University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

“Have you sounded these Portuguese brothers, as I counselled
you?” was the inquiry of De Soto.

The brow of Don Balthazar slightly darkened as he answered:

“It is not easy to sound them. They are suspicious and resentful.
The jealousies of our people have made them so; and
you have been able to offer them no position. I should have
preferred, were this possible, that one of them should have this
very office you propose to confer upon Vasco Porcallo.”

“That is out of the question.”

“I feel it; and yet, beyond the hope of profit, which is felt
by the commonest arquebusier in the army, what is the motive
for the enterprise on the part of these brothers? They are both
young and noble—ambitious and full of valor. Their followers
are few, it is true, but they will make good fight; and really, the
abilities of the elder brother, Philip de Vasconselos, are probably
of greater value than those of any of your cavaliers. The
companion of De Vaça, he hath traversed all these wilds of Florida,
and probably knoweth all the secrets of which De Vaça made
such glorious boast and mystery Besides, he speaks and understands
the language of the natives; an advantage of which it
is difficult to measure the importance. Of his valor and conduct
we have sufficient testimony of our own eyes, even if the
evidence of other witnesses were wanting; De Vaça himself
spoke of him as one of the most prudent and valiant of his
cavaliers.”

“All this, I wot,” answered the other impatiently, “but what
of thy mission? what mean they by the reserve which seeks
me not, and the change of mood which makes them declare
themselves doubtful whether or not to proceed upon the enterprise?”

“They have spoken somewhat of the evident dislike and
jealousies of certain of our knights, to say nothing of the rude
disfavor of the common soldiers.”

“This alone should show them how impossible it would be to
give them command over our Spaniards. Are they not satisfied
of this?”

“Yet doth it also afford sufficient reason why they should be
unwilling to proceed in any enterprise with companions so unreasonable,
for whom they will peril life and fortune, and from
whom they can expect nothing in return.”

“And thou hast gathered nothing further from thy inquiries
into this matter? Hath nothing occurred to thy own thought
and observation to add force to the difficulty which thou hast
seen so clearly, and which thou hold'st so weighty? Bethink
thee, Don Balthazar, hast thou not a niece, a damsel lovely as
any that ever blossomed in bright Castile? These knights of
Portugal have looked upon the maiden with eyes of love? Ha!
Is't not so? Dost thou not see it?”

The brow of the person addressed again darkened as this
suggestion met his ears. His lips might be seen more closely to
contract together. He was about to speak when the rustling of
silken garments at the entrance announced a new visitor; and
the door opened, a moment after, for the admission of the lady
of the adelantado. Both knights approached her as she appeared,
with shows of the most profound deference.

“Am I permitted to attend these solemn councils?” was the
inquiry of the noble lady as she passed into the apartment; her
voice softly attuned to the playful question, and her lips parting
with the sweetest smiles.

“To one who so admirably unites the wisdom of the one,
with the virtues of the other sex—the strength and dignity of

manhood with the grace and loveliness of woman—counsel herself
must willingly incline her ear. We were foes to wisdom
did we refuse to hearken to the words of her best favorite.”

The stately compliment, so perfectly Spanish, was from the
lips of Don Balthazar, upon whom the lady smiled most
sweetly, not wholly insensible, it would seem, to the honeyed
flattery.

“Now, verily,” exclaimed De Soto, who beheld the expression
in her face; “now, verily, hath this politician won thy
whole heart by the silliest speech. He is like the cunning knave
who possesseth counterfeit castellanoes, who, knowing their just
worthlessness, yet circulates them for the value which they derive
only from the ignorance of him who receives. He hath put
his copper trinket upon thee, and will look for the golden one in
return, even as we look to our Floridian savage for the precious
metals, in exchange for others, which are as dear to his eyes, as
despicable in ours. Is it not so, my lady? And yet, if thou art
thus easily put upon, what shall be my security, leaving the
government of Cuba in thy hands?”

“Oh! fear nothing, my lord; I shall ere long become schooled
in all the subtleties of thy politicians, so that thy government
shall have no wrong during thy absence. Be not deceived, my
good lord, in the supposed estimate which our sex makes of the
flatteries of thine. We receive the coin that thou offerest, not
because we overvalue it or esteem it very highly, but simply as
we know that it is quite too commonly the most precious which
ye have to offer. Were sincerity one of the virtues of the man,
we should perhaps never listen to his flatteries; but it were unreasonable
to reject his false tokens, when we know that such
constitute his whole treasure; and we receive the tribute of his
lips only in the absence of all better securities lodged within his
heart. It is something of an acknowledgment, in behalf of our
authority, that he is solicitous to show the devotion which he
has not always the nobleness to feel.”

“Ha! Señor Balthazar, we gain nothing by this banter. Our
lady knows that our gold is copper. It is for such only that

she takes it. Shrewdly spoken, by my faith; and yet it might
be as shrewdly said, in reply, why receive the counterfeit at all,
knowing so well its worthlessness, unless it were that the dependency
of the one sex upon the other, rendered any gift of
the man sufficiently precious, (though worthless in itself,) in the
eyes of the woman.”

“Now out upon thee for a heathen savage! Thou art not
satisfied with shaming Don Balthazar with his tribute, but thou
must shame me with the pleasure I feel in receiving it at his
hands. I would thou wert fairly on thy march among the Floridian,
that I might play the tyrant in thy government of Cuba,
to the peril of thy insolent sex! But proceed to thy councils,
if there be nothing unfit for the ears of the woman. I have
need to sound the depths of all thy policy in other respects,
since I am to play sovereign in thy place hereafter.”

The noble lady, speaking playfully, had, in the meanwhile,
with a grace peculiarly her own, sunk down upon the divan of
orange, from which Don Balthazar had risen to receive her. Few
persons, not actually born in the purple, were so well endowed
to honor it, and to wield authority with sweetness. The daughter
of Don Pedrarias Davila, a man distinguished, unhappily, quite
as much by his cruel treatment of the famous Vasco Nunez de
Balboa, the discoverer of the Pacific, as by his own deeds and
successes, Isabella de Bobadilla, inherited the pride and dignity
of her father's character, without those taints of vindictiveness
and passion which had rendered him odious among his inferiors.
She possessed that happy prudence which never forgets what
is due to the humanities and the affections in the moment of
power and good fortune. She was wiser than the greater number
of her sex; calm in the hour of trial, full of provident forethought,
with a mind quite equal to the government about to
devolve upon her, and with a heart devoted to that lord who
was about to leave her for a protracted season in a perilous progress,
to which he was induced by the single persuasions of ambition.
He had found her an admirable counsellor and ally, in
making his preparations for the expedition; and, in penetrating

his chamber of council without a summons, she was yet satisfied,
from past experience, that her presence in such a place was
never wholly unacceptable or unprofitable! When, therefore,
she declared her pleasure to remain, unless the topics under
discussion should prove ungracious in the hearing of her sex, the
ready answer of her husband entreated her to do so, whilst
assuring her against the exception which she expressed.

“Nay, Isabella,” said he; “it particularly concerns thy sex,
that of which we are to speak, and much of what has been
spoken. Know then, in the first place, that thou art to prepare
thy lovely handmaid, the damsel Leonora, for her nuptials with
Nuno de Tobar.”

“Thou hast then adjusted that matter?” said the lady, with a
grave accent and demeanor.

“It is settled, and without anger or difficulty. It is for thee to
decide upon the hour of the bridal. Let it be soon, for we must
have dispatch, and advise with the damsel ere the day be sped.
But there is yet another matter connected with thy sex which
troubles me, and prevents my purpose. Their mischievous influence
hath been at work upon my bravest cavaliers. Thou
knowest these two young knights of Portugal. I need not tell
thee of their worth, their valor, and the great importance to the
expedition of the elder brother, Philip de Vasconselos, who hath
already sped over all the territory of the Floridian, and is familiar
with the heathen speech of its people. Now, it so happens
that these two young gallants grow indifferent to the enterprise.
They have held themselves somewhat aloof from me of late, and
words have been heard to fall from their lips, which declare their
doubts whether they will accompany the expedition, as was their
purpose when they joined our armament at Seville.”

“And canst thou not guess the reason for this change of purpose?”
demanded the lady, with a smile.

“Ay, verily! Thy smile tells me that I am right in ascribing
their fickleness of purpose to the persuasions and artifices of thy
sex. Our grave Señor, Don Balthazar de Alvaro, will have it
due only to the jealousies of our Spaniards, with whom these

men of Portugal find but little favor. Something there may be
in this, doubtless; but, I trow, it would never be sufficient to
discourage such young gallants, known for their bravery, and
ambitious of wealth and distinction, were it not for the charms of
the Lady Olivia, his fair niece,—”

“It may be that thou art right in thy conjecture,” said Don
Balthazar, interrupting the speaker, his brow again darkening as
if with displeasure; “but it will profit them little that they turn
their eyes in the direction of my niece. Olivia de Alvaro is
scarcely the proper game for either of these knights of Portugal.”

“And wherefore, Señor?” was the quick inquiry of Doña
Isabella. “These are brave and honorable gentlemen, both; of
—as we know—a family as noble as any in Portugal. They
have not wealth, it is true, but they have the qualities of
strength, courage, and enterprise, which in these days of `Golden
Cathays,' everywhere achieve wealth, and make obscure
names famous. I see not why you should so sternly resolve
against the devotion which they seem disposed to offer to your
niece.”

Don Balthazar trod the floor in a stern silence, while the Adelantado
took up the words,—

“Thou hast forgotten another matter, my lady, which seemeth
to me of no small import in this case. If I mistake not greatly,
the decision of the Lady Olivia herself will surely be more indulgent
than that of her guardian, in relation to these young
knights of Portugal.”

“But I am her guardian, your excellency, and my niece is but
a child.—”

“Seventeen is a goodly age for female judgment, Señor, in
affairs of the affections,” was the answer of the lady. “But
thou surely wilt not oppose the authority of the guardian to the
wishes of thy niece, when these fasten upon a person of whose
worth and nobleness there can be no question.”

“Ah! but I know not that,” was the quick reply of Don Balthazar.
“I see not—I believe not—that the affections of Olivia
incline to either of these Portuguese adventurers.”

“Deceive not thyself, Señor,” said the Lady Isabella. “Men
are seldom the best judges of such matters, especially where
they are grave senators and busy politicians. You have quite
too many concerns to demand your study—too many cares of
business and fortune to suffer you to give much heed to the tendency
of a young and feminine heart. I claim to understand it
better, and I tell thee, Señor, that if ever woman loved cavalier,
with all her soul, and with all her strength, then doth Olivia
de Alvaro love this elder knight of Portugal, whom they call
Philip de Vasconselos.”

“I believe it not! You are deceived, Lady Isabella. I am
sure that such is not the case. But if it were, I should be false to the
duties I have undertaken to suffer her inclinations to have sway
in this. This Philip de Vasconselos may have his virtues; yet
what is he but a beggarly adventurer, who has squandered his
birthright in wanderings where the better wisdom has always
succeeded in acquiring it?”

“Not always, Señor, unless old proverbs fail us. The best
wisdom is but too commonly the last to secure the smiles of Fortune.
Have not your poets made her feminine, and with twofold
sarcasm made her caprices to resemble ours? Say they
not, that he is most apt to win her favor who less does for, and
less deserves it; and shape they not their sarcasm in such wise
as to salve the hurts of self-esteem, by recognizing the propriety
of that favor which provides for him who would never be able,
of his own wits, to provide for himself? You shall do no slander
to this knight of Portugal, Philip de Vasconselos, who, verily, is
a man of thought as well as of valor. I have enjoyed his wisdom
with a rare delight, and if his valor keep any rate of pace
with his judgment, he should be a famous leader in such adventure
as that on which ye go. For the younger brother, I can
scarcely speak so favorably. He seemeth at once less wise and
more presuming. He speaks as one confident in himself, and I
should deem him quite as rash and ill-advised as valiant;—nay
more, he hath the manner of a man whom small griefs unreasonably
inflame,—who is irritable of mood, suspicious of those

about him, jealous of the good fame of his companions, and one
of too little faith in others to be altogether worthy of faith himself.
But it is not of him that we need to speak. He hath, I
fancy, but little chance of success with our fair cousin, though it
is evident he hath a passion for her quite as earnest as that of his
elder brother.”

“What sayest thou, Señor?” demanded De Soto, as his wife
concluded.

“What should I say, your excellency,” replied the latter,
somewhat doggedly,—“save that my niece is in my keeping?
She will not, I think, gainsay my judgment in this matter by
opposing it with her own.”

“Will she not?” demanded the lady, with a smile. “We
shall see, Señor, who better understands the heart of woman.
Bethink you, it is upon no ordinary matter that you ask her to
forego her judgment. The fate of woman is in the resolve which
she shall make for or against her heart. Her whole life is in the
love which she feels; and this denied, or this possessed, determines
her existence. She hath a rare instinct which teaches her
all this. Submissive in all other respects, she here grows resolute
and strong; and she whom you knew for many seasons the
dove only, shall, when the heart demands such will and courage,
assume the fierce courage of the falcon. Believe it or not,
Olivia de Alvaro loves this knight of Portugal; and so loving,
you shall not say nay to her desire, and find no resistance to
your will.”

“It may be,” was the answer of the other, his brow still darkened,
but a sinister smile at the same moment curling his lips,
though scarce perceptible to those about him. That he was
chafed beyond his wont, was still apparent.

“Verily, Señor Balthazar,” said De Soto, “this thing hath
angered you. You will do well to bear it calmly. Our lady is
surely right. The heart of thy niece hath made its choice, as
certainly as that Philip de Vasconselos hath resolved on his; and
thou wilt be wise to put on a friendly countenance when they

come to declare their desires. Thou wilt scarcely find a nobler
cavalier in all Spain upon whom to bestow her fortune.”

“And will you that I should encourage a passion which will
tend to baffle thy own desires?” demanded Don Balthazar.

“How so,—what meanest thou?” was the inquiry of De Soto,
who looked the alarm which he really felt.

“See'st thou not that the bridal of Philip de Vasconselos with
Olivia de Alvaro is conclusive against his progress with the expedition?
With her estates in Cuba to occupy his thoughts,—with
her wealth in which to luxuriate,—wherefore should he incur the
peril of the Floridian enterprise?”

“And wherefore should my lord himself incur such peril, Señor
Balthazar?” was the quick and energetic reply of the lady.
“Hath he not estates in Cuba, a government to demand his care,
and wealth enough with which to procure all the luxuries of the
island? Yet he will leave all these—he will leave me, but lately
his newly-wedded bride—and one, I trow, not wholly without hold
upon his heart—and go forth upon adventures of incomparable
peril. But this belongs to the passion of a knightly ambition—a
generous impatience of the dull paces of the common life;—an
eager and noble appetite after conquest, and the glory which it
brings! Of this same temper, seems to me the ambition of this
knight of Portugal, who hath been regardless of wealth only as
he hath been heedful of honor,—and whose pride it is rather to
win a glorious name, than a golden habitation. Thou shalt not
disparage this quest, Señor, since it is one which is ever precious
in the sight of a generous knighthood.”

“You speak it bravely, my lady; but shall not persuade me
that this knight of Portugal would wed my niece only to depart
from her. He shall need some time after the nuptials, ere his
ambition shall assert itself. His love of distinction will doubtless
bring him after the adelantado—but with slow footsteps, and
when his lance shall be no longer needful to success.”

“This is, indeed, a matter to be thought on, Don Balthazar,”
was the reply of De Soto, looking gravely, and evidently touched

by the suggestion of the other. “There is surely reason in what
thou hast spoken. I had not thought of this before.”

The interruption of the Lady Isabella was almost instantaneous.

“Nor must you think of it now, my Lord, as a thing which
should move you to encourage Don Balthazar in his hostility to
the affections of his niece. Doubtless, the loss of this young
knight will be somewhat felt by you in this expedition. I can
easily understand the value of such a lance, and that which is due
to his particular experience with the Floridian. But shall these
things justify a wrong done to fond hearts that merit only fondness?
Are the affections of so sweet and tender a woman as
Olivia de Alvaro to be set at naught, because of thy or my ambition?
Let us be just and generous, my lord. Give these
young people way! Let them be happy, if they may, in mutual
love. That they do love, I see,—I am sure. It is a strange
blindness of Señor Balthazar which will not suffer him to see as
we do;—a strange blindness which refuses to see in this young
knight, a noble and a fitting husband for his niece. If we may
not move him to be friendly to their desires, let us not encourage
him in an opposition which I foresee will be only as fruitless as
unwise.”

“Fruitless!” exclaimed Don Balthazar, with a somewhat bitter
smile. “We shall see. We shall see!”

“Hear me yet farther, Don Hernan, my gracious lord.
There is one process by which to test the strength of this young
knight's passion. If his love shall falter in the struggle with his
ambition, then I shall rather glad me that Olivia goes far from
his regards. You owe to these good people of Cuba some special
ceremonials ere taking your departure. There needs a still more
imposing display of your power, at once to reward their devotion,
and to confirm your authority, during your absence, in my
feeble hands. Order a splendid tournament for an early day
preceding your departure. Let there be prizes for valor to win,
and beauty to bestow. Spare nothing that shall kindle to the
utmost the chivalrous ambition in your followers; and let all
things be done, as it were, to furnish a foretaste of the treasures

and the achievements which await the valiant among the heathen.
There shall be sharp trials of skill and strength among your
knights, and those of Portugal shall not be wanting. Build upon
this for the temptations which are to confirm them in their first
purpose of exploring and conquering the golden cities of the
Floridian.”

“Now hath Doña Isabella counselled truly, as hath ever been
her wont,” said Don Balthazar, eagerly seizing upon a suggestion
which promised somewhat, however vaguely, to assist in extricating
him from a difficulty which, it was evident to his superior,
was one of unusual annoyance.

“Both of these brothers,” he continued, “cherish an eager anxiety
for distinction in tilt and tourney. Thus far, they have suffered
no sports of this character to escape them; and one which
shall make an event in Cuba long to be remembered with wonder
and delight, shall surely reawaken in their bosom all their most
earnest appetites for fame. Let them but draw the eyes of all
cavaliers upon themselves in this tourney, and they shall scarcely,
through very shame, be enabled to escape the necessity of joining
in the enterprise.

“It shall be done,” said De Soto, with the air of a man suddenly
relieved from his anxieties. “Thou hast counselled, my
lady, with as just a knowledge of our sex and its vanities, as of
thine own and its sympathies. And now for the plan of this
tournament. We shall need for this, not only thy help, Señor
Balthazar, but that also of that scape-grace, Nuno de Tobar.
We have taken him to favor at the proper season.”

The difficulties of the discussion were fairly at an end. The
plans for the future festivities need not call for consideration
now.