared especially reservedas a proper subject on whom the fickle goddess might exercise hercaprice at leisure.
Why Don Rodrigo should belong to this class, is more than can well beresolved, for he was possessed of all those qualifications which arecalculated to render a man brilliant in society, and amiable in privatelife. He enjoyed the advantages of birth and wealth; handsome in hisperson, and elegant in his address. A brave soldier in war, and acourteous cavalier in peace, it appeared natural that his fortune shouldbe prosperous, and yet all those endowments availed him not. On thecontrary, they only served to render the ill success of his undertakingsthe more remarkable.
These anomalies cannot be accounted for on any rational principle; butmay perhaps be attributed to the absence of that requisitequalification, which sometimes serves a man in lieu of birth or fortune,and not unfrequently goes further than both these advantages;--it isthat most enviable requisite, known under the appropriate, thoughsomewhat vulgar, denomination of good-luck.
Don Rodrigo had paid his addresses to three different ladies, with themoral and highly creditable intention of entering the holy state ofmatrimony. Perhaps in strict justice it must be confessed, this ideacrossed his mind after having completely failed in his attempts tosignalize himself as _un homme a bonnes fortunes_, a sort of ambitionwhich, if not praise-worthy in itself, is nevertheless, whensuccessfully pursued, conducive to the eclat of a man of rank, as wellas gratifying to his vanity. Indeed it may be rather suspected, withoutany great affectation of discernment, that the unlucky Don Rodrigobethought himself of marriage as a last resource, when ultimatelyconvinced of his inability to succeed in his career of gallantry. Buteven in this instance, that unrelenting fatality which constantlyfollowed him, could not be persuaded to spare him even in considerationof hymen.
Don Rodrigo had first for a rival a man whose stature was rather underthan over four feet, whose features were of the most forbidding kind;his person distorted, and his fortune by no means superior to that ofthe Don; yet with all these disadvantages, this little monster, to theastonishment of every one, carried off the fair prize.
He next placed his affections on a lady of more humble pretensions, hisinferior both in birth and fortune, and by no means remarkable forbeauty. Don Rodrigo fondly imagined that his rank and affluence wouldinsure him success; nor did he overlook the advantages nature had givenhim in a pair of fine eyes, an aquiline nose, well proportioned limbs, acarriage that shewed off these qualifications to advantage, and a degreeof personal courage that even his rivals and enemies respected; but hisAngelica must have been an admirer of the opposite qualities, as shechose for her husband an obscure plebeian, whom the very sight of aToledo steel threw into an ague. Disgusted with the bad taste andvulgarity of those he had already courted, he boldly resolved to preferhis suit to the very first lady in the land. He accordingly laid siegeto the heart of Leonor, but here his pretensions met with as decided arepulse as before, and though his vanity could not have been wounded byhaving Gomez Arias for his fortunate rival, yet, soured by his repeatedcrosses, he determined, if he could not by gentle means succeed in hisobject, to kill his rival or fall in the attempt: his success in thislast exploit the reader will perhaps remember.
Nor was the ill-luck of Don Rodrigo confined to his amours; it extendedto all his affairs. If he engaged in a duel, a wound was generally theresult; or if he escaped unhurt, though he might have been the injuredparty, yet by some fatality he was sure to be accounted the aggressor.If he happened to say a good thing, it was invariably attributed toanother person, while, if a piece of scurrility or a foolish remarkcirculated, he never failed to have the whole merit to himself.
We need not, however, go further for instances to exemplify the ill-luckthat constantly attended Don Rodrigo. We see him at present a prey tohis evil genius. He left the _Zaguan_ of Monteblanco's dwelling with theutmost precipitation. Impressed with the idea that he had killed hisrival; and, fully sensible of the necessity of speedy flight, hehurried to the inn for his horse and valet, anxious to put in practicehis prudential resolution, before any impediment could be thrown in hisway. On his arrival he asked for his man Peregil; but Peregil, as if onpurpose to perplex him, was gone to evening prayers, which Don Rodrigovery naturally interpreted, to the tavern. So he sent a boy there, withinstructions where he was to meet him out of the town. He then hastenedto the stable, but found, to his unspeakable mortification, thatPeregil, in his abundant care, had taken the key. Time being precious,Don Rodrigo, afraid of causing a disturbance, was fain to avail himselfof the benefit of an ill-favoured looking mule that stood ready saddledin an outhouse. He doubted not that Peregil would bring his horse afterhim, and render compensation for the mule, which indeed, from themiserable appearance of the beast, would be no difficult matter.
Accordingly, after making his way to the place appointed, he waited twowhole hours in a state of extreme anxiety and suspense, alarmed atevery noise lest it should be a pursuit, and only consoling himself withthe idea, that when his horse should arrive he could soon place himselfout of the reach of danger.
At length he descried his valet advancing at a most leisurely pace, notmounted on his own strong horse, and leading a beautiful Arabian, butbestriding a miserable jackass, which required constant application ofthe whip. Of this Peregil was by no means sparing, to induce him to moveat even the slowest pace a jackass is capable of travelling.
"Peregil, thou imp of Satan, where is my horse?" impatiently demandedDon Rodrigo.
"At the inn," sullenly answered the valet.
"At the inn, thou rascal! why didst thou not bring it, knowing, as youought, that my life is in jeopardy?"
"For a very good reason," replied Peregil, "because they would not letme. You need only blame yourself, Senor, for since your honor scruplesnot to make free with the reverend friar's mule, you ought not to besurprised if his reverence takes the same liberty with your horse."
"By _Santiago de Compostela_,[20] this is past bearing," cried DonRodrigo. "How can the rogue of a friar conscientiously take my beautifulArabian for this worthless mule? What! has the man of God noconscience?"
"I did not inquire that, Senor, but I rather think he is notoverburthened by the manner he has dealt with me.--Oh! if I could catchhis reverence by himself, I would so belabour his shaven skull, as notto leave it in want of razors for the future."
"Well, but how comest thou by that contemptible jackass?" demanded DonRodrigo, angrily.
"Gently, Senor, gently; since the master shows such a predilection formules, it is not to be wondered if the valet evinces a similar taste forjackasses."
"Villain! darest thou jest at this time and on such a subject?"
"Aye, 'tis no laughing matter, sure enough," quoth Peregil; "and insooth I cannot perceive why I should be facetious on the occasion, forafter all I am the greater loser of the two. Look for a moment at thisvile beast! May the lightning of heaven and the curses of all the saintsfall on him and his former master too;" and so saying he againbelaboured the sides of the unfortunate jackass, regretting that itsformer master was not near enough to benefit by the energetic blows heso liberally dealt out.
"A truce, fellow, with thy profane foolery," said Don Rodrigo; "it isnot seemly when the life of thy master is at stake. Prepare to give me afull and circumstantial account of this iniquitous business, or by mysword thou shalt severely rue the day thy master first bestrode a mule."
"Alack a-day," submissively rejoined the valet.--"You must know, DonRodrigo, th
at the mule is the cause of all this. When I returned fromchurch I was startled to see the inn thrown into the greatestconfusion. The reverend fat friar was running round the place bellowinglike a bull, calling for his noble mule, and vowing vengeance on theprofane thief, which unseemly appellation he was pleased to bestow uponyour honor."
"The friar must have been drunk," said Don Rodrigo, sneeringly; "why!did he not perceive that I had left my steed in the stable, which Ithink was sufficient security, till you could pay him the value of hisbeggarly mule!"
"Sure enough he did perceive it, but when I proposed to pay him for hisloss, he demanded such an exorbitant price that it was out of my powerto comply therewith. In his opinion, the steed was no adequatecompensation for his mule; so to make matters even, and adjust theaffair amicably, he proposed that I should give up my horse into thebargain, and then take this abominable ass as a present."
Peregil accompanied the epithet with another donation of his wontedfavors.
"Thou miserable sinner," said Don Rodrigo, "how couldst thou consent tothis nefarious arrangement?"
"Because I could not help it. Think you, Senor mio, I would have agreedto such an extortion had it been in my power to avoid it? But yourprecipitate flight gave me to understand that you had killed youradversary. Any delay in the town might have been attended with danger,backed as his reverence was by all the rabble of the inn."
Don Rodrigo was sensible of the force of this argument, and afterbestowing sundry anathemas on the cheating friar and the inn, in whichhe was zealously joined by Peregil, he said in a melancholy tone, "Well,as there is no remedy, we must put up with this misfortune as well as wecan."
"So we must, Senor," replied Peregil; "and at least there is someconsolation in the reflection that we are already on such familiar termswith dame Fortune, that this new instance of her good-will ought by nomeans to take us by surprise.--But may I ask whither we are going?"
"To seek refuge in the mountains," gloomily answered Don Rodrigo.
"Well, may the help of God be with us!" ejaculated Peregil, "for westand marvellously in need of it."
Saying this, they bent their course to the Alpujarras, as melancholy andslowly as suited the condition and convenience of the animals that borethem. Indeed, from time to time, the reverend mule actually stood still,as if pondering what he should do, and it required all Don Rodrigo'scaresses (for he dared employ no other means) to induce her to proceed.
Thus the distressed master and his humble valet continued their march,for the space of three hours, in a most gloomy night. Observing atlength that his servant made a dead stop, Don Rodrigo determined toassist him, and accordingly indicated his intention to the mule; but tohis utter dismay he found that she had profited by the good example setby her companion the ass, and stood stone still. This obstinacy of theiranimals proved more than equal to the powers of Don Rodrigo and hisman, who, after exhausting their strength in fruitless chastisement,prudently resolved to wait the leisure of their more determinedcompanions. They took shelter, therefore, under the spreading branchesof a large tree, and there they remained in anxious expectation ofday-break, passing the tedious hours in silent and profound reflectionson their miserable condition.