Kabanata Kabanata 7 · THE GENEROUS LOVER

"O lamentable ruins of the ill-fated Nicosia,[76] still moist with the

blood of your valorous and unfortunate defenders! Were you capable of

feeling, we might jointly bewail our disasters in this solitude, and

perhaps find some relief for our sorrows in mutually declaring them. A

hope may remain that your dismantled towers may rise again, though not

for so just a defence as that in which they fell; but I, unfortunate!

what good can I hope for in my wretched distress, even should I return

to my former state? Such is my hard fate, that in freedom I was without

happiness, and in captivity I have no hope of it."

[76] A city of Cyprus, taken from the Venetians by the Turks in 1570.

These words were uttered by a captive Christian as he gazed from an

eminence on the ruined walls of Nicosia; and thus he talked with them,

comparing his miseries with theirs, as if they could understand him,--a

common habit with the afflicted, who, carried away by their

imaginations, say and do things inconsistent with all sense and reason.

Meanwhile there issued from a pavilion or tent, of which there were four

pitched in the plain, a young Turk, of good-humoured and graceful

appearance, who approached the Christian, saying, "I will lay a wager,

friend Ricardo, that the gloomy thoughts you are continually ruminating

have led you to this place."

"It is true," replied Ricardo, for that was the captive's name; "but

what avails it, since, go where I will, I find no relief from them; on

the contrary, the sight of yonder ruins have given them increased

force."

"You mean the ruins of Nicosia?"

"Of course I do, since there are no others visible here."

"Such a sight as that might well move you to tears," said the Turk;

"for any one who saw this famous and plenteous isle of Cyprus about two

years ago, when its inhabitants enjoyed all the felicity that is granted

to mortals, and who now sees them exiled from it, or captive and

wretched, how would it be possible not to mourn over its calamity? But

let us talk no more of these thing's, for which there is no remedy, and

speak of your own, for which I would fain find one. Now I entreat you,

by what you owe me for the good-will I have shown you, and for the fact

that we are of the same country, and were brought up together in

boyhood, that you tell me what is the cause of your inordinate sadness.

For even, admitting that captivity alone is enough to sadden the most

cheerful heart in the world, yet I imagine that your sorrows have a

deeper source; for generous spirits like yours do not yield to ordinary

misfortunes so much as to betray extraordinary grief on account of them.

Besides, I know that you are not so poor as to be unable to pay the sum

demanded for your ransom; nor are you shut up in the castles of the

Black Sea as a captive of consideration, who late or never obtains the

liberty he sighs for. Since, then, you are not deprived of the hope of

freedom, and yet manifest such deep despondency, I cannot help thinking

that it proceeds from some other cause than the loss of your liberty. I

entreat you to tell me what is that cause, and I offer you my help to

the utmost of my means and power. Who knows but that it was in order

that I might serve you that fortune induced me to wear this dress which

I abhor.

"You know, Ricardo, that my master is the cadi (which is the same thing

as the bishop) of this city. You know, too, how great is his power, and

my influence with him. Moreover, you are not ignorant of the ardent

desire I feel not to die in this creed, which I nominally profess; but

if it can be done in no other way, I propose to confess and publicly cry

aloud my faith in Jesus Christ, from which I lapsed by reason of my

youth and want of understanding. Such a confession I know will cost me

my life, which I will give freely, that I may not lose my soul. From all

this I would have you infer, and be assured, that my friendship may be

of some use to you. But that I may know what remedies or palliations

your case may admit of, it is necessary that you explain it to me, as

the sick man does to the doctor, taking my word for it, that I will

maintain the strictest secrecy concerning it."

Ricardo, who had listened in silence all this while, finding himself at

last obliged to reply, did so as follows: "If, as you have guessed

rightly, respecting my misfortune, friend Mahmoud," (that was the Turk's

name,) "so also you could hit upon the remedy for it, I should think my

liberty well lost, and would not exchange my mischance for the greatest

imaginable good fortune. But I know that it is such, that though all the

world should know the cause whence it proceeds, no one ever would make

bold to find for it a remedy, or even an alleviation. That you may be

satisfied of this truth, I will relate my story to you, as briefly as I

can; but before I enter upon the confused labyrinth of my woes, tell me

what is the reason why my master, Hassan Pasha, has caused these

pavilions to be pitched here in the plain, before he enters Nicosia, to

which he has been appointed pasha, as the Turks call their viceroys."

"I will satisfy you briefly," replied Mahmoud. "You must know, then,

that it is the custom among the Turks, for those who are sent as

viceroys of any province, not to enter the city in which their

predecessor dwells until he quits it, and leaves the new comer to take

up his residence freely; and when the new pasha has done so, the old one

remains encamped beyond the walls, waiting the result of the inquiry

into his administration, which is made without his being able to

interfere, and avail himself of bribery or affection, unless he has done

so beforehand. The result of the inquiry, enrolled on a sealed

parchment, is then given to the departing pasha, and this he must

present to the Sublime Porte, that is to say, the court in front of the

grand council of the Turk. It is then read by the vizier pasha and the

four lesser pashas, (or, as we should say, by the president and members

of the royal council,) who punish or reward the bearer according to its

contents; though, if these are not favourable, he buys off his

punishment with money. If there is no accusation against him, and he is

not rewarded, as commonly happens, he obtains by means of presents the

post he most desires; for, at that court, offices are not bestowed by

merit, but for money; everything is bought and sold. The bestowers of

office fleece the receivers; but he who purchases a post, makes enough

by it to purchase another which promises more profit.

"Everything proceeds as I tell you; in this empire all is violence: a

fact which betokens that it will not be durable; but, as I full surely

believe, it is our sins that uphold it, the sins, I mean, of those who

imprudently and forwardly offend God, as I am doing: may he forgive me

in his mercy!

"It is, then, for the reason I have stated that your master, Hassan

Pasha, has been encamped here four days, and if the Pasha of Nicosia has

not come out as he should have done, it is because he has been very ill.

But he is now better, and he will come out to-day or to-morrow without

fail, and lodge in some tents behind this hill, which you have not seen,

after which your master will immediately enter the city. And now I have

replied to the question you put to me."

"Listen, then, to my story," said Ricardo, "but I know not if I shall be

able to fulfil my promise to be brief, since my misfortune is so vast

that it cannot be comprised within any reasonable compass of words.

However, I will do what I may and as time allows. Let me ask you, in the

first place, if you knew in our town of Trapani, a young lady whom fame

pronounced to be the most beautiful woman in Sicily? A young lady, I

say, of whom the most ingenious tongues, and the choicest wits declared

that her beauty was the most perfect ever known in past ages or the

present, or that may be looked for in the future. One, of whom the poets

sang that she had hair of gold, that her eyes were two shining suns, her

cheeks roses, her teeth pearls, her lips rubies, her neck alabaster; and

that every part of her made with the whole, and the whole with every

part, a marvellous harmony and consonance, nature diffusing all over her

such an exquisite sweetness of tone and colour, that envy itself could

not find a fault in her. How is it possible, Mahmoud, that you have not

already named her? Surely you have either not listened to me, or when

you were in Trapani you wanted common sensibility."

"In truth, Ricardo," replied Mahmoud, "if she whom you have depicted in

such glowing colours is not Leonisa, the daughter of Rodolfo Florencio,

I know not who she is, for that lady alone was famed as you have

described."

"Leonisa it is, Mahmoud," exclaimed Ricardo; "Leonisa is the sole cause

of all my bliss and all my sorrow; it is for her, and not for the loss

of liberty, that my eyes pour forth incessant tears, my sighs kindle the

air, and my wailings weary heaven and the ears of men. It is she who

makes me appear in your eyes a madman, or at least a being devoid of

energy and spirit. This Leonisa, so cruel to me, was not so to another,

and this is the cause of my present miserable plight. For you must know

that, from my childhood, or at least from the time I was capable of

understanding, I not only loved, but adored and worshipped her, as

though I knew no other deity on earth. Her parents and relations were

aware of my affection for her, and never showed signs of disapproving

it, for they knew that my designs were honourable and virtuous; and I

know that they often said as much to Leonisa, in order to dispose her to

receive me as her betrothed; but she had set her heart on Cornelio, the

son of Ascanio Rotulo, whom you well know--a spruce young gallant,

_point-de-vice_ in his attire, with white hands, curly locks,

mellifluous voice, amorous discourse--made up, in short, of amber and

sugar-paste, garnished with plumes and brocade. She never cared to

bestow a look on my less dainty face, nor to be touched in the least by

my assiduous courtship; but repaid all my affection with disdain and

abhorrence; whilst my love for her grew to such an extreme, that I

should have deemed my fate most blest if she had killed me by her scorn,

provided she did not bestow open, though maidenly, favours on Cornelio.

Imagine the anguish of my soul, thus lacerated by her disdain, and

tortured by the most cruel jealousy. Leonisa's father and mother winked

at her preference for Cornelio, believing, as they well might, that the

youth, fascinated by her incomparable beauty, would chose her for his

wife, and thus they should have a wealthier son-in-law than myself. That

he might have been; but they would not have had one (without arrogance,

be it said) of better birth than myself, or of nobler sentiments or more

approved worth.

"Well, in the course of my wooing, I learned one day last May, that is

to say, about a year ago, that Leonisa and her parents, Cornelio and

his, accompanied by all their relations and servants had gone to enjoy

themselves in Ascanio's garden, close to the sea shore on the road to

the Saltpits.

"I know the place well," interrupted Mahmoud, "and passed many a merry

day there in better times. Go on, Ricardo."

"The moment I received information of this party, such an infernal fury

of jealousy possessed my soul that I was utterly distraught, as you will

see, by what I straightway did; and that was to go to the garden, where

I found the whole party taking their pleasure, and Cornelio and Leonisa

seated together under a nopal-tree, a little apart from the rest.

"What were their sensations on seeing me I know not, all I know is that

my own were such that a cloud came over my sight, and I was like a

statue without power of speech or motion. But this torpor soon gave way

to choler, which roused my heart's blood, and unlocked my hands and my

tongue. My hands indeed were for a while restrained by respect for that

divine face before me; but my tongue at least broke silence.

"'Now hast thou thy heart's content,' I cried, 'O mortal enemy of my

repose, thine eyes resting with so much composure on the object that

makes mine a perpetual fountain of tears! Closer to him! Closer to him,

cruel girl! Cling like ivy round that worthless trunk. Comb and part the

locks of that new Ganymede, thy lukewarm admirer. Give thyself up wholly

to the capricious boy on whom thy gaze is fixed, so that losing all hope

of winning thee I may lose too the life I abhor. Dost thou imagine,

proud, thoughtless girl, that the laws and usages which are acknowledged

in such cases by all mankind, are to give way for thee alone? Dost thou

imagine that this boy, puffed up with his wealth, vain of his looks,

presuming upon his birth, inexperienced from his youth, can preserve

constancy in love, or be capable of estimating the inestimable, or know

what riper years and experience know? Do not think it. One thing alone

is good in this world, to act always consistently, so that no one be

deceived unless it be by his own ignorance. In extreme youth there is

much inconstancy; in the rich there is pride; in the arrogant, vanity;

in men who value themselves on their beauty, there is disdain; and in

one who unites all these in himself, there is a fatuity which is the

mother of all mischief.

"'As for thee, boy, who thinkest to carry off so safely a prize more

due to my earnest love than to thy idle philandering, why dost thou not

rise from that flowery bank, and tear from my bosom the life which so

abhors thine? And that not for the insult thou puttest upon myself, but

because thou knowest not how to prize the blessing which fortune bestows

upon thee. 'Tis plain, indeed, how little thou esteemest it, since thou

wilt not budge to defend it for fear of ruffling the finical arrangement

of thy pretty attire. Had Achilles been of as placid temper as thou art,

Ulysses would certainly have failed in his attempt, for all his show of

glittering arms and burnished helmets. Go, play among thy mother's

maids; they will help thee to dress thy locks and take care of those

dainty hands that are fitter to wind silk than to handle a sword.'

"In spite of all these taunts Cornelio never stirred from his seat, but

remained perfectly still, staring at me as if he was bewitched. The loud

tones in which I spoke had brought round us all the people who were

walking in the garden, and they arrived in time to hear me assail

Cornelio with many other opprobrious terms. Plucking up heart, at last,

from the presence of numbers, most of whom were his relations, servants,

or friends, he made a show as if he would rise; but before he was on his

feet my sword was out, and I attacked not him only but all who were

before me. The moment Leonisa saw the gleam of my sword she swooned

away, which only exasperated my frantic rage. I know not whether it was

that those whom I assailed contented themselves with acting on the

defensive as against a raving madman, or that it was my own good luck

and adroitness, or Heaven's design to reserve me for greater ills, but

the fact was that I wounded seven or eight of those who came under my

hand. As for Cornelio, he made such good use of his heels that he

escaped me.

"In this imminent danger, surrounded by enemies who were now incensed to

vengeance, I was saved by an extraordinary chance; but better would it

have been to have lost my life on the spot than to be saved in order to

suffer hourly death. On a sudden the garden was invaded by a great

number of Turkish corsairs, who had landed in the neighbourhood without

being perceived by the sentinels in the castles on the coast, or by our

cruisers. As soon as my antagonists descried them they left me, and

escaped with all speed. Of all the persons in the garden the Turks

captured only three, besides Leonisa, who was still in her swoon. As for

me, I fell into their hands after receiving four ugly wounds, which,

however, I had revenged by laying four Turks dead upon the ground.

"The Turks having effected this onslaught with their usual expedition,

returned to their galleys, ill-satisfied with a success which had cost

them so dear. Having set sail they quickly arrived at Fabiana, where

mustering their hands to see who was missing, they found that they had

lost four Levantine soldiers whom they esteemed their best men. They

resolved to revenge the loss on me, and the commander of the galley

immediately ordered the yard-arm to be lowered in order to hang me.

Leonisa was present at all this. She had come to her senses, and seeing

herself in the power of the corsairs, she stood weeping and wringing her

delicate hands, without saying a word, but listening if she could

understand what was said by the Turks. One of the Christian slaves at

the oar told her in Italian that the captain had ordered that Christian

to be hanged, pointing to me, because he had killed in his own defence

four of the best soldiers belonging to the galley. On hearing this,

Leonisa (it was the first time she showed any pity for me) bade the

captive tell the Turks not to hang me, for they would lose a large

ransom, but return at once, to Trapani, where it would be paid them.

This, I say, was the first, as it will also be the last mark of

compassion bestowed on me by Leonisa, and all for my greater woe.

"The Turks believed what the captive told them: interest got the better

of their resentment, and they returned next morning with a flag of

peace. I passed a night of the greatest anguish, not so much from the

pain of my wounds, as from thinking of the danger in which my fair and

cruel enemy was placed among those barbarians. When we arrived at the

town one galley entered the port, the other remained in the offing. The

Christian inhabitants lined the whole shore, and the effeminate Cornelio

stood watching from a distance what was going on in the galley. My

steward immediately came to treat for my ransom, and I told him on no

account to bargain for it but for that of Leonisa, for which he should

offer all I was worth. I furthermore ordered him to return to shore, and

toll Leonisa's parents that they might leave it to him to treat for

their daughter's liberation, and give themselves no trouble about the

matter.

"The chief captain, who was a Greek renegade named Yusuf, demanded six

thousand crowns for Leonisa and four thousand for me, adding that he

would not give up the one without the other. He asked this large sum, as

I afterwards ascertained, because he was in love with Leonisa, and did

not wish to ransom her, but to give me and a thousand crowns to boot to

the other captain, with whom he was bound to share equally whatever

prizes they made, and to keep Leonisa for himself as valued at five

thousand crowns. It was for this reason that he appraised us both at ten

thousand.

"Leonisa's parents made no offer at all, relying on my promise, nor did

Cornelio so much as open his lips on the matter. After much bargaining

my steward agreed to pay five thousand crowns for Leonisa and three for

me, and Yusuf accepted this offer at the persuasion of the other captain

and of all his men. But as my agent had not so large an amount in ready

money, he asked for three days to get it in, being resolved to expend

all I possessed rather than fail to rescue us. Yusuf was glad of this,

thinking that something might possibly occur in the interval to prevent

the completion of the bargain, and he departed for the isle of Fabiana,

saying that in three days he would return for the money. But fortune,

never weary of persecuting me, ordained that a Turkish sentinel descried

from the highest point of the island, far out at sea, six vessels which

appeared to be either the Maltese squadron or one belonging to Sicily.

He ran down to give warning, and as quick as thought the Turks who were

on shore, some cooking their dinners, some washing their linen, embarked

again, heaved anchor, got out their oars, hoisted sail, and heading in

the direction of Barbary, in less than two hours lost sight of the

galleys. I leave you to conjecture, friend Mahmoud, what I suffered in

that voyage, so contrary to my expectation, and more when we arrived the

following day at the south-west of the isle of Pantanalea. There the

Turks landed, and the two captains began to divide all the prizes they

had made. All this was for me a lingering death.

"When Leonisa's turn and mine came, Yusuf gave Fatallah (the other

captain) myself and six other Christians, four of them fit for the oar,

and two very handsome Corsican boys, as an equivalent for Leonisa, whom

he himself retained; Fatallah being content with that arrangement. I was

present at all this, but knew not what they said, though I saw what they

did, nor should I have then understood the nature of the partition, had

not Fatallah come up to me and said in Italian, 'Christian, you now

belong to me; you have cost me two thousand crowns; if you desire your

liberty you must pay me four thousand, or else die here.' I asked him if

the Christian maiden was his also. He said she was not, but that Yusuf

had kept her with the intention to make her a Moor and marry her; and

this was true, for I was told the same thing by one of the Christian

rowers, who understood Turkish very well, and had overheard the

conversation that had passed between Yusuf and Fatallah. I told my

master to take measures for possessing himself of the maiden, and that I

would give him for her ransom alone ten thousand gold crowns. He replied

that it was impossible, but he would let Yusuf know the large sum I had

offered for the Christian girl, and perhaps he would be tempted to

change his intention and ransom her. He did so, and ordered all his crew

to go on board again immediately, for he intended to sail to Tripoli, to

which city he belonged. Yusuf also determined to make for Biserta, and

they all embarked with as much speed as they use when they discover

galleys to give them chase or merchant craft to plunder. They had reason

for this haste, for the weather seemed to be changing, and to threaten a

storm.

"Leonisa was ashore, but not where I could see her, until just as we

were embarking we met at the water side. Her new master and newer lover

led her by the hand, and as she set foot on the ladder that reached from

the shore to the galley, she turned her eyes upon me. Mine were fixed on

her, and such a pang of mingled tenderness and grief came over me that a

mist overspread my eyes, and I fell senseless on the ground. I was told

afterwards that Leonisa was affected in the same way, for she fell off

the ladder into the sea, into which Yusuf plunged after her and brought

her out in his arms. This was told me in my master's galley into which I

had been carried insensible. When I came to my senses, and found myself

there, and saw the other galley steering a different course and carrying

off the half of my soul or rather the whole of it, my heart sank within

me again; again I cursed my unhappy fate, and clamorously invoked!

death, till my master, annoyed by my loud lamentations, threatened me

with a great stick if I did not hold my tongue. I restrained my tears

and groans, believing that the force with which I compressed them would

make them burst a passage for my soul, which so longed to quit this

miserable body. But my misfortune did not end here. The storm which had

been foreseen suddenly burst upon us. The wind veered round to the south

and blew in our teeth with such violence that we were forced to quit our

course and run before it.

"It was the captain's intention to make for the island and take shelter

under its northern shore, but in this he was disappointed; for such was

the fury of the storm that although before it we had been making way

continually for two days and nights, yet in little more than fourteen

hours we saw ourselves again within six or seven miles of the island,

and driving helplessly against it, not where the shore was low, but just

where the rocks were highest and threatened us with inevitable death. We

saw near us the other galley, on board of which was Leonisa, and all its

Turk and captive rowers straining every nerve to keep themselves off the

rocks. Ours did the same, but with more success than the crew of our

consort, who, spent with toil, and vanquished in the desperate struggle

with the elements, let fall their oars, and suffered themselves to drift

ashore, where the galley struck with such violence that it was dashed to

pieces before our eyes.

"Night began to close in, and such were the shrieks of those who were

drowning, and the alarm of those on board our galley, that none of our

captain's orders were heard or executed. All the crew did, was to keep

fast hold of their oars, turn the vessel's head to the wind, and let go

two anchors, in hopes to delay for a little while the death that seemed

certain. Whilst all were in dread of dying, with me it was quite the

reverse; for in the fallacious hope of seeing in the other world her who

had so lately departed from this, every instant the galley delayed to

founder or drive ashore was to me an age of agony. I watched every

billow that dashed by us and over us, to see if they bore the body of

the unfortunate Leonisa. I will not detain you, Mahmoud, with a recital

of the tortures that distracted my soul in that long and bitter night;

it is enough to say that they were such that had death come, it would

have had little to do in bereaving me of life.

"Day broke with every appearance of worse weather than ever, and we

found that our vessel had shifted its course considerably, having

drifted away from the rocks and approached a point of the island.

Setting all of us to work, both Turks and Christians, with renewed hope

and strength, in six hours we doubled the point, and found ourselves in

calmer water, so that we could better use our oars; and the Turks saw a

prospect of going on shore to see if there were any remains of the

galley that had been wrecked the night before. But Heaven denied me the

consolation I hoped for in seeing in my arms the body of Leonisa. I

asked a renegade, who was about to land, to look for it and see if it

had been cast on the strand. But, as I have said, Heaven denied me this

consolation, for at that moment the wind rose with such fresh fury that

the shelter of the island was no longer of any avail to us.

"Seeing this, Fatallah would no longer strive against the fortune that

so persecuted him. He ordered some sail to be spread, turned the prow to

the sea and the poop to the wind, and himself taking the helm, let the

vessel run over the wide sea, secure of not being crossed in his way by

any impediment. The oars were all placed in their regular positions, the

whole crew was seated on the benches, and no one else was seen on foot

in the whole galley but the boatswain, who had lashed himself strongly

amidship for his greater security. The vessel flew so swiftly that in

three days and nights, passing in sight of Trapani, Melazo, and Palermo,

she entered the straits of Messina, to the dismay of all on board, and

of the spectators on shore. Not to be as long-winded as the storm that

buffeted us, I will only say that wearied, famishing, and exhausted by

such a long run, almost all round the island of Sicily, we arrived at

Tripoli, where my master, before he had divided the booty with his

partners, and accounted to the king for one-fifth part, according to

custom, was seized with such a pleurisy that in three days it carried

him off to hell.

"The king of Tripoli, and the alcayde of the Grand Turk, who, as you

know, is heir to all those who die without natural heirs, immediately

took possession of all Fatallah's effects. I became the property of the

then viceroy of Tripoli, who a fortnight afterwards received the patent

appointing him viceroy of Cyprus, and hither I am come with him without

any intention of redeeming myself. He has often told me to do so, since

I am a man of station, as Fatallah's soldiers informed him; I have never

complied, but have declared that he was deceived by those who had

exaggerated my means. If you would have me tell you my whole purpose,

Mahmoud, you must know that I desire not to turn in any direction in

which I may find any sort of consolation, but that the sad thoughts and

memories which have never left me since the death of Leonisa may become

so identified with my captive life that it may never afford me the least

pleasure. And if it is true that continual sorrow must at last wear out

itself, or him who suffers it, mine cannot fail to wear me out, for I am

resolved to give it such free scope that in a few days it shall put an

end to the wretched life I endure so unwillingly.

"This is, brother Mahmoud, my sad story; this is the cause of my sighs

and tears; judge now if it is enough to draw them forth from my inmost

vitals, and to engender them in the desolation of my afflicted heart,

Leonisa is dead, and with her all my hope; and though whilst she lived

it hung by the merest thread, yet, yet--"

Here the speaker's voice faltered, so that he could not utter another

word, or restrain the tears which coursed each other down his cheeks so

fast that they bedewed the ground. Mahmoud mingled his own with them;

and when the paroxysm had somewhat abated, he tried to console Ricardo

with the best suggestions he could offer; but the mourner cut them

short, saying, "What you have to do, friend, is to advise me how I shall

contrive to fall into disgrace with my master, and with all those I have

to do with, so that, being abhorred by him and by them, I may be so

maltreated and persecuted that I may find the death I so much long for."

"I have now," said Mahmoud, "experienced the truth of the common

saying, that what is deeply felt is well expressed, though it is true

that sometimes excess of feeling paralyses the tongue. Be that as it

may, friend Ricardo,--whether your woes inspire your language, or your

language exalts your woes,--you shall always find in me a true friend,

to aid or to counsel, though my youth, and the folly I committed in

assuming this garb, cry aloud that I am little to be relied on in this

capacity. I will try, however, to prove that such a conclusion is

unfounded; and though you do not desire either counsel or help, I will

not the more desist from doing what your case requires, just as people

give a sick man not what he asks for, but what is good for him. There is

no one who has more power and influence in this city than my master, the

Cadi; not even your own master, who comes to it as viceroy, will have so

much. This being the case, I may say that I am the most powerful person

here, since I can do what I please with my master. I mention this

because it may be that I shall so contrive with him that you shall

become his property, and being constantly with me, time will tell us

what we had best do, both for your consolation, if you will or can be

consoled, and to enable me to exchange the life I lead here for a better

one."

"I thank you, Mahmoud, for the friendship you offer me," replied

Ricardo, "though I well know that, do what you may, it will avail

nothing. But let us quit this subject, and go to the tents, for, as I

perceive, great numbers of people are coming forth from the city; no

doubt it is the old viceroy who is quitting it to give place to my

master."

"It is so," said Mahmoud. "Come then, Ricardo, and you will see the

ceremony of the reception."

"Come on," said Ricardo; "perhaps I shall have need of you, if the

superintendent of my master's slaves have missed me, for he is a

Corsican renegade of no very tender heart."

Here the conversation ended, and the two friends reached the tents, just

as the new pasha was coming out to receive his predecessor, Ali Pasha.

The latter came attended by all the janissaries who have formed the

garrison of Nicosia ever since the Turks have had possession of it, in

number about five hundred. They marched in two divisions, the one armed

with guns, the other with drawn scimetars. Arrived at the tent of

Hassan, the new Pasha, they all surrounded it. Ali made a low obeisance

to Hassan, who returned the salutation, but did not bow so low. Ali then

entered Hassan's tent, and the Turks placed the new Pasha on a powerful

steed, richly caparisoned, and led him round the tents, and up and down

the plain; vociferating in their own language, "Long live Sultan

Soliman, and Hassan Pasha, his representative!" which cry they

frequently repeated, and each time louder and louder. This part of the

ceremony being ended, they brought Hassan back to Ali's tent, where the

two pashas and the cadi remained alone together for an hour to consult,

as Mahmoud informed Ricardo, as to what was to be done upon some works

which Ali had begun. Afterwards the cadi appeared at the door of the

tent, and proclaimed in Turkish, Arabic, and Greek, that all who desired

to crave justice or make any other appeal against Ali Pasha, might now

enter freely, for there was Hassan Pasha, sent by the Grand Signor to be

viceroy of Cyprus, who would accord them all reason and justice.

In conformity with this permission the janissaries opened a passage to

the door of the tent, and every one entered who pleased. Mahmoud made

Ricardo go in along with him, for being Hassan's slave his entrance was

not opposed. Several Greek Christians and some Turks appeared as

appellants, but all upon such trifling matters, that the cadi despatched

most of them without the formality of written declarations, rejoinders,

and replications. It is, in fact, the custom of the Turks that all

causes, except those which relate to marriage, shall be immediately and

summarily decided, rather by the rules of common sense than of legal

precedent; and among these barbarians (if such they are in this respect)

the cadi is the sole judge in all cases, cuts short the pleadings, gives

sentence in a breath, and there is no appeal from his decision.

Presently a khawass (that is to say, a Turkish alguazil) entered and

said that a Jew stood without, at the door of the tent, with a most

beautiful Christian maiden for sale. The cadi gave orders to admit him.

The khawass withdrew and immediately returned, accompanied by a Jew of

venerable appearance, who led by the hand a young woman clothed in the

Moorish dress, which became her so well that the most richly arrayed

women of Fez or Morocco could not be compared with her, though in the

art of adorning themselves they surpass all the other women of Africa,

not excepting even those of Algiers, with all their profusion of pearls.

The face of the female slave was covered with a mask of crimson taffety.

On her naked ankles she wore two rings, apparently of pure gold; and two

others, set with large pearls, on her arms, which shone through the

sleeves of a transparent camisole. Her whole dress was rich, gay, and

graceful. Struck by her appearance, the first thing the cadi and the

pashas did, was to bid the Jew make the Christian uncover her face. She

did so, and disclosed a countenance which, like the sun bursting through

thick clouds which have long obscured it, dazzled the eyes and gladdened

the hearts of the beholders. But on none did that marvellous light

produce such an effect as on the woe-worn Ricardo, for he saw before him

no other than his cruel and beloved Leonisa, whom he had so often and

with such bitter tears bewailed as dead.

At the unexpected sight of such unparalleled loveliness, Ali felt his

heart transfixed; Hassan's was pierced with as deep a wound; nor did the

cadi's escape scatheless, but, even more deeply smitten than the two

pashas, he could not take his eyes off the Christian's face. All three

were seized at the same moment with an absolute determination to possess

her; and without stopping to inquire how, or where, or when, she had

come into the hands of the Jew, they bade him name her price. Four

thousand doblas, he replied. The words were no sooner out of the Jew's

mouth than Ali Pasha said he would give the price, and that the Jew had

only to go to his tent to fetch the money. Hassan Pasha, however, who

looked as if he had no mind to lose her, though she were to cost him his

life, interposed and said, "I myself will give the four thousand doblas

demanded by the Jew, though I would not interfere with Ali's bargain or

oppose his wishes, were I not compelled by motives the imperious force

and obligation of which he will himself acknowledge. This exquisitely

beautiful slave is not for us, but for the Grand Signor alone, and

therefore I say that I purchase her in his name. Let us see now who will

be so bold as to dispute the purchase with me."

"That will I," replied Ali, "for it is for that very purpose I buy her

of the Jew; and it suits me the better to make the present to his

Highness, as I have the opportunity of taking her to Constantinople in a

few days, and thus winning the favour of the Sultan; for being, as you

see, Hassan, a man without employment, I must seek means for obtaining

one; whereas, you are secure in that respect for three years, since

to-day you enter upon the government of this rich realm of Cyprus. On

these grounds, and as I was the first to offer the price demanded for

the slave, it stands to reason, Hassan, that you should yield her to

me."

"The satisfaction I shall feel in purchasing and sending her to the

Sultan," said Hassan, "is so much the greater, as I shall do it without

being prompted by any motives of interest whatever. And as for a

convenient means of sending her to Constantinople, she shall go thither

in a galley manned only by my own slaves."

Ali now started up in wrath, and, clutching his scimetar, cried out,

"Since we both intend the same thing, Hassan, namely, to present this

Christian to the Grand Signor, and since I was the first purchaser,

reason and justice require that you should leave her to me; if you will

not, this blade in my hand shall defend my right, and punish your

audacity."

The cadi, who had been closely watching this contest, and who was

himself no less inflamed with desire than either of the pashas,

bethought him how he might remain possessor of the prize, without giving

any cause to suspect his insidious designs. Rising therefore to his

feet, he stepped between the two angry pashas. "Be quiet, Hassan," he

said; "calm yourself, Ali; here am I who can and will arrange your

differences in such wise that you shall both have your intentions

fulfilled, the Sultan shall be gratified as you desire, and shall be

under obligations to you both alike for your loyal and acceptable

homage."

The two pashas submitted at once to the cadi, as they would have done

even had the terms he imposed appeared harder to them, such is the

respect which is paid to their elders by those of that accursed sect.

The cadi then continued his address to them. "Ali," said he, "you say

that you want this Christian to present her to the Grand Signor; and

Hassan says the same. You allege that, having been the first to offer

the price required, she ought to be yours; but Hassan denies this; and

though he does not know how to assign valid grounds for his claim, yet I

find that he has the same as yourself, namely, the intention, which

doubtless must have arisen within him at the same time as within

yourself, to purchase the slave for the self-same purpose; only you had

the advantage of him in being the first to declare yourself. This,

however, is no reason why he should be out and out defrauded of the

benefit of his good-will, and therefore I am of opinion that it will be

well to arrange matters between you in this wise: let the slave be

bought by you both; and since she is to belong to the Grand Signor, for

whom you buy her, it will be for him to dispose of her. Meanwhile, you

Hassan shall pay two thousand doblas, and you Ali another two thousand,

and the slave shall remain in my custody, so that I may send her in the

name of you both to Constantinople, and thus I too shall not be without

some reward for my presence and aid on this occasion. Accordingly, I

undertake to send her at my own cost in a style worthy of the great

sovereign to whom she is to be presented; and I will write to the Grand

Signor a true account of all that has occurred here, and of the

good-will you have shown in his service."

The two enamoured pashas could find no pretext for gainsaying this

decision; and though it thwarted their desires, they were constrained to

submit, each of them comforting himself with the hope, however doubtful,

that he would succeed at last. Hassan, who was to remain viceroy of

Cyprus, resolved to make such presents to the cadi as would induce him

to give up the slave. Ali formed other plans, and as he flattered

himself that he should carry them into successful operation, they both

professed themselves satisfied, and paid the Jew two thousand doblas

each on the spot. The Jew then said that he had sold the slave, but not

the clothes she wore, which were worth another two thousand doblas; and

this indeed was true, for her hair which she wore partly loose on her

shoulders, and partly braided on her forehead, was most gracefully

interwoven with strings of pearls; her bracelets and anklets too were

set with very large pearls, and her green satin robe was heavily

flounced and embroidered with gold. In short, all agreed that the Jew

had set a low price on the dress, and the cadi, to show himself no less

liberal than the two pashas, said that he would pay for it, that the

slave might appear before the Grand Signor as she then stood. The two

competitors agreed in approving of this, each of them believing that

slave, dress, and all would soon be his own.

It is impossible to describe Ricardo's feelings, when he saw the

treasure of his soul thus put up for sale, and found that he had

regained it only to lose it more cruelly. He knew not whether he was

asleep or awake, and could not believe his own eyes; for it seemed

incredible that they should have so unexpectedly before them her whom he

had supposed to have disappeared for ever. "Do you know her?" he

whispered in Mahmoud's ear.

"No! I do not," was the reply.

"Then I must tell you that it is Leonisa."

"What do you say, Ricardo?" exclaimed Mahmoud.

"I say it is Leonisa."

"Say no more; fortune is proving your friend, and all is turning out for

the best, for she is to remain in my master's custody."

"What think you? Shall I place myself where I may be seen by her?"

"By no means, lest you give her a sudden shock; nor must you let it be

known that you have seen her, for that might disconcert the plan I have

in view."

"I will do as you advise," said Ricardo, turning away his eyes, and

carefully avoiding those of Leonisa, which were meanwhile bent upon the

ground. Presently the cadi went up to her, and taking her by the hand,

delivered her to Mahmoud, ordering him to take her into the city and

give her up to his lady, Halema, with directions to keep her as a slave

of the Grand Signor. Mahmoud obeyed and left Ricardo alone, following

with his eyes the star of his soul, until it disappeared behind the

walls of Nicosia. He then went up to the Jew, and asked him where he had

bought that Christian slave, or how he had become possessed of her. The

Jew replied that he had bought her in the island of Pantanalea, of some

Turks who had been shipwrecked there. Ricardo would have pursued his

inquiries, but the Jew was called away to give the pashas the very same

information which Ricardo so much longed to obtain.

During the long walk from the tents to the city Mahmoud conversed with

Leonisa in Italian, and asked her whence she came. She replied that she

belonged to the illustrious city of Trapani, and that her parents were

noble and wealthy, though as for herself she was utterly unfortunate.

Mahmoud then asked her if she knew a gentleman of birth and fortune in

that city, named Ricardo. On hearing that name a sigh escaped her that

seemed to come from the bottom of her heart. "I know him," she replied,

"to my sorrow."

"Why to your sorrow?"

"Because it was to his sorrow that he knew me, and for my misfortune."

"Perhaps," said Mahmoud, "you may also know in the same city another

gentleman of very amiable disposition, the son of very wealthy parents,

and himself a person of great spirit, liberality, and discretion. His

name is Cornelio."

"Him too I know, and of him still more than Ricardo I may say that I

know him to my sorrow. But who are you, sir, who know these gentlemen

and inquire of me respecting them? Doubtless, Heaven, in compassion for

the trouble and mischances I have undergone, has sent me to a place

where, if they do not cease, at least I may find a person to console me

for them."

"I am a native of Palermo," said Mahmoud, "brought by various chances to

wear this garb, and to be in appearance so different from what I am in

my secret soul. I know the gentlemen in question, because not many days

ago they were with me. Cornelio was captured by some Moors of Tripoli,

and sold by them to a Turk who brought him to this island, whither he

came to trade, for he is a merchant of Rhodes, and so highly satisfied

was he with Cornelio, and such was the confidence he reposed in his

truth and integrity, that he entrusted him with his whole property."

"He will be sure to take care of it," said Leonisa, "for he takes very

good care of his own. But tell me, señor, how or with whom did Ricardo

come to this island?"

"He came," said Mahmoud, "with a corsair who had captured him in a

garden on the coast near Trapani, and along with him a damsel, whose

name I never thought of asking, though the corsair often spoke to me in

praise of her beauty. Ricardo remained hero some days with his master

until the latter went to visit the tomb of Mahomet, which is in the city

of Almedina,[77] and then Ricardo fell into such a sickness that his

master left him with me, as being my countryman, that I might take care

of him until the return of the pilgrim to Cyprus, should that happen; or

else I was to send Ricardo to Constantinople, when his master should

advise me of his arrival there. But heaven ordered it otherwise; for the

unfortunate Ricardo died in a few days, always invoking to the last the

name of one Leonisa, whom he had told me he loved more than his life and

soul. She had been drowned, he said, in the wreck of a galley on the

coast of the island of Pantanalea; and he never ceased to deplore her

death till his grief destroyed him, for that in fact was the only malady

I discovered in him."

[77] A mistake. The prophet's tomb is in Mecca. Medina was his

birthplace.

"Tell me, señor," said Leonisa, "in the conversations you had with the

other young man, did he sometimes name this Leonisa? Did he relate the

manner in which he and she and Ricardo were captured?"

"He did name her," replied Mahmoud, "and asked me if there had been

brought to this island a Christian of that name, of such and such

appearance; for if so he should like to ransom her, provided her owner

had been undeceived as to his notion that she was richer than she really

was, or should it chance that having enjoyed her, he held her in less

esteem. If her price did not exceed three or four hundred crowns, he

would pay it gladly, because he had once had some regard for her."

"It must have been very little," said Leonisa, "since it was worth no

more than four hundred crowns. Ricardo was more generous. Heaven forgive

her who was the cause of his death, and that was myself; for I am the

unhappy maiden whom he wept as dead, and God knows how I should rejoice

were he alive, that I might repay him by letting him see how I felt for

his misfortunes. Yes, señor, I am the little loved of Cornello, the

truly wept of Ricardo, whom various chances have brought to the

miserable state in which I now am; but through all my perils, by the

favour of Heaven, I have preserved my honour unsullied, and that

consoles me in my misery. I know not at this moment where I am, nor who

is my master, nor what my adverse fates have determined is to become of

me. I entreat you, therefore, señor, by the Christian blood that flows

in your veins, that you will advise me in my difficulties; for though

they have already taught me something by experience, yet they are so

great and never-ending, that I know not what to do."

Mahmoud assured her he would do what he could to help her to the best of

his understanding and his power. He acquainted her with the nature of

the dispute there had been between the pashas concerning her, and how

she was now in the keeping of his master the cadi, who was to send her

to Constantinople to the Grand Turk Selim; but that he trusted that the

true God, in whom he, though a bad Christian, believed, would dispose of

her otherwise. He advised her to conciliate Halima, the wife of his

master the cadi, with whom she was to remain until she was sent to

Constantinople, and of whose character he gave her some details. Having

given her this and other useful counsel, he arrived at the cadi's house,

and delivered her over to Halima along with his master's message.

The Moorish woman received her well, seeing her so beautiful and so

handsomely dressed, and Mahmoud returned to the tents, where he

recounted to Ricardo, point by point, all that had passed between

himself and Leonisa; and the tears came into his eyes when he spoke of

the feeling displayed by Leonisa, when he told her that Ricardo was

dead. He stated how he had invented the story of Cornelio's captivity,

in order to see what impression it made on her; and in what disparaging

terms he had spoken of him. All this was balm to Ricardo's afflicted

heart.

"I remember, friend Mahmoud," he said, "an anecdote related to me by my

father; you know how ingenious he was, and you have heard how highly he

was honoured by the emperor, Charles V., whom he always served in

honourable posts in peace and war. He told me that when the emperor was

besieging Tunis, a Moorish woman was brought to him one day in his tent,

as a marvel of beauty, and that some rays of the sun, entering the tent,

fell upon her hair, which vied with them in its golden lustre; a rare

thing among the Moorish women, whoso hair is almost universally black.

Among many other Spanish gentlemen present on that occasion, there were

two of distinguished talent as poets, the one an Andalusian, the other a

Catalan. Struck with admiration at the sight before him, the Andalusian

began to extemporise some verses, but stopped short in the middle of the

last line, unable to finish them for want of a rhyme; whereupon the

Catalan, who saw his embarrassment, caught the line as it were out of

his mouth, finished it, continued the thought, and completed the poem.

This incident came into my mind when I saw the exquisitely beautiful

Leonisa enter the pasha's tent obscuring not only the rays of the sun,

but the whole firmament with all its stars."

"Gently, gently, friend Ricardo," said Mahmoud; "I am afraid if you

praise your mistress at that rate you will seem to be a heathen rather

than a Christian."

"Well, tell me then," said Ricardo, "what you think of doing in our

business. Whilst you were conducting Leonisa to Halima, a Venetian

renegade who was in the pasha's tent, and who understands Turkish very

well, explained to me all that had passed between them. Above all

things, then, we must try to find some means of preventing Leonisa's

being sent to the Grand Signor."

"The first thing to be done is to have you transferred to my master,"

said Mahmoud, "and then we will consider what next."

The keeper of Hassan's Christian slaves now came up and took Ricardo

away with him. The cadi returned to the city with Hassan, who in a few

days made out the report on Ali's administration, and gave it to him

under seal that he might depart to Constantinople. Ali went away at

once, laying strict injunctions on the cadi to send the captive without

delay to the sultan, along with such a letter as would be serviceable to

himself. The cadi promised all this with a treacherous heart, for it was

inflamed for the fair Christian. Ali went away full of false hopes,

leaving Hassan equally deluded by them. Mahmoud contrived that Ricardo

should pass into the possession of his master; but day after day stole

on, and Ricardo was so racked with longing to see Leonisa, that he could

have no rest. He changed his name to Mario, that his own might not reach

her ears before he saw her, which, indeed, was a very difficult thing,

because the Moors are exceedingly jealous, and conceal the faces of

their women from the eyes of all men; it is true they are not so

scrupulous with regard to Christian slaves, perhaps, because being

slaves they do not regard them as men.

Now it chanced that one day the lady Halima saw her slave Mario, and

gazed so much upon him that his image regained printed on her heart. Not

very well satisfied with the languid embraces of her old husband, she

readily gave admission to a reprehensible desire, and as readily

communicated it to Leonisa, whom she liked much for her agreeable

temper, and treated with great respect as a slave of the Grand Signor.

She told her how the cadi had brought home a Christian captive of such

graceful manners and appearance, that she had never set eyes on a more

engaging man in all her life; she understood that he was a chilidi (that

is, a gentleman) of the same country as her renegade Mahmoud, and she

knew not how to make known to him her inclination, so that the Christian

might not despise her for her voluntary declaration. Leonisa asked what

was the captive's name, and being told that it was Mario, she replied,

"If he was a gentleman, and of the place they say, I should know him;

but there is no one of that name in Trapani. But let me see him, and

speak with him, lady, and I will tell you who he is, and what may be

expected of him."

"It shall be so," said Halima. "On Friday, when the cadi is at prayers

in the mosque, I will make Mario come in here where you may speak to him

alone, and if you can give him a hint of my desires you will do so in

the best way you can."

Not two hours after this conversation the cadi sent for Mahmoud and

Mario, and with no less earnestness than Halima had unbosomed herself to

Leonisa, the amorous graybeard opened his own to his two slaves, asking

their advice as to what he should do to enjoy the Christian and cheat

the Grand Signor, to whom she belonged, for he would sooner die a

thousand deaths, than give her up to him. So earnestly did the reverend

Turk declare his passion that he inspired his two slaves with no less

earnestness, though their purposes were quite the reverse of his. It was

settled between them that Mario, as a countryman of the fair

Christian's, should take it in hand to solicit her on the cadi's part;

and that if that failed, the latter should use force, since she was in

his power, and afterwards account for not sending her to Constantinople

by pretending that she was dead. The cadi was highly delighted with the

advice of his two slaves, and with all imaginable alacrity he gave

Mahmoud his freedom on the spot, and promised to bequeath him half his

property when he died. To Mario likewise he promised, in case of success

his liberty and money enough to enable him to return home a wealthy man.

If he was liberal in promises, his slaves were prodigal; they would

bring down the moon to him from Heaven, much more Leonisa, if only he

gave them an opportunity of speaking with her. "Mario shall have one

whenever he pleases," said the cadi, "for I will make Halima go for some

days to the house of her parents, who are Greek Christians, and when she

is away I will order the porter to admit Mario into the house as often

as he pleases, and I will tell Leonisa that she may converse with her

countryman whenever she has a mind." Thus did the wind begin to shift in

Ricardo's favour, his master and mistress working for him without

knowing it; and the first who began was Halima, as was to be expected of

her, for it is the nature of women ever to be prompt and bold where

their pleasures are concerned.

That same day the cadi told Halima that she might pay a visit to her

parents, and stay with them some time if she liked; but elated as she

was with the false hopes given her by Leonisa, she was so far from

wishing to visit her parents, that she would not have cared to go to the

imaginary paradise of Mahomet. She replied then that she had no such

wish at that moment; when she had she would mention it, and then she

would take the Christian maiden with her. "That you must not," replied

the cadi, "for it is not right that the Grand Signor's slave should be

seen by any one, much less should she converse with Christians; for you

know that when she comes into the Sultan's possession she will be shut

up in the seraglio, and must become a Turk whether she will or not."

"As she will be in my company," said Halima, "there will be no harm in

her being in the house of my parents, or conversing with them. I do so

myself, and I am not less a good Turk for all that. Besides, I do not

intend to remain with them more than four or five days at most, for my

love for you will not allow me to be so long without seeing you." Here

the conversation dropped, the cadi not venturing to make any further

objection, for fear of rousing her suspicions.

Friday being come, he went to the mosque, from which he was sure not to

return for about four hours. He was no sooner gone than Halima sent for

Mario; but a Corsican slave who acted as porter, would not have admitted

him into the court-yard if Halima had not called out to let him pass,

whereupon he came in confused and trembling as if he were going to

encounter a host of enemies. Leonisa was seated at the foot of a great

marble staircase, in the dress in which she had appeared before the

pashas. Her right arm resting on her knee supported her head, and her

back was towards the door by which Mario entered, so that though he

advanced to where she sat, she did not see him.

Ricardo cast his eyes all round the place when he entered; all was

silence and solitude till he turned his gaze to where Leonisa sat.

Instantly he was seized with a thousand conflicting emotions. He was

within twenty paces of the object of his soul's desire; but he was a

captive, and the glory of his life was in the power of another. Thus

agitated with fear and exultation, joy and sadness, he advanced towards

her slowly, until Leonisa suddenly turned round and her eyes met his

earnest gaze. He stopped, unable to move another step. Leonisa, who

believed him to be dead, was struck with awe and consternation at seeing

him so unexpectedly before her. With her eyes still fixed upon him and

without turning her back, she retreated up four or five stairs, took a

little cross from her breast, kissed it again and again, and crossed

herself repeatedly, as though a being from the other world stood before

her. Ricardo presently recovered himself, and perceiving from Leonisa's

gestures what was the cause of her terror, he said, "It grieves me,

beautiful Leonisa, that the news which Mahmoud gave you of my death was

not true, so that I might be free from the fear I now feel lest the

rigour you have also shown towards me still subsists entire. Set your

mind at ease, lady, and come down; and if you will do what you have

never yet done--approach me--you will see that I am not a phantom. I am

Ricardo, Leonisa,--Ricardo the happy, if you will bid him be so."

Here Leonisa put her finger to her lips, giving Ricardo to understand

that he should be silent or speak more low. Gathering a little courage,

he drew near enough to hear her whisper thus: "Speak softly, Mario (for

so I hear you are now called): talk of nothing but what I talk of, and

bear in mind that if we are overheard it will be the cause of our never

meeting again. I believe that Halima, our mistress, is listening to us:

she has told me that she adores you, and has sent me here as her

intercessor. If you will respond to her desires, you will consult the

interest of your body more than of your soul; and if you will not, you

must feign to do so, were it only because I request it, and for sake of

what is due to the declared desires of a woman."

"Never did I think, never could I imagine, beauteous Leonisa," replied

Ricardo, "that you could ever ask anything of me with which I should

find it impossible to comply; but this present request of yours has

undeceived me. Is the inclination so slight a thing that it can be moved

this way or that at pleasure? Or would it become a man of truth and

honour to feign in matters of such weight? If you think that such things

can or ought to be done, be it as you will, since it is for you to

command and for me to obey; and that it may not be said I failed to do

so with regard to the first order you laid upon me, I will impose

silence on the voice of my honour, and will pretend to return Halima's

passion, as you desire, if I may thereby secure the blessing of seeing

you; and you have only to signify as much to her in such terms as you

shall think proper. In return for this sacrifice, to me the greatest

possible, I entreat you to tell me briefly how you escaped from the

hands of the corsairs, and fell into those of the Jew who sold you."

"The recital of my misfortunes," Leonisa answered, "demands more time

than we have now at our disposal; nevertheless, I will tell you some

particulars. The day after we parted company, Yusuf's galley was driven

back by a contrary wind to the island of Pantanalea, where we also saw

your galley, but ours, in spite of all efforts, was driven upon the

rocks. My master, seeing death so near, quickly emptied two water-casks,

closed them tightly, lashed them together with ropes, and placed me

between them. Then stripping off his clothes he took another cask in his

arms, and passing round his body a rope attached to the casks on which I

was placed, he boldly plunged into the sea. I had not the courage to

follow his example, but another Turk pushed me in. I fell senseless into

the water, and did not recover until I found myself on land, in the arms

of two Turks, who held me with my mouth downwards, discharging a great

quantity of water which I had swallowed. I opened my eyes, and looking

wildly round me, the first thing I saw was Yusuf lying beside me with

his skull shattered, having, as I afterwards learned, been dashed head

foremost against the rocks.

"The Turks told me that they had hawled me ashore by the rope, more dead

than alive. Only eight persons escaped out of the unfortunate galley. We

remained eight days on the island, during which the Turks treated me

with as much respect as if I were their sister. We lay hid in a cave,

the Turks being afraid of being captured by some of the Christian

garrison of a fort in the island, and we supported ourselves with

biscuits from the foundered galley which the waves cast ashore, and

which the men collected by night. It happened for my misfortune that the

commandant of the fort had died a few days before, and that there were

in it only twenty soldiers; this fact we learned from a boy whom the

Turks captured as he was amusing himself gathering shells on the shore.

At the end of eight days a Moorish vessel, of the kind which the Turks

call _caramuzal_, hove in sight; the Turks quitted their hiding-place,

and made signals which were recognised by the crew of the caramuzal.

They landed, and hearing from their countrymen an account of their

disasters, they took us all on board, where there was a very rich Jew,

to whom the whole cargo, or the greater part of it, belonged, consisting

of carpets, stuffs, and other wares, which are commonly exported by the

Jews from Barbary to the Levant. The vessel carried us to Tripoli, and

during the voyage I was sold to the Jew, who gave two thousand

doubloons, an excessive price; but the Jew was made liberal by the love

he conceived for me.

"After leaving the Turks in Tripoli, the vessel continued its voyage,

and the Jew began to importune me with his solicitations, which I

treated with the scorn they deserved. Despairing, therefore, of success,

he resolved to get rid of me upon the first opportunity; and knowing

that the two pashas, Ali and Hassan, were in this island, where he could

sell his goods as well as in Scio, whither he had been bound, he landed

here in hopes of disposing of me to one of the two pashas, with which

view he had me dressed as you now see me. I find that I have been

purchased by the cadi, for the purpose of being presented to the Grand

Turk, which causes me no little dread. Here I heard of your pretended

death, which, if you will believe me, grieved me to the soul; yet I

envied rather than pitied you, not from ill will towards you, for, if

insensible to love, I am yet neither unfeeling nor ungrateful, but

because I believed that your sorrows were all at an end."

"You would be right, lady," said Ricardo, "were it not that death would

have robbed me of the bliss of seeing you again. The felicity of this

moment is more to me than any blessing that life or death could bring

me, that of eternity alone excepted. My master, the cadi, into whose

hands I have fallen by as strange a series of adventures as your own, is

just in the same disposition towards you as Halima is towards me, and

has deputed me to be the interpreter of his feelings. I accepted the

office, not with the intention of serving his wishes, but my own in

obtaining opportunities to speak with you. Only see, Leonisa, to what a

pass our misfortunes have brought us; you to ask from me what you know

to be impossible; and me to propose to you what I would give my life not

to obtain, dear as that life is to me now, since I have the happiness to

behold you."

"I know not what to say to you, Ricardo," replied Leonisa, "nor what

issue we can find from the labyrinth in which we are involved. I can

only say that we must practise, what would not be expected from us,

dissimulation and deceit. I will repeat to Halima some phrases on your

part which will rather encourage than make her despair; and you may tell

the cadi whatever you think may serve, with safety to my honour, to keep

him in his delusion. And since I place my honour in your hands, you may

be assured that I have preserved it intact, in spite of all the perils

and trials I have undergone. Opportunity to converse together will be

easily afforded us, and to me this will be most pleasing, provided you

never address me on the subject of your suit; from the moment you do so,

I shall cease to see you; for I would not have you suppose that my

spirit is so weak as to be swayed by captivity. With the favour of

heaven, I hope to prove like gold which becomes the purer the more it is

passed through the furnace. Be content with the assurance I have given

you, that I shall no longer look upon you with repugnance, as I used to

do; for I must tell you, Ricardo, that I always found you somewhat more

arrogant and presumptuous than became you. I confess, also, that I was

deceived, and that my eyes being now opened, if the experiment were to

be made over again, perhaps I should be more humane to you, within the

bounds of honour. Go now, and God be with you; for I am afraid lest

Halima may have been listening to us, and she understands something of

our language."

"I fully acknowledge the propriety of all you have said, lady," replied

Ricardo. "I am infinitely obliged for the explanation you have given me,

and perhaps time will show you how profoundly respectful is the

adoration I profess for you. Rely upon me that I will deal in the best

manner with the cadi, and do you do the same with Halima. Believe me,

lady, since I have seen you, there has sprung up in my heart an assured

hope that we shall soon achieve our freedom; and so I commend you to

God's keeping, deferring to another time to tell you the events by which

fortune brought me to this place, after we were parted."

They now separated, Leonisa well pleased with Ricardo's modest

behaviour, and he overjoyed at having heard from her lips words unmixed

with harshness. Halima, meanwhile, had shut herself up in her room, and

was praying to Mahomet for Leonisa's success in the commission she had

given her. The cadi was in the mosque, burning, like his wife, with

desire, and anxiously awaiting the answer to be brought him by the slave

he had sent to speak to Leonisa, and whom Mahmoud was to admit to her

presence for that purpose, even though Halima was at home. Leonisa

inflamed Halima's impure desires, giving her very good hopes that Mario

would do all she wished, but telling her that two months must elapse

before he could consent to what he longed for even more than herself;

and that he asked that delay that he might complete a course of devotion

for the recovery of his freedom. Halima was satisfied with this excuse,

but begged Leonisa to tell her dear Mario to spare himself the trouble

and her the delay he proposed, for she would give him, at once, whatever

the cadi required for his ransom.

Before Ricardo went with his answer to his master, he consulted Mahmoud

as to what it should be. They agreed between them that it should be as

discouraging as possible, and that he should advise the cadi to take

the girl as soon as possible to Constantinople, and accomplish his

wishes on the way by fair means or by force. Moreover, that in order to

prevent the unpleasant consequences that might ensue from supplanting

the sultan, it would be well to purchase another slave, then pretend, or

contrive on the voyage, that Leonisa should fall sick, and throw the

newly-purchased Christian woman into the sea by night, with all possible

secrecy, giving out that the person who had died was Leonisa, the

sultan's slave. All this might be done in such a manner that the truth

should never be known, and the cadi would remain blameless in the

sultan's eyes, and have the full enjoyment of his desires. The wretched

old cadi, who was so blinded by his passion that he would have listened

to any absurdity they proposed, eagerly fell in with this scheme as one

full of promise; and so indeed it was, but not as he imagined; for the

intention of his two advisers was to make off with the boat, and pitch

the old fool into the sea.

But a difficulty occurred to the cadi, one of the greatest in his eyes

that could possibly be. It occurred to him that his wife would not let

him go to Constantinople without her; but presently he got over this

obstacle by saying, that instead of buying a Christian woman to put to

death in Leonisa's name, he would make Halima serve his turn, for he

longed with all his heart to be rid of her. Mahmoud and Ricardo agreed

to this expedient as readily as he proposed it, and this being finally

settled, the cadi that same day imparted to his wife his design of

setting out at once for Constantinople, to present the Christian captive

to the Sultan, who, he expected would, in his munificence, make him

grand cadi of Cairo or Constantinople. Halima, with great alacrity,

expressed her approval of his intention, believing that Mario would be

left at home; but when the cadi told her that he would take both him and

Mahmoud along with him, she changed her mind, and began to dissuade him

from what she had before advised; and finally, she told him that unless

she went with him she would not allow him to go at all. The cadi had

great satisfaction in complying with her desire, for he thought he would

soon get rid of a burden that hung like a millstone round his neck.

All this while Hassan Pasha was indefatigable in pressing the cadi to

give up the slave girl to him, in return for which he offered him

mountains of gold, and had already made him a present of Ricardo, whose

ransom he valued at two thousand crowns. Moreover, to facilitate the

transfer, he suggested to the cadi the same expedient which the latter

had himself devised, namely, that when the Grand Turk sent for Leonisa

he should pretend she was dead. But all the pasha's gifts, promises, and

entreaties, had no other effect on the cadi than to increase his

eagerness to hasten his departure. Tormented therefore by his own

desires, by Hassan's importunities, and by those of Halima (for she,

too, was amusing herself with vain hopes) he made such despatch that in

twenty days he had equipped a brigantine of fifteen benches, which he

manned with able Turkish mariners and some Greek Christians. He put all

his wealth on board it; Halima, too, left nothing of value behind her,

and asked her husband to let her take her parents with her that they

might see Constantinople. Halima entertained the same designs as Mahmoud

and Ricardo; she intended, with their help, to seize the brigantine, but

would not make this known to them until she found herself actually

embarked. Afterwards she proposed to land among Christians, return to

her old creed, and marry Ricardo; for she had reason to suppose that

bringing so much wealth with her, he would not fail to take her to wife

on her again becoming a Christian.

Ricardo had another interview with Leonisa, and made known to her the

whole scheme they had projected; and she in return apprised him of the

designs of Halima, who kept no secret from Leonisa. After mutual

injunctions of secrecy, they bade each other adieu until the day of

embarkation. When it arrived, Hassan escorted the party to the shore

with all his soldiers, and did not leave them until they had set sail.

Even then he never took his eyes off the brigantine until it was out of

sight. It almost seemed as if the sighs heaved by the enamoured

mussulman swelled the gale, and impelled with more force the sails that

were wafting away his soul. But as love had allowed him no rest, but

plenty of time to consider what he should do to escape being killed by

the vehemence of his unsatisfied desire, he immediately put in operation

a plan he had long matured. He put fifty soldiers, all trusty men, bound

to him by many favours received and expected, on board a vessel of

seventeen benches, which he had secretly fitted out in another port;

and he ordered them to pursue and capture the brigantine with all its

wealth, and put every soul on board to the sword, with the exception of

Leonisa, whom he desired to have as his own sole share of the immense

booty. He also ordered them to sink the brigantine, so that no trace of

her fate might remain.

Animated with the hope of plunder the soldiers proceeded with the utmost

alacrity to execute the pasha's orders, which seemed the more easy as

the crew of the brigantine were unarmed, not anticipating any such

encounter. It had been now two days under sail, which seemed two

centuries to the cadi, who would fain, on the very first of them, have

carried his design into effect. But his two slaves represented to him

the absolute necessity that Leonisa should first fall sick in order to

give colour to the report of her death, and that the feigned malady

ought to last some days. The cadi was much more disposed to say that she

died suddenly, finish the whole job at once, despatch his wife, and

allay the raging fire that was consuming his vitals; but he was obliged

to submit to the advice of his two counsellors.

Meanwhile, Halima had declared her design to Mahmoud and Ricardo, who

had signified their readiness to accomplish it when passing the Crosses

of Alexandria, or entering the castles of Anatolia; but so intolerably

did the cadi importune them, that they made up their minds to do so upon

the first opportunity that offered. After they had been six days at sea

the cadi thought that Leonisa's feigned malady had lasted quite long

enough, and was very urgent with them that they should finish with

Halima on the following day, and to quiet him they promised that they

would do so. But when that day came, which, as they expected, was to

witness the accomplishment of their own secret plans, or to be the last

of their lives, they suddenly discovered a vessel giving chase to them,

with all speed of sails and oars. They were afraid it was a Christian

corsair, from which neither party had any good to expect; for if it were

one, the mussulmans would be made captive, and the Christians, though

left at liberty, would be plundered of everything. Mahmoud and Ricardo,

however, took comfort in the prospect of freedom for Leonisa and

themselves; nevertheless, they were not without fear of the insolence of

the corsairs, for people who abandon themselves to such practices,

whatever be their religion or law, are invariably cruel and brutal. The

cadi's crew made preparation to defend themselves; but without quitting

their oars, and still doing all in their power to escape; but the vessel

in chase gained upon them so fast that in less than two hours it was

within cannon-shot. Seeing her so close, they lowered their sails, stood

to their arms, and awaited the assault, though the cadi told them they

had nothing to fear, for the stranger was under Turkish colours and

would do them no harm. He then gave orders to hoist the white flag of

peace.

Just then Mahmoud chanced to turn his head, and espied another galley of

some twenty benches apparently, bearing down upon them from the west. He

told the cadi, and some Christians at the oar said that this was a

vessel of their own people. The confusion and alarm was now doubled, and

all awaited the issue in anxious suspense, not knowing whether to hope

or fear it. I fancy the cadi, just then, would have gladly foregone all

his amorous hopes to be safe again in Nicosia, so great was his

perplexity. It did not last long however; for the first galley, without

paying the least regard to the flag of peace, or to what was due to a

community in religion, bore down upon his brigantine with such fury as

nearly to send it to the bottom. The cadi then perceived that the

assailants were soldiers of Nicosia, and guessing what was the real

state of the case, he gave himself up for lost; and had it not been for

the greed of the soldiers, who fell to plundering in the first instance,

not a soul would have been left alive. Suddenly, however, while they

were busy with all their might in pillaging, a voice cried out in

Turkish, "To arms! to arms! Here's a Christian galley bearing down upon

us!" And this indeed was true, for the galley which Mahmoud had descried

to the westward was bearing furiously down upon Hassan's under Christian

colours; but before it came to close quarters it hailed the latter.

"What galley is that?"

"Hassan Pasha's, viceroy of Cyprus."

"How comes it, then, that you, being mussulmans are plundering this

brigantine, on board of which, as we know, is the cadi of Nicosia?"

The reply to this was that they only knew that the pasha had ordered

them to take it, and that they, as his soldiers, had done his bidding.

The commander of the galley under Christian colours having now

ascertained what he wanted to know, desisted from attacking Hassan's and

fell upon the cadi's brigantine, killed ten of its Turkish crew at the

first volley, and immediately boarded it with great impetuosity. Then

the cadi discovered that his assailant was no Christian, but Ali Pasha,

Leonisa's lover, who had been laying wait to carry her off, and had

disguised himself and his soldiers as Christians, the better to conceal

his purpose.

The cadi, finding himself thus assailed on all sides, began loudly to

exert his lungs. "What means this, Ali Pasha, thou traitor?" he cried.

"How comes it that, being a mussulman, thou attackest me in the garb of

a Christian? And you, perfidious soldiers of Hassan, what demon has

moved you to commit so great an outrage? How dare you, to please the

lascivious appetite of him who sent you, set yourselves against your

sovereign?" At these words, the soldiers on both sides lowered their

arms, looked upon and recognised each other, for they had all served

under one captain and one flag. Confounded by the cadi's words, and by

their conscious criminality, they sheathed their blades, and seemed

quite discomfited. Ali alone shut his eyes and his ears to everything,

and rushing upon the cadi, dealt him such a stroke on the head with his

scimetar, that, but for the hundred ells of stuff that formed his

turban, he would certainly have cleft it in two. As it was, he knocked

the cadi down among the rower's benches, where he lay, exclaiming amid

his groans, "O cruel renegade! Enemy of the Prophet! Can it be that

there is no true mussulman left to avenge me? Accursed one! to lay

violent hands on thy cadi, on a minister of Mahomet!"

The cadi's denunciations made a strong impression on the minds of

Hassan's soldiers, who, fearing besides that Ali's men would despoil

them of the booty they already looked upon as their own, determined to

put all to the hazard of battle. Suddenly they fell upon Ali's men with

such vehemence that, although the latter were the stronger party, they

soon thinned their numbers considerably; the survivors, however, quickly

rallied, and so well avenged their slaughtered comrades, that barely

four of Hassan's men remained alive, and those too badly wounded.

Ricardo and Mahmoud, who had been watching the fight, putting their

heads out every now and then at the cabin hatchway, seeing now that most

of the Turks were dead, and the survivors all wounded, and that they

might very easily be mastered, called upon Halima's father and two of

his nephews to aid them in seizing the vessel. Then arming themselves

with the dead men's scimetars, they rushed amidships, shouting "Liberty!

Liberty!" and with the help of the stout Christian rowers, they soon

despatched all the Turks. Then they boarded Ali Pasha's galley. He had

been one of the first slain in the last conflict, a Turk having cut him

down in revenge for the cadi, and the galley being defenceless, they

took possession of it with all its stores.

By Ricardo's advice, all the valuables on board the brigantine and

Hassan's galley were transhipped to Ali's, that being the largest of the

three vessels, with plenty of stowage room, and a good sailer. The

rowers, too, were Christians, and being highly delighted with the

acquisition of their freedom, and with the gifts which Ricardo liberally

divided amongst them, they offered to carry him to Trapani, or to the

end of the world, if he desired it. After this, Mahmoud and Ricardo,

exulting in their success, went to Halima, and told her that if she

desired to return to Cyprus they would give her her own brigantine, with

its full complement of men, and half the wealth she had put on board it;

but as her affection for Ricardo was unabated, she replied that she

would rather go with them to Christian lands, whereat her parents were

exceedingly rejoiced.

The cadi having by this time got upon his legs again, he, too, had his

choice given him either to go into Christendom or return to Nicosia in

his own vessel. He replied that, "as fortune had reduced him to his

present situation, he thanked them for the boon of his liberty; and that

he desired to go to Constantinople to complain to the Grand Signor of

the outrage he had received at the hands of Ali and Hassan." But when he

heard that Halima was leaving him, and intended to go back to

Christianity, he was almost beside himself. Finally, they put him on

board his own vessel, supplying him abundantly with all accessories for

his voyage, and even giving him back some of his own sequins; and he

took leave of them all with the intention of returning to Nicosia; but

first he entreated that Leonisa would embrace him, declaring that if

she would graciously grant him that favour, it would wipe out the

recollection of all his misfortunes. All joined in entreating Leonisa to

grant him what he so earnestly desired, since she might do so without

prejudice to her honour. She complied, and the cadi besought her to lay

her hands on his head, that he might have hopes of his wound being

healed.

These adieux concluded, and having scuttled Hassan's galley, they sailed

away with a favouring breeze and soon lost sight of the brigantine, on

the deck of which stood the unlucky cadi, watching with swimming eyes

how the wind was wafting away his property, his delight, his wife, and

his whole soul. With very different feelings did Ricardo and Mahmoud

pursue their way. They passed in sight of Alexandria, and without

shortening sail, or needing to have recourse to their oars, they touched

at Corfu, where they took in water; and then without more delay they

left behind them the ill-famed Acroceraunian rocks, and descried afar

off Paquino, a promontory of the most fertile Trinacria, at sight of

which, and of the illustrious island of Malta, their prosperous barque

seemed to fly across the waters. In fine, fetching a compass round the

island, in four days afterwards they made Lampadosa, and then the island

where Leonisa had been shipwrecked, at sight of which she almost

swooned.

On the following day the beloved native land they so longed for

gladdened their eyes and their hearts. Their spirits rose tumultuously

with this new joy, one of the greatest that can be known in this life,

to return safe and sound to one's country after long captivity; and one

which may compare with it is that of victory achieved over its enemies.

There was in the galley a chest full of flags and streamers of various

colours, with which Ricardo had the rigging adorned. Soon after daybreak

they were within less than a league of the city, when taking to their

oars, and uttering every now and then joyous cries, they advanced to the

harbour, the shore of which was immediately lined by a great concourse

of people; for the gaily adorned galley had been so long in sight, that

the whole town had come down to observe it more closely.

Meanwhile, Ricardo had entreated Leonisa to dress herself just as she

had appeared in the tent before the two pashas, for he wished to play

off a pleasant trick upon his relations. She did so, adding jewels to

jewels, pearls to pearls, and beauty to beauty (for it increases with

the satisfaction of the heart), to the renewed admiration and

astonishment of all. Ricardo and Mahmoud also dressed themselves in the

Turkish costume, and made the crew put on the garments of the dead

Turks. It was about eight o'clock when they entered the harbour, and the

morning was so calm and clear that it seemed as though it were intent on

beholding this joyful arrival.

Before coming into port, Ricardo fired a salute with the three pieces

belonging to the galley, which were one gun amidships, and two

falconets; the town returned the salute with an equal number. The whole

shore was in lively commotion, watching the approach of the gaily decked

galley; but when they had a nearer view of it, and saw by the white

turbans of the pretended mussulmans that it was a Turkish craft, there

was a general alarm. Suspecting some stratagem, the people flew to arms,

all the soldiers in the town were marched down to the port, and the

cavalry scoured the coast. Highly amused at all this, the navigators

held on their course, entered the port, and anchored close to the shore.

Then running out a plank they all stepped ashore one after the other as

if in procession, and falling on their knees kissed the ground with

tears of joy--a clear proof to all who witnessed their proceedings that

they were no Turks. When all the crew were out of the vessel, Halima

with her father and mother, and her two nephews, followed next, all

dressed as Turks; and the beautiful Leonisa, her face covered with a

crimson veil, and escorted on either side by Mahmoud and Ricardo, closed

the procession, while the eyes of the whole multitude were fixed upon

her. They too did as the others had done, and knelt and kissed the

ground.

Presently the captain and governor of the city advanced towards them,

perceiving that they were the principal persons belonging to the vessel.

The moment he set eyes on Ricardo he recognised him, ran to him with

open arms, and embraced him with the liveliest demonstrations of joy.

With the governor came Cornelio and his father, Leonisa's parents and

relations, and those of Ricardo, all of whom were among the principal

persons in the city. Ricardo returned the governor's embrace and his

cordial greeting; held out his hand to Cornelio (who had changed colour

at sight of him, and almost quaked for fear), and, holding Leonisa also

by the hand, thus addressed the bystanders: "Under your favour,

gentlemen, I beg that, before we enter the city and the temple to return

the thanks so justly due to our Lord for the great mercies vouchsafed to

us in our distresses, that you will listen to a few words I have to say

to you." The governor bade him say on, for all present would listen to

him with pleasure and in silence. All the principal people then formed a

circle round him, and he addressed them as follows:--

"You must well remember, gentlemen, the misfortune which befel me some

mouths ago in the garden of the Salt Pits, and the loss of Leonisa: nor

can you have forgotten the exertions I made to procure her liberation,

since, regardless of my own, I offered all I was worth for her ransom.

But this seeming generosity is not to be imputed to me as a merit, since

I did but offer my fortune for the ransom of my soul. What has since

happened to us both requires more time to relate, a more convenient

season, and a speaker less agitated than myself. For the present, let it

suffice to tell you that after various extraordinary adventures, and

after a thousand disappointments of our hopes of relief, merciful Heaven

has, without any merit of ours, restored us to our beloved country, with

hearts full of joy and with abundance of wealth. It is not from this,

nor from the recovery of my freedom, that springs the incomparable

pleasure I now experience, but from that which I imagine this sweet

enemy of mine in peace and in war enjoys on seeing herself restored to

freedom and to her birth-place. Yet, I rejoice in the general joy of

those who have been my companions in misery; and though grievous