 | CHAPTER XII. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
That o'er her form its transient glory cast:
Some lovelier wonder soon usurp'd the place,
Chased by a charm still lovelier than the last.”
Mason.
The day of the reception of Columbus at Barcelona, had
been one of tumultuous feelings, and of sincere delight, with
the ingenuous and pure-minded Queen of Castile. She had
been the moving spirit of the enterprise, as it was connected
with authority and means, and never was a sovereign more
amply rewarded, by a consciousness of the magnitude of
the results that followed her well-meant and zealous efforts.
When the excitement and bustle of the day were over,
Isabella retired to her closet, and there, as was usual with
her on all great occasions, she poured out her thankfulness
on her knees, entreating the Divine Providence to sustain
her under the new responsibilities she felt, and to direct her
steps aright, equally as a sovereign, and as a Christian
woman. She had left the attitude of prayer but a few
minutes, and was seated with her head leaning on her hand,
in deep meditation, when a slight knock at the door called
her attention. There was but one person in Spain who
modest as was the tap; rising, she turned the key, and
admitted the king.
Isabella was still beautiful. Her form, always of admirable
perfection, still retained its grace. Her eyes had lost
but little of their lustre, and her smile, ever sweet and beneficent,
failed not to reflect the pure and womanly impulses
of her heart. In a word, her youthful beauty had been but
little impaired by the usual transition to the matronly attractions
of a wife and a mother; but this night, all her youthful
charms seemed to be suddenly renewed. Her cheek
was flushed with holy enthusiasm; her figure dilated with
the sublimity of the thoughts in which she had been indulging;
and her eyes beamed with the ennobling hopes of
religious enthusiasm. Ferdinand was struck with this little
change, and he stood admiring her, for a minute, in silence,
after he had closed the door.
“Is not this a most wonderful reward, for efforts so
small, my husband and love?” exclaimed the queen, who
fancied the king's thoughts similar to her own; “a new empire
thus cheaply purchased, with riches that the imagination
cannot tell, and millions of souls to be redeemed from
eternal woe, by means of a grace that must be as unexpected
to themselves, as the knowledge of their existence hath been
to us!”
“Ever thinking, Isabella, of the welfare of souls! But
thou art right; for what are the pomps and glories of the
world to the hopes of salvation, and the delights of heaven!
I confess Colon hath much exceeded all my hopes, and
raised such a future for Spain, that the mind scarce knoweth
where to place limits to its pictures.”
“Think of the millions of poor Indians that may live to
bless our sway, and to feel the influence and consolations
of holy church!”
“I trust that our kinsman and neighbour, Dom Joao, will
not give us trouble in this matter. Your Portuguese have
so keen an appetite for discoveries, that they little relish the
success of other powers; and it is said many dangerous
and wicked proposals were made to the king, even while
our caravels lay in the Tagus.”
“Colon assureth me, Fernando, that he doubteth if these
will have no prejudices to encounter, in presenting to their
simple minds the sublime truths of the gospel!”
“No doubt the admiral hath fully weighed these matters.
It is his opinion, that the island he hath called Española
wanteth but little of being of the full dimensions of Castile,
Leon, Aragon, Granada, and indeed of all our possessions
within the peninsula!”
“Didst thou attend to what he said, touching the gentleness
and mildness of the inhabitants? And wert thou not
struck with the simple, confiding aspects of those he hath
brought with him? Such a people may readily be brought,
first, as is due, to worship the one true and living God, and
next, to regard their sovereigns as kind and benignant
parents.”
“Authority can ever make itself respected; and Don
Christopher hath assured me, in a private conference, that
a thousand tried lances would overrun all that eastern region.
We must make early application to the Holy Father
to settle such limits between us and Don John, as may prevent
disputes, hereafter, touching our several interests. I
have already spoken to the cardinal on this subject, and he
flattereth me with the hope of having the ear of Alexander.”
“I trust that the means of disseminating the faith of the
cross will not be overlooked in the negotiation; for it paineth
me to find churchmen treating of worldly things, to the
utter neglect of those of their Great Master.”
Don Ferdinand regarded his wife intently for an instant,
without making any reply. He perceived, as often happened
in questions of policy, that their feelings were not
exactly attuned, and he had recourse to an allusion that
seldom failed to draw the thoughts of Isabella from their
loftier aspirations to considerations more worldly, when
rightly applied.
“Thy children, Doña Isabella, will reap a goodly heritage
by the success of this, our latest and greatest stroke
of policy! Thy dominions and mine will henceforth descend
in common to the same heir; then this marriage in
Portugal may open the way to new accessions of territory,
Granada is already secured to thine, by our united arms;
and here hath Providence opened the way to an empire in
in Europe.”
“Are not my children thine, Fernando? Can good happen
to one, without its equally befalling the other? I trust
they will learn to understand why so many new subjects,
and such wide territories are added to their possessions,
and will ever remain true to their highest and first duty,
that of spreading the gospel, that the sway of the one Catholic
church may the more speedily be accomplished.”
“Still it may be necessary to secure advantages that are
offered in a worldly shape, by worldly means.”
“Thou sayest true, my lord; and it is the proper care
of loving parents to look well to the interest of their offspring
in this, as in all other particulars.”
Isabella now lent a more willing car to the politic suggestions
of her consort, and they passed an hour in discussing
some of the important measures that it was thought
their joint interests required should be immediately attended
to. After this Ferdinand saluted his wife affectionately,
and withdrew to his own cabinet, to labour, as usual, until
his frame demanded rest.
Isabella sate musing for a few minutes after the king had
retired, and then she took a light and proceeded through
certain private passages, with which she was familiar, to
the apartment of her daughters. Here she spent an hour,
indulging in the affections and discharging the duties of a
careful mother, when embracing each in turn, she gave her
blessings, and left the place in the same simple manner as
she had entered. Instead, however, of returning to her
own part of the palace, she pursued her way in an opposite
direction, until, reaching a private door, she gently tapped.
A voice within bade her enter, and complying, the Queen
of Castile found herself alone with her old and tried friend
the Marchioness of Moya. A quiet gesture forbade all the
usual testimonials of respect, and knowing her mistress's
wishes in this particular, the hostess received her illustrious
guest, much as she would have received an intimate of
her own rank in life.
“We have had so busy and joyful a day, daughter-marchioness,”
the queen commenced, quietly setting down the
little silver lamp she carried, “that I had near forgotten a
Count de Llera, hath returned to court, bearing himself as
modestly and as prudently, as if he had no share in the
glory of this great success of Colon's!”
“Señora, Luis is here, but whether prudent or modest, I
leave for others, who may be less partial, to say.”
“To me such seemeth to be his deportment, and a young
mind might be pardoned some exultation at such a result.
But I have come to speak of Don Luis and thy ward. Now
that thy nephew hath given this high proof of his perseverance
and courage, there can remain no longer any reason
for forbidding their union. Thou knowest that I hold the
pledged word of Doña Mercedes, not to marry without my
consent, and this night will I make her happy as I feel
myself, by leaving her mistress of her own wishes; nay,
by letting her know that I desire to see her Countess of
Llera, and that right speedily.”
“Your Highness is all goodness to me and mine,” returned
the Marchioness, coldly. “Mercedes ought to feel
deeply grateful that her royal mistress hath a thought for
her welfare, when her mind hath so many greater concerns
to occupy it.”
“It is that, my friend, that hath brought me hither at
this late hour. My soul is truly burthened with gratitude,
and ere I sleep, were it possible, I would fain make all as
blessed as I feel myself. Where is thy ward?”
“She left me for the night, but as your Highness entered.
I will summon her to hear your pleasure.”
“We will go to her, Beatriz; tidings such as I bring
should not linger on weary feet.”
“It is her duty, and it would be her pleasure to pay all
respect, Señora.”
“I know that well, Marchioness, but it is my pleasure to
bear this news myself,” interrupted the queen, leading the
way to the door. “Show thou the way, which is better
known to thee than to another. We go with little state and
ceremony, as thou seest, like Colon going forth to explore
his unknown seas, and we go bearers of tidings as grateful
to thy ward, as those the Genoese bore to the benighted natives
of Cipango. These corridors are our trackless seas,
explore.”
“Heaven grant your Highness make not some discovery
as astounding as that which the Genoese hath just divulged!
For myself, I scarce know whether to believe all things, or
to grant faith to none.”
“I wonder not at thy surprise; it is a feeling that hath
overcome all others, through the late extraordinary events,”
answered the queen, evidently misconceiving the meaning
of her friend's words. “But we have still another pleasure
in store; that of witnessing the joy of a pure female heart
which hath had its trials, and which hath borne them as
became a Christian maiden.”
Doña Beatriz sighed heavily, but she made no answer.
By this time they were crossing the little saloon in which
Mercedes was permitted to receive her female acquaintances,
and were near the door of her chamber. Here they met a
maid, who hastened onward to inform her mistress of the
visit she was about to receive. Isabella was accustomed to
use a mother's liberties with those she loved, and opening
the door, without ceremony, she stood before our heroine,
ere the latter could advance to meet her.
“Daughter,” commenced the queen, seating herself,
and smiling benignantly on the startled girl, “I have
come to discharge a solemn duty. Kneel thou here, at
my feet, and listen to thy sovereign as thou wouldst listen
to a mother.”
Mercedes gladly obeyed, for, at that moment, anything
was preferable to being required to speak. When she had
knelt, the queen passed an arm affectionately round her
neck, and drew her closer to her person, until, by a little
gentle violence, the face of Mercedes was hid in the folds
of Isabella's robe.
“I have all reason to extol thy faith and duty, child,”
said the queen, as soon as this little arrangement, to favour
the feelings of Mercedes, had been considerately made;
“thou hast not forgotten thy promise, in aught; and my
object, now, is to leave thee mistress of thine own inclinations,
and to remove all impediments to their exercise.
Thou hast no longer any pledge with thy sovereign; for,
may be surely trusted with her own happiness.”
Mercedes continued silent, though Isabella fancied that
she felt a slight shudder passing convulsively through her
delicate frame.
“No answer, daughter?—Is it more preferable to leave
another arbitress of thy fate, than to exercise that office
for thyself? Well, then, as thy sovereign and parent, I
will substitute command for consent, and tell thee it is my
wish and desire that thou becomest, as speedily as shall
comport with propriety and thy high station, the wedded
wife of Don Luis de Bobadilla, Conde de Llera.”
“No—no—no—Señora—never—never—” murmured
Mercedes, her voice equally stifled by her emotions, and by
the manner in which she had buried her face in the dress
of the queen.
Isabella looked at the Marchioness of Moya in wonder.
Her countenance did not express either displeasure or resentment,
for she too well knew the character of our heroine
to suspect caprice, or any weak prevarication in a matter
that so deeply touched the feelings; and the concern she
felt was merely overshadowed at the suddenness of the intelligence,
by a feeling of ungovernable surprise.
“Canst thou explain this, Beatriz?” the queen at length
inquired. “Have I done harm, where I most intended good?
I am truly unfortunate, for I appear to have deeply wounded
the heart of this child, at the very moment I fancied I was
conferring supreme happiness!”
“No — no — no — Señora,” again murmured Mercedes,
clinging convulsively to the queen's knees. “Your Highness
hath wounded no one — would wound no one — can
wound no one—you are all gracious goodness and thoughtfulness.”
“Beatriz, I look to thee for the explanation! Hath ought
justifiable occurred to warrant this change of feeling?”
“I fear, dearest Señora, that the feelings continue too
much as formerly, and that the change is not in this young
and unpractised heart, but in the fickle inclinations of man.”
A flash of womanly indignation darted from the usually
serene eyes of the queen, and her form assumed all of its
native majesty.
“Can this be true?” she exclaimed. “Would a subject
of Castile dare thus to trifle with his sovereign — thus to
trifle with one, sweet and pure as this girl — thus to trifle
with his faith with God! If the reckless Conde thinketh to
do these acts of wrongfulness with impunity, let him look
to it! Shall I punish him that merely depriveth his neighbour
of some paltry piece of silver, and let him escape who
woundeth the soul? I wonder at thy calmness, daughter-marchioness;
thou, who art so wont to let an honest indignation
speak out in the just language of a fearless and
honest spirit?”
“Alas! Señora, my beloved mistress, my feelings have
had vent already, and nature will no more. The boy,
moreover, is my brother's son, and when I would fain
arouse a resentment against him, such as befitteth his offence,
the image of that dear brother, whose very picture
he is, hath arisen to my mind in a way to weaken all its
energy.”
“This is most unusual! A creature so far—so young—
so noble—so rich—every way so excellent, to be so soon
forgotten! Canst thou account for it by any wandering
inclination, Lady of Moya?”
Isabella spoke musingly, and, as one of her high rank is
apt to overlook minor considerations, when the feelings are
strongly excited, she did not remember that Mercedes was
a listener. The convulsive shudder that again shook the
frame of our heroine, however, did not fail to remind her
of this fact, and the queen could not have pressed the princess
Juana more fondly to her heart, than she now drew
the yielding form of our heroine.
“What would you, Señora?” returned the Marchioness,
bitterly. “Luis, thoughtless and unprincipled boy as he is,
hath induced a youthful Indian princess to abandon home
and friends, under the pretence of swelling the triumph of
the admiral, but really, in obedience to a wandering fancy,
and in submission to those evil caprices, that make men
what, in sooth, they are, and which so often render unhappy
women their dupes and their victims.”
“An Indian princess, say'st thou?—The admiral made
one of that rank known to us, but she was already a wife,
and far from being one to rival Doña Mercedes of Valverde.”
“Ah! dearest Señora, she of whom you speak will not
compare with her I mean—Ozema—for so is the Indian
lady called—Ozema is a different being, and is not without
high claims to personal beauty. Could mere personal appearances
justify the conduct of the boy, he would not be
altogether without excuse.”
“How knowest thou this, Beatriz?”
“Because, your Highness, Luis hath brought her to the
palace, and she is, at this moment, in these very apartments.
Mercedes hath received her like a sister, even
while the stranger hath unconsciously crushed her heart.”
“Here, say'st thou, marchioness! Then can there be
no vicious upon between the thoughtless young man and
the stranger. Thy nephew would not thus presume to
offer virtue and innocence.”
“Of that we complain not, Señora. 'Tis the boyish inconstancy,
and thoughtless cruelty of the count, that hath
awakened my feelings against him. Never have I endeavoured
to influence my ward to favour his suit, for I would
not that they should have it in their power to say I sought
a union so honourable and advantageous to our house; but
now do I most earnestly desire her to steel her noble heart
to his unworthiness.”
“Ah! Señora — my guardian,” murmured Mercedes,
“Luis is not so very culpable. Ozema's beauty, and my
own want of the means to keep him true, are alone to
blame.”
“Ozema's beauty!” slowly repeated the queen. “Is this
young Indian, then, so very perfect, Beatriz, that thy ward
need fear, or envy her? I did not think that such a being
lived!”
“Your Highness knoweth how it is with men. They
love novelties, and are most captivated with the freshest
faces. San Iago!—Andres de Cabrera hath caused me to
know this, though it were a crime to suppose any could
teach this hard lesson to Isabella of Trastamara.”
“Restrain thy strong and impetuous feelings, daughter-marchioness,”
returned the queen, glancing her eye at the
bowed form of Mercedes, whose head was now buried in
her lap; “truth seldom asserts its fullest power when the
heart is overflowing with feeling. Don Andres hath been
Lord the King, he is the father of my children, as well as
thy sovereign.—But, touching this Ozema — can I see her,
Beatriz?”
“You have only to command, Señora, to see whom you
please. But Ozema is, no doubt, at hand, and can be
brought into your presence as soon as it may please your
Highness to order it done.”
“Nay, Beatriz, if she be a princess, and a stranger in
the kingdom, there is a consideration due to her rank and
to her position. Let Doña Mercedes go and prepare her to
receive us; I will visit her in her own apartment. The
hour is late, but she will overlook the want of ceremony in
the desire to do her service.”
Mercedes did not wait a second bidding, but, rising from
her knees, she hastened to do as the queen had suggested
Isabella and the Marchioness were silent some little time,
when left to themselves; then the former, as became her
rank, opened the discourse.
“It is remarkable, Beatriz, that Colon should not have
spoken to me of this princess!” she said. “One of her
condition ought not to have entered Spain with so little
ceremony.”
“The admiral hath deemed her the chosen subject of
Luis's care, and hath left her to be presented to your Highness
by my recreant nephew. Ah, Señora! is it not wonderful,
that one like Mercedes could be so soon supplanted
by a half-naked, unbaptized, benighted being, on whom the
church hath never yet smiled, and whose very soul may be
said to be in jeopardy of instantaneous condemnation?”
“That soul must be cared for, Beatriz, and that right
quickly. Is the princess really of sufficient beauty to supplant
a creature as lovely as the Doña Mercedes?”
“It is not that, Señora, — it is not that. But men are
fickle,—and they so love novelties! Then is the modest
restraint of cultivated manners, less winning to them, than
the freedom of those who deem even clothes superfluous. I
mean not to question the modesty of Ozema; for, according
to her habits, she seemeth irreproachable in this respect;
but the ill-regulated fancy of a thoughtless boy may find a
momentary attraction in her unfettered conduct and half-attired
high-born Spanish damsel, who hath been taught rigidly to
respect herself and her sex.”
“This may be true, as toucheth the vulgar, Beatriz, but
such unworthy motives can never influence the Conde de
Llera. If thy nephew hath really proved the recreant thou
supposest, this Indian princess must be of more excellence
than we have thought.”
“Of that, Señora, you can soon judge for yourself;
here is the maiden of Mercedes to inform us that the
Indian is ready to receive the honour that your Highness
intendeth.”
Our heroine had prepared Ozema to meet the queen. By
this time, the young Haytian had caught so many Spanish
words, that verbal communication with her was far from difficult,
though she still spoke in the disconnected and abrupt
manner of one to whom the language was new. She understood
perfectly that she was to meet that beloved sovereign,
of whom Luis and Mercedes had so often spoken with reverence;
and, accustomed herself, to look up to caciques
greater than her brother, there was no difficulty in making
her understand that the person she was now about to receive
was the first of her sex in Spain. The only misconception
which existed, arose from the circumstance that
Ozema believed Isabella to be the queen of all the Christian
world, instead of being the queen of a particular
country; for, in her imagination, both Luis and Mercedes
were persons of royal station.
Although Isabella was prepared to see a being of surprising
perfection of form, she started with surprise, as her eye
first fell on Ozema. It was not so much the beauty of the
young Indian, that astonished her, as the native grace of
her movements, the bright and happy expression of her
countenance, and the perfect self-possession of her mien
and deportment. Ozema had got accustomed to a degree
of dress that she would have found oppressive at Hayti; the
sensitiveness of Mercedes, on the subject of female propriety,
having induced her to lavish on her new friend many rich
articles of attire, that singularly, though wildly, contributed
to aid her charms. Still the gift of Luis was thrown over
one shoulder, as the highest-prized part of her wardrobe,
precious of all her ornaments.
“This is wonderful, Beatriz!” exclaimed the queen, as
she stood at one side of the room, while Ozema bowed her
body in graceful reverence on the other; “can this rare
being really have a soul that knoweth nought of its God and
Redeemer!—But let her spirit be benighted as it may, there
is no vice in that simple mind, or deceit in that pure heart.”
“Señora, all this is true. Spite of our causes of dissatisfaction,
my ward and I both love her already, and could
take her to our hearts for ever; one as a friend, and the
other as a parent.”
“Princess,” said the queen, advancing with quiet dignity
to the spot where Ozema stood, with downcast eyes and
bended body, waiting her pleasure, “thou art welcome to
our dominions. The admiral hath done well in not classing
one of thy evident claims and station among those whom
he hath exhibited to vulgar eyes. In this he hath shown
his customary judgment, no less than his deep respect for
the sacred office of sovereigns.”
“Almirante!” exclaimed Ozema, her looks brightening
with intelligence, for she had long known how to pronounce
the well-earned title of Columbus; “Almirante, Mercedes;
—Isabella, Mercedes—Luis, Mercedes, Señora Reyña.”
“Beatriz, what meaneth this? Why doth the princess
couple the name of thy ward with that of Colon, with mine,
and even with that of the young Count of Llera?”
“Señora, by some strange delusion, she hath got to think
that Mercedes is the Spanish term for every thing that is
excellent or perfect, and thus doth she couple it with all
that she most desireth to praise. Your Highness must observe
that she even united Luis and Mercedes, a union that
we once fondly hoped might happen, but which now would
seem to be impossible; and which she herself must be the
last really to wish.”
“Strange delusion!” repeated the queen; “the idea hath
had its birth in some particular cause, for things like this
come not of accidents; who but thy nephew, Beatriz, would
know aught of thy ward, or who but he would have taught
the princess to deem her very name a sign of excellence?”
“Señora!” exclaimed Mercedes, the colour mounting to
“can this be so?”
“Why not, daughter? We may have been too hasty in
this matter, and mistaken what are truly signs of devotion
to thee, for proofs of fickleness and inconstancy.”
“Ah! Señora! but this can never be, else would not
Ozema so love him.”
“How knowest thou, child, that the princess hath any
other feeling for the count than that which properly belongeth
to one who is grateful for his care, and for the inexpressible
service of being made acquainted with the virtues
of the cross? Here is some rash error, Beatriz.”
“I fear not, your Highness. Touching the nature of Ozema's
feelings, there can be no misconception, since the innocent
and unpractised creature hath not art sufficient to conceal
them. That her heart is all Luis's, we discovered in
the first few hours of our intercourse; and it is too pure,
unsought, to be won. The feeling of the Indian is not
merely admiration, but it is such a passionate devotion, as
partaketh of the warmth of that sun, which, we are told,
glows with a heat so genial in her native clime.”
“Could one see so much of Don Luis, Señora,” added
Mercedes, “under circumstances to try his martial virtues,
and so long daily be in communion with his excellent heart,
and not come to view him as far above all others?”
“Martial virtues—excellent heart!”—slowly repeated the
queen, “and yet so regardless of the wrong he doeth! He
is neither knight nor cavalier worthy of the sex, if what
thou thinkest be true, child.”
“Nay, Señora,” earnestly resumed the girl, whose diffidence
was yielding to the wish to vindicate our hero, “the
princess hath told us of the manner in which he rescued
her from her greatest enemy and persecutor, Caonabo, a
headstrong and tyrannical sovereign of her island, and of
his generous self-devotion in her behalf.”
“Daughter, do thou withdraw, and, first calling on Holy
Maria to intercede for thee, seek the calm of religious peace
and submission, on thy pillow. Beatriz, I will question the
princess alone.”
The Marchioness and Mercedes immediately withdrew,
leaving Isabella with Ozema, in possession of the room.
time being necessary to enable the queen to form an opinion
of the stranger's explanations, with the imperfect means of
communication she possessed. That Ozema's whole heart
was Luis's, Isabella could not doubt. Unaccustomed to conceal
her preferences, the Indian girl was too unpractised to
succeed in such a design, had she even felt the desire to
attempt it; but, in addition to her native ingenuousness,
Ozema believed that duty required her to have no concealments
from the sovereign of Luis, and she laid bare her
whole soul in the simplest and least disguised manner.
“Princess,” said the queen, after the conversation had
lasted some time, and Isabella believed herself to be in possession
of the means of comprehending her companion, “I
now understand your tale. Caonabo is the chief, or if thou
wilt, the king of a country adjoining thine own; he sought
thee for a wife, but being already married to more than one
princess, thou didst very properly reject his unholy proposals.
He then attempted to seize thee by violence. The
Conde de Llera was on a visit to thy brother at the
time—”
“Luis—Luis”—the girl impatiently interrupted in her
sweet soft voice—“Luis—no Conde—Luis.”
“True, princess, but the Conde de Llera and Luis de
Bobadilla are one and the same person. Luis, then, if thou
wilt, was present in thy palace, and he beat back the presumptuous
cacique, who, not satisfied with fulfilling the law
of God by the possession of one wife, impiously sought, in
thy person, a second, or a third, and brought thee off in
triumph. Thy brother, next, requested thee to take shelter,
for a time, in Spain, and Don Luis, becoming thy guardian
and protector, hath brought thee hither to the care of his
aunt?”
Ozema bowed her head in acknowledgment of the truth
of this statement, most of which she had no difficulty in
understanding, the subject having, of late, occupied so
much of her thoughts.
“And, now, princess,” continued Isabella, “I must speak
to thee with maternal frankness, for I deem all of thy birth
my children while they dwell in my realms, and have a
right to look to me for advice and protection. Hast thou
thine own country, and to adopt his in its stead?”
“Ozema don't know what `adopt his,' means,” observed
the puzzled girl.
“I wish to inquire if thou would'st consent to become
the wife of Don Luis de Bobadilla?”
“Wife” and “husband” were words of which the Indian
girl had early learned the signification, and she smiled
guilelessly, even while she blushed, and nodded her assent.
“I am, then, to understand that thou expect'st to marry
the Count, for no modest young female, like thee, would so
cheerfully avow her preference, without having that hope
ripened in her heart, to something like certainty.”
“Sì, Señora—Ozema, Luis' wife.”
“Thou meanest, princess, that Ozema expecteth shortly
to wed the Count—shortly to become his wife?”
“No—no—no—Ozema now Luis' wife. Luis marry
Ozema, already.”
“Can this be so?” exclaimed the queen, looking steadily
into the face of the beautiful Indian to ascertain if the
whole were not an artful deception. But the open and innocent
face betrayed no guilt, and Isabella felt compelled to
believe what she had heard. In order, however, to make
certain of the fact, she questioned and cross-questioned
Ozema, for near half an hour longer, and always with the
same result.
When the queen arose to withdraw, she kissed the
princess, for so she deemed this wild creature of an unknown
and novel state of society, and whispered a devout
prayer for the enlightenment of her mind, and for her future
peace. On reaching her own apartment, she found
the Marchioness of Moya in attendance, that tried friend
being unable to sleep until she had learned the impressions
of her royal mistress.
“'T is even worse than we had imagined, Beatriz,” said
Isabella, as the other closed the door behind her. “Thine
heartless, inconstant, nephew hath already wedded the Indian,
and she is, at this moment, his lawful wife.”
“Señora, there must be some mistake in this! The rash
boy would hardly dare to practise this imposition on me,
and that in the very presence of Mercedes.”
“He would sooner place his wife in thy care, daughter-marchioness,
than make the same disposition of one who
had fewer claims on him. But there can be no mistake.
I have questioned the princess closely, and no doubt remaineth
in my mind, that the nupitals have been solemnized
by religious rites. It is not easy to understand all she
would wish to say, but that much she often and distinctly
hath affirmed.”
“Your Highness — can a Christian contract marriage
with one that is yet unbaptised?”
“Certainly not, in the eye of the church, which is the
eye of God. But I rather think Ozema hath received this
holy rite, for she often pointed to the cross she weareth,
when speaking of the union with thy nephew. Indeed,
from her allusions, I understood her to say that she became
a Christian, ere she became a wife.”
“And that blessed cross, Señora, was a gift of Mercedes
to the reckless, fickle-minded boy; a parting gift, in which
the holy symbol was intended to remind him of constancy
and faith!”
“The world maketh so many inroads into the hearts of
men, Beatriz, that they know not woman's reliance and
woman's fidelity. But to thy knees, and bethink thee of
asking for grace to sustain thy ward, in this cruel, but unavoidable,
extremity.”
Isabella now turned to her friend, who advanced and
raised the hand of her royal mistress to her lips. The
queen, however, was not content with this salutation, warm
as it was; passing an arm around the neck of Doña Beatriz,
she drew her to her person, and imprinted a kiss on
her forehead.
“Adieu, Beatriz—true friend as thou art!” she said. “If
constancy hath deserted all others, it hath still an abode in
thy faithful heart.”
With these words the queen and the marchioness separated
each to find her pillow, if not her repose.
| CHAPTER XII. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay | |