Chapter III: Part 3

“All the Gods condemned this behaviour of man more or less, according to the sentiments that each entertained for them: the most good-natured amongst them represented to Jupiter that men were but men, that is to say, weak and faulty creatures, from whom he could expect nothing but imprudence and indiscretion; that, in their opinion, the Father of Heaven, instead of viewing their weakness with severity, ought rather to have pity on them than think of punishing them. Were we men, as they are, added they, we might conduct ourselves in the same manner, perhaps even worse; besides, consider what God it is that you have given them? see in what manner he uses them; he never leaves them, he flatters their desires, and enchants them with his seducing manners. You, on the contrary, are seen by them but seldom, and almost always with thunder in your hand, which frightens them; you ought not, therefore, to be surprised if they fear you more than they love you; they may hereafter, perhaps, reflect seriously upon their fault, and make atonement, as soon as they are informed how much their blind attachment to this divinity, has caused them to wrong the immortals, and particularly yourself.

“When the Gods, thus peaceably inclined, had thus remonstrated with Jupiter, Momus, who hated man, wished to give advice directly opposite; but he began in such free terms, that he was silenced, and told that he should be heard in his turn. The other Gods who were not better inclined towards the human race than Momus, did all they could to persuade the son of Saturn to extirpate mankind, alleging, that they were useless beings, for whom the Gods had no manner of occasion. Others, not so violent, thinking they gave admirable advice, recommended Jupiter to reduce such as had been culpable into dust again, and create others more perfect in their place, which would be an easy matter for him to do; upon which Apollo requested permission to speak, and, with that air of sweetness which has ever been attributed to him, addressed himself to the Father of the Gods in these words.

“‘Supreme Jupiter, full of love and goodness, thou art so justly irritated against man, that whatever cruel revenge you may be disposed to take on him, no inhabitant of Olympus will pretend to oppose thy will; it being not less the interest of all the Gods in general, than thine in particular, that mortals should not prove ungrateful for the favours and benefits they daily receive at our hands. Suffer me, however, to make it appear to you that if thou destroyest man, thou destroyest thine own work. This world, which thou hast created and embellished with a thousand wonderful things which thou hast bestowed upon it, will be no longer of any use, for we shall not any of us leave Heaven to reside there. If thou destroyest man to make a new race, that will do thee no honour, for it will rather be said that thou couldst not make thy work perfect in less than two trials: suffer, therefore, the human race to remain as it is; for it greatly concerns thy glory to maintain what thou hast created. Perhaps I may go so far as to say, that I do not think it would be to the honour of the Gods if men were without imperfection; if they were not weak and full of wants, what occasion would they have for our assistance?

“‘Nevertheless,’ continued he, ‘these ingrates ought to be punished; thou hast given them the God Pleasure, to whom they are too much attached; thou hast only, therefore, to oblige them to give up the idol, and send them down his brother in his room: thus thou wilt chastise them by the same means as they have offended thee; they will, I am convinced, soon acknowledge their fault, and have recourse to thy mercy to pardon their blindness; thou wilt then be fully avenged, and thou canst either forgive them or abandon them to the tyranny of their new divinity. This, great Jupiter! is what seems to me most becoming thy glory on this occasion; but the Lord of Heaven and Earth knows best what is fit to be done.’

“Apollo ceased to speak, and Momus, who was prepared with a discourse which his hatred for man had suggested, began to aggravate their offence; but he was but the dupe of his ill-will; all the other Immortals, who well knew his prejudice, rejected his advice, and agreed in opinion with Apollo. Agreeably to the decision of the celestial assembly, Mercury cut through the air in a moment, and descended upon earth, where he found man completely busied and charmed with the God Pleasure. No sooner did he begin to put in execution his orders to deprive them of him, than a general insurrection took place among the women as well as the men. Such fury was never known before; they ranged themselves round about their cherished deity, protesting they would rather die than be deprived of him.

“Mercury returned quickly up to Heaven, to inform Jupiter of this disorder, whose wrath towards man was increased by this intelligence; but Apollo, who always favoured them, interceded once more in their behalf so effectually, that he prevented the thunder from being hurled upon them. ‘Lord of Olympus,’ said he, ‘have pity on these poor weak creatures, and, instead of suffering your thunder to fall upon them, allow me to propose a milder method of bringing them to their senses: let us deceive them by a skilful trick, by withdrawing from them the God of Pleasure without their perceiving it, and placing under the same shape the God Dissatisfaction in his stead.’

“This stratagem was approved of, and Apollo himself undertook the execution of it. He descended upon earth with the God Dissatisfaction disguised, and found men and women all up in arms to protect their idol, whom they had placed in the midst of them; he dazzled their eyes and easily made the intended exchange; after which, he returned to the Immortals again, to enjoy with them the trick that he had just played upon mankind, who from that time, believing themselves still to have Pleasure among them, have sacrificed to his brother, without knowing it, in his place.”

This fable was much applauded by the bachelor, who agreed with his friend who had related it, that assuredly the pleasures of life seduce us by fine appearances, without there being any reality to be found in them. “Alas!” thought I to myself, while the gentlemen were thus reasoning, “that is but too true. When I first took it into my head to travel, I formed a most delightful idea of my journey, and flattered my imagination with a thousand agreeable fancies, the fallacy of which I am already but too well acquainted with.” After the friars had moralized for a considerable time upon this subject, the bachelor said to his companion, “To enliven the conversation a little, and to amuse us on the road, I purpose, with your permission, to relate you a story, which is to be found in the history of our wars with the Moors.” The other friar appeared curious to hear it, and, as well as I can remember, the bachelor recited it nearly in the following words.

CHAP. IX.

_The Amour of Ozmin and the beautiful Daraxa._

Whilst their Catholic Majesties Ferdinand and Isabella were at the siege of Baza, the Moors kept the Christians in full employment, and prodigies of valour were performed on both sides. The place was well situated and in good condition, and was defended by a garrison composed of the choicest troops of the King of Granada. Mahomet, surnamed El Chiquito--the diminutive--the governor, was a man skilful and experienced in war. Isabella was at Jaen, where she took care to supply the Christian troops, which Ferdinand commanded in person, with provisions. The army was divided into two bodies, one of which besieged the town, while the other covered the siege.

As the Moors had spared nothing to prevent the possibility of communication between the two camps, scarcely a day passed without some furious skirmish. On one of these occasions the besieged fought so desperately that they would have decisively defeated their besiegers if any valour could have made it possible; but the latter, animated by the presence and example of their king, and reinforced by frequent succours, obliged the Infidels at length to take flight, and pursued them so closely that they entered with them pell-mell into the suburbs of Baza.

The governor would not have failed to take advantage of this indiscreet ardour of the Christians had his troops been sufficient to support him in a vigorous sally; but finding his garrison too much weakened to undertake such an enterprize, he prudently contented himself with firing on the enemy from the walls, that they might not effect a lodgment in the suburbs; he then caused the gates of the town to be closed, fearing lest it should be carried by assault. In vain was he informed that his only daughter had unfortunately left the town to take the air in a garden in the suburbs, and that it was much feared she had fallen into the hands of the Christians; he answered like the Roman Consul, that he had rather lose his daughter than a fortress which the king had confided to his defence.

Among the noblemen in the Christian army who entered the suburbs with the Moors, Don Alonso de Zuniga was one who had particularly signalized himself. This cavalier, who was about eighteen years of age, was now making his first campaign; his aim was glory, and his only object in coming to the siege of Baza was to deserve the esteem of Ferdinand by the performance of some remarkable feat. Fortune favoured his wishes, for while in pursuit of the enemy, putting all who offered resistance to the sword, he approached a magnificent looking house, which appeared to belong to some person of quality. Resolved to ascertain whether there was any one within, he caused the door to be forced open with his soldiers’ axes. About a dozen men, armed with sabres only, presented themselves to dispute their entrance; but four or five of these being overthrown damped the courage of the rest, who saved themselves by flight over the walls of the garden.

Don Alonso’s soldiers, delighted to find a house elegantly furnished, thought of nothing but plundering it; for himself, who wished for nothing but an opportunity of signalizing himself, he examined the house from top to bottom, sword in hand, with five or six of his followers, breaking open every door, to see if there were any other Moors prepared to oppose him. Passing thus from room to room, he at length came to the last, at the door of which he heard a loud shriek from within, and at the same time perceived five women, four of whom, all in tears, and almost senseless with fear, threw themselves at his feet, imploring him to save their honour and their lives; but the fifth, who by her air and majestic appearance was evidently the mistress of the rest, instead of kneeling with the others, held a poniard in her hand with a determined countenance. “Stop!” said she, in the Castilian language, upon Don Alonso’s approaching her, “this dagger shall protect me from any one who presumes to touch me.”

No sooner did Don Alonso behold the face of the lady who addressed him in these courageous terms, than he was quite captivated by her beauty, and felt the emotions that love creates in a heart for the first time subjected to its dominion: already enraptured by his rising passion, he raised the visor of his helmet, sheathed his sword, and told the lady, in the most mild and respectful manner, that she need not be apprehensive of any violence from one who felt extremely concerned at the alarm he had caused her, but at the same time he felt most truly happy that fate had conducted him into her presence, to save her from the misfortunes that threatened her; he entreated her, therefore, to confide herself to his protection, and to accompany him at once, for fear of the fury of the soldiers, who, not being accustomed on such occasions as these to acknowledge any controul, might put it out of his power to preserve her from their outrages.

At these words, the truth of which she but too well felt, she accepted his proffered assistance; upon which he desired his followers to take care of the other women, and let them carry away with them whatever they wished; after which he offered his hand to his captive, who, in spite of her uneasiness, was somewhat divested of her fears by the attention and appearance of the young cavalier; armed as he was, to behold his beautiful face, and his long hair which flowed in curls over his cuirass, he had more the appearance of a beautiful girl than of a soldier.

This charming Moor, who, without exception, was the most engaging beauty in the kingdom of Granada, was named Daraxa; she was the daughter of the governor; and having learnt that the Moors had been driven back into the suburbs, she had endeavoured to regain the town, but finding the gates closed, had been obliged to return to this garden.

Though she was very fortunate in having fallen into the hands of Don Alonso, yet the thoughts of becoming a captive to the Christians sadly afflicted her. In spite of her courage she could not refrain from tears; she was not able to make any other reply to the obliging offers of her generous enemy than by giving him her hand, to shew the confidence she reposed in him. The young warrior, moved by the tears of his fair prisoner, tried all he could to console her; and as he spoke from the abundance of his heart, what he said was so tenderly expressive, that in any other situation it might have had more effect on the beautiful Moor; but, although she felt most sensibly his endeavours to sooth her under her misfortune, the acknowledgments that she made were but very inadequate as a return for the lively interest he took in her behalf.

As soon as he was informed that a retreat was sounded by order of the king, and that the Christians were already filing off to regain the camp, he yielded his own horse to the lady, who vaulted into the saddle entirely unassisted, and knew well how to manage her steed. He then assembled his soldiers in haste, in the midst of whom he placed the beautiful Moor and her women; and putting himself at the head of this little corps, which looked more like a cavalcade than an escort, he followed the other troops in the retreat.

The king was already acquainted with his adventure before he arrived at the camp, and was the more rejoiced at it as he entertained a particular regard for this cavalier, whom he considered to be a young man of great promise. Impatient to see so illustrious a prisoner, he did her the honour to advance to receive her, as soon as he perceived Don Alonso approaching his tent to conduct her into his presence. She advanced towards his Majesty with so majestic a mien, and so gracefully, as to charm all who beheld her; and would have fallen on her knees before him, but he prevented her so politely, and received her in such a manner, that she uttered, in a sort of extasy, “Ah! my lord, what charms would the honour of saluting the great Ferdinand have had, had it not been annexed by fate to one of the most cruel misfortunes that could have happened to me!” “Madam,” answered the King, in a most gracious manner, “you have no reason to consider it a misfortune to have become the prisoner of Don Alonso de Zuniga, who is an amiable young man, and who will pay you every attention, and spare nothing which may alleviate your misfortune; and, for my own part, I will take care you shall be so well entertained that you shall soon cease to have occasion to repine at fortune.”

His Majesty added, that she might write to her father the Governor, assuring him she should meet with the treatment due to her birth. He then desired Don Alonso, with a smile, to continue to take good care of Daraxa. “Conduct her,” said he, “to my own tent, where she can rest this night with her women, and to-morrow you shall yourself escort her to Jaen, where she will be better received and entertained by the Queen than she can be in a camp.”

Those officers in the army who had seen the beautiful Moor spoke of her to the others in such high terms that they were all curious to see her, and applied to Zuniga, to whom she was confided, to gratify their curiosity; but Don Alonso, jealous of his happiness, would not grant their requests, but managed to keep them from the royal tent by all sorts of excuses; for they persecuted him in such a manner, to afford them this satisfaction, that he was much troubled to resist their importunities. The next morning, according to the King’s orders, he set out for Jaen, where he arrived in the evening with his charming captive, whom he presented to the Queen. Her Majesty, to whom the King had dispatched a courier the preceding evening, was already informed of every thing. She received Daraxa most graciously, and was extremely pleased to see her. She was particularly struck with the elegance of her appearance; and when she had conversed with her for some time, was convinced that her good sense and wit were at least equal to her beauty.

In the mean time, Don Alonso, having performed his commission, and being obliged to return to the army, found now for the first time, that if love has its sweets, it is not unaccompanied by chagrin; and that that deity makes us pay dearly for the least favor. He could not reflect without extreme pain that he was on the point of leaving his beautiful Moor; but what most afflicted him was, that he had not yet disclosed his sentiments to her, though he had had more than one favourable opportunity; either from a timidity, which the bravest lovers sometimes feel, or from want of experience, he had resolved to take no other mode of declaring his passion than by his actions; nevertheless, as he knew that men ought to speak first on such occasions, he made up his mind at length to declare himself. He had only now to think of the manner in which he should make this avowal; and having reflected for a long time on the subject, but not being content with any thing he could think of, he resolved to leave it entirely to his passion to inspire him with words.

With this intention he repaired to the Queen to receive her commands, and asked permission to take leave of Daraxa. The Queen, who well knew that this young lord could not have passed two days with so lovely a person as the beautiful Moor with impunity, wished to have the pleasure of witnessing their separation: “What you desire is reasonable,” said she to Don Alonso, “since Daraxa is your prisoner; but as she is under my protection, I must watch over all her actions; you can only converse with her, therefore, in my presence.” This embarrassed him, and he now almost despaired of being able to acquaint his captive, that in leaving her he quitted what was dearest in the world to him.

What he viewed as so great an obstacle to the accomplishment of his desires, served, however, to promote them. The Queen having sent for the beautiful Moor, said to her: “My daughter,” (for so she already called her from friendship) “behold a young warrior, who I fear is more to be pitied, and more a prisoner than you are; he has considered it a duty to take leave of his captive previous to his departure for the army; I am his friend, and I permit him to disclose, in my presence, the tender sentiments that he cannot but have conceived for you.” Daraxa blushed: she had been till now so much taken up with her own misfortunes, that she had not once thought of endeavouring to distinguish the motives of Don Alonso’s actions, or if she had observed any attention more than ordinary in his behaviour, she had attributed it solely to pity, which is never without a degree of tenderness: besides which, her heart was already prepossessed in favor of another, so that she could but look upon Zuniga with an indifferent eye.

She replied to the Queen: That she should never forget her obligations to that cavalier; and that not having it in her power to acknowledge them, otherwise than by her wishes, she hoped that it would not be his fate to be taken prisoner; or should he be so unfortunate, she trusted that he would meet with as kind treatment as she had experienced. The Queen, curious to hear what answer Don Alonso would make to this compliment, made no reply, to afford him an opportunity of speaking. But this young nobleman, whose quick repartees, on other occasions, had been much admired at Court, now stood confused, either because he felt too violently the emotions of love, or under restraint in the presence of the Queen. He replied only to Daraxa, that whatever misfortunes might befal him, he should consider himself but too happy under them, if he might presume to call himself her champion, and that the object of his visit was to solicit this honor. “This is a favor never refused in this country,” said the Queen, desirous of keeping up the conversation to gratify Zuniga, “and Daraxa will surely find more reasons than one for granting this request.” “Madam,” answered the beautiful Moor, “I should be well content to have for my champion a man of Don Alonso’s high birth and accomplishments; but if the laws of Chivalry are the same among the Christians as with us Moors, how can I thus strongly interest myself in favor of a warrior who hears arms against my country?”

Although the Queen felt the force of this reply, she did not therefore conclude here, but represented to her fair prisoner, that this was a particular case; that she need have no scruple in feeling an interest and participating in the glory and fortune of a cavalier, to whom she was under such obligations as would be more than a sufficient excuse for her; and that she would thereby engage Don Alonso to treat the Moors that might fall into his power, more kindly. Zuniga was overjoyed to find the Queen espouse his cause with so much earnestness: and Daraxa, fearing that she might betray herself if she persisted in refusing the Queen’s request, thought it more advisable to make no further answer, since silence might imply that she did not object to what was desired of her.

“This will not suffice,” continued the Queen, who was determined to finish the matter, “for when any lady amongst us makes choice of a particular champion, it is usual to bestow on him some token of her preference, such as a scarf, her portrait, a handkerchief, a ribbon, or the like.” This was likewise a custom among the Moors; but Daraxa did not wish to engage herself so far; as, however, the desires of the Queen were laws to her, she presented Don Alonso with a knot of ribbon which she wore on her head, interwoven in the Moorish fashion. Zuniga received this gift with bended knees, and kissing the hand that bestowed it, as lovers were wont to do in those days, he swore never to do any thing to render himself unworthy his mistress’ favor. After this ceremony, the Queen, who was exceedingly pleased at the sight, told Don Alonso that she doubted not he would soon signalize himself by such feats of arms as would evince that he was well deserving of the honor that had just been conferred on him. He answered that he must be dependant on Fortune to furnish him with opportunities, and that it should not be the fault of his heart if he neglected them, or if they terminated unfortunately for him.

After having thus spoken, he returned her Majesty thanks for all her kindness; then addressing himself to the beautiful Moor, he implored her to deign sometimes to bestow a thought on a cavalier whose only glory was to serve his Catholic Majesty, and to render himself worthy of her esteem. After this he departed for the army.

Upon his arrival at the camp, he learned that king Ferdinand and king Mahomet had had an interview, that Baza had capitulated, and that it was stipulated in the articles, that all prisoners made during the siege should be restored on both sides. This news afflicted the amorous Don Alonso, who from that moment believed himself debarred from the sight of the object of his affection: but the Queen, who appeared to have undertaken to complete the happiness of this cavalier, could not make up her mind to think of ever parting with Daraxa, for whom she had conceived so sincere a friendship, that she could scarcely have lived without her company. The Moorish Governor, her father, applied for her return in the most urgent manner, but the Queen wrote to him in such kind and pressing terms, requesting him to allow his daughter to remain with her, that notwithstanding the excess of his love for her, he could not refuse to grant such a request, well persuaded that he should not have reason to repent of his complaisance.

The campaign being thus ended, the King resolved to pass the winter at Seville. He wrote to the Queen to this effect, who accordingly repaired there two or three days before he arrived. Never had the court of that monarch been more magnificent, the lords endeavoured to eclipse each other in splendour, and no expence was spared to make a brilliant figure. Don Alonso, who was one of the richest amongst them, and whose absence had only served to increase his love, spared nothing to make his equipage and train worthy of the _Champion of the beautiful Moor_, which title he had given himself, and upon which he much prided himself at Court, and the knot of ribbon he had received from that lady was elegantly attached to his breast.

All this, however, signified little with Daraxa, who treated him with the same indifference as the other lords who had professed themselves her lovers, among whom were Don Roderigo de Padilla, Don Juan d’Alsenna, and Don Diego de Castro. The only advantage that Don Alonso had over his rivals was, that he was permitted to visit and converse with his mistress more frequently than the others; for which he was indebted to the Queen’s kindness, who, ardently wishing to make the fair Moor a Christian, that she might marry and retain her at Court, had fixed upon him as the most advantageous match for her.

The Queen tried every means to prevail upon her to change her religion. One day she said to her: “My dear Daraxa, I have a great curiosity and wish to see you dressed in a Spanish habit; as I think that dress will become your beauty better than your own, and as I will make you a present of one I have myself worn, I am sure you will try it on to oblige me.” The Queen hoped by this means to influence her mind by degrees. Daraxa, who was well pleased with the dress of the Spanish women, and rejoiced at being able to please her Majesty, willingly consented to afford her that satisfaction. When she first made her appearance in her new dress, the King and the whole Court were delighted, and she completely eclipsed the numerous beauties that had hitherto charmed them. What jealousies and infidelities did she not cause! For, in proportion as she pleased the men, she became the envy of the women, who of course discovered more imperfections than charms in her.

Although she was not unconscious of the envy that she occasioned, she was rather vexed at it than conceited, and even became careless in her dress. The Queen sometimes quarrelled with her on this subject, and sent her daily new ornaments to prevail upon her to take more pains with her person; but she dressed herself once or twice with these, and thought of them no more. Every one was surprised to observe that she was plunged in a profound melancholy, which nothing could dispel. She sought to be alone, and was often surprised in tears, the report of which much affected the Queen, who, however, considered that she was only unhappy at being so far from her relations, and that her sadness would soon be at an end.

The King, wishing to contribute towards diverting his illustrious prisoner, as well as the numerous officers who had served under him so ably in the late campaign, proposed a solemn bull-fight, and the sports of canes, in some places called carousals: the day fixed on for these amusements was proclaimed, that such cavaliers as chose might prepare for them.

It is now time that I should inform you of the cause of the melancholy of the beautiful Moor; she was enamoured of a young nobleman of Granada, who was descended, as she herself was, from Moorish kings, and whose valour had been proved on several occasions; he was possessed of the most amiable personal qualities; in short, he was one of the most accomplished cavaliers at the Court of Granada. His name was Ozmin. They had been attached to each other from their infancy, and their fathers, who were most intimate friends, had resolved to preserve their amity indissoluble by marriage. On the eve of these nuptials, when Ozmin, who was at Granada, was expected at Baza to celebrate them, Ferdinand suddenly besieged this place with so much secresy and precaution, that there was not the slightest suspicion of it at the Court of king Mahomet.

Upon hearing this news, so important to the Moors, Ozmin, incited by love and glory, undertook to enter Baza, where he was expected, at the head of two hundred men, who, for the most part, consisted of such of his friends and dependants as were willing to follow his fortune, and serve their king. They met with two parties in less than three hours, and defeated them; but a third party, consisting of six hundred men, fell upon them within half a league of the town, calling to them to surrender, if they expected quarter. Ozmin, not alarmed at the inequality of numbers, formed his men into a squadron, placing his wounded in the centre; then rushing on the enemy in as vigorous a manner as if he had not met with the two former detachments, he kept the victory doubtful during two hours; already more than half on the side of the Christians were disabled, and the rest so disordered as to be almost ready for flight, when a reinforcement of two hundred men came in very a-propos to their relief. This completely turned the scale, and Ozmin, wounded in three several parts, thought now of nothing but to save the rest of his men by retreating: which he did in so good order, and with such fortunate stands, that the Christians soon thought fit to give over their pursuit of them. He got back to Granada with a hundred and ten men, of whom twelve only were not wounded.

This skirmish was accounted one of the most valiant exploits that had been ever known, and the name of Ozmin became famous among the Christian troops. Having got home he was obliged to confine himself to his bed. King Mahomet, his kinsman, delighted by the glory that he had acquired by so brilliant an action, was not content with bestowing his praise upon him, but did him the honour of a visit, as a proof of the high sense he entertained of his valour; but what completed his joy, was a letter he received from his dear Daraxa, wherein she desired him to pay more regard to his wounds than to the honour they obtained him; that she valued the lover in him more than the hero; and concluded by exhorting him to take more care of himself for the future. With this letter she sent him a large handkerchief, embroidered after the Moorish manner, of her own work, which was the more gratifying to her lover, as it was the first present she had hitherto made him.

The brave Ozmin was extremely impatient to be cured of his wounds, in order to make a second attempt to get into Baza, for he could no longer exist without the company of his future wife. The Governor of the place having notice of his design, found means to caution him against making a second attempt by force of arms, the passes being too well guarded to afford any hopes of success; he advised him to dress himself in a Spanish habit, and set out on a particular night, which they would agree on between them, so as to arrive the next morning at break of day near to Baza, which he might thence enter, under shelter of a sally that should be made expressly for that purpose. The Governor sent him these letters, and received his answers to them, by a faithful servant of Ozmin’s, whose name was Orviedo, who having been fourteen years a prisoner among the Christians, knew their manners and spoke their language so well, that he might well have passed for a Spaniard; in addition to this, he was a sharp and cunning fellow, and was well acquainted with the roads.

As soon as Ozmin was sufficiently recovered to put this project in execution, he set out for Granada on the night appointed, followed by Orviedo only, both disguised in Spanish dresses; though they were well mounted, they were obliged to take so many out-of-the-way roads to avoid the Christian parties, and guarded passes, that day had already appeared before they arrived within a league of Baza. As they advanced, they observed clouds of dust, and soon perceived the Christian troops so much in motion on all sides, that they felt well assured there would be a very decisive action that day; it was, in fact, the very day on which Don Alonso carried off the beautiful Moor. Our two travellers entered into a wood, where they came to a stand, fearing lest they should precipitate themselves into some inextricable difficulty; and Orviedo, as a warrior used to find expedients suitable to such conjunctures, said to his master: “My Lord, if you will take my advice, you will remain here in concealment, while I go forward alone and on foot to reconnoitre the motions of the Christians, and use every art to get into the town and acquaint the Governor where you are staying: if I do not rejoin you in two hours, you may take it for granted I have got into the town, and that every thing shall be prepared to receive you.”

Ozmin approved of this advice, and Orviedo, having tied his horse to a tree, walked on towards Baza: his master, in spite of the violent feelings which agitated him, waited patiently for above two hours; after which, considering that it was time to advance towards the town, and that according to what Orviedo had said, he should meet with people ready to second his intentions, he pushed on by the shortest road, until he arrived within a quarter of a league of the town; when on a sudden he discovered a troop of Moors riding up to him at full speed; he thought that this was the sally made in his favor, but he was quickly and not very agreeably undeceived. As they took him for a Christian, from his Andalusian habit, they fired upon him, and would undoubtedly have killed him, if by good luck the officer at their head, to whom he called, had not recognized his voice. If this troop was surprised at the sight of him, he was not less astonished when he understood that the whole Christian army commanded by Ferdinand in person, had fallen upon two or three thousand men who had sallied from the town; that after a violent action in which most of the Moors had perished, the enemy, pursuing the rest to the suburbs, had entered it pell-mell with them, and had taken possession of it; in short, that he must not flatter himself with the idea of entering the town; to attempt it being certain death or captivity. Ozmin, afflicted beyond measure at this intelligence, and still more so at the necessity of thinking of saving himself with the rest, formed a body of these fugitives of about three hundred men, and returned with them to Granada, more mortified than the first time at the ill success of his enterprise.

This sad news much alarmed king Mahomet, who, thinking, justly, that the garrison of Baza must be much weakened after such an action, despaired of being able to relieve the place, which appeared to him on the point of being taken; and what made him more uneasy was, that after losing this town, there would be no other able to endure a siege but Granada, the capitol of his kingdom, and his last refuge. All the Moorish Court, after its King’s example, was filled with grief.

As for Ozmin, his grief is not to be described; but soon after his return to Granada, having learned that the Christians, who had entered the suburbs of Baza with the Moors, had been obliged to abandon the town, he felt somewhat re-animated, and resolved to try his fate a third time. But just as he was ready to set out, Orviedo, his faithful squire, arrived from that city, charged with a packet from the Governor for the King, and a letter for Ozmin, in which he was made acquainted with the misfortune which had befallen his Daraxa.

The perusal of this sad intelligence acted like a thunderbolt on the amorous Ozmin; at first he stood for some time motionless; and when he had at length recovered his senses, it was only to abandon himself to the most violent agonies of mind, accompanied by sobbings and convulsions. When this paroxysm had subsided, he was in such a condition, that he had not even power left for lamentation; a fever seized him, his strength failed him, and his death was hourly expected; but Love, that great and learned doctor, especially in disorders occasioned by himself, suddenly called him to life, by inspiring a project calculated to console him, and easy to be put in execution; from that moment he began visibly to recover; he regained his strength, and was soon restored to perfect health.

Baza had been surrendered; it was well known that the Catholic King held his court at Seville, and that it was his intention to pass the winter there with the Queen. Ozmin not doubting that Daraxa was highly in favor with that Princess, resolved to repair to that city with Orviedo, both disguised as Andalusian gentlemen; for besides that they both spoke the Castilian language so well that it would be difficult to discover that they were Moors, he felt persuaded that they should not attract the least notice in a town which must needs be in the greatest confusion. He communicated his new project to Orviedo, whose natural disposition was enterprising, and who never threw difficulties in the way; and the master and squire accordingly set out one night from Granada, in the most private manner, mounted upon horses not inferior in their paces and speed to the most famous coursers of the Paladins, with a considerable quantity of jewels, and several purses of gold, which they did not forget to provide themselves with.

They expected to meet with some awkward rencontre in passing through the places where the Christian troops were posted, and they were not deceived in their expectation. The next day, within a league of Loxa, they unluckily fell in with the Grand Provost of the army, with his horsemen, who were in pursuit of deserters; he examined our two travellers, who though they had not indeed much appearance of such as he was in search of, yet as they seemed too well mounted for persons who were plainly dressed, he stopped them, and inquired whence they came, and whither they were going. Orviedo replied that they were of the Marquis of Astorgas’ division, and that important business called them to Seville. Upon this the Provost required to see their furlough; and as they were not able to produce this, he determined to conduct them back to the post from whence they said they came. By way of substitute for this furlough, however, Ozmin drew from one of his fingers a very fine diamond ring, which he presented to the Provost, who was so charmed with the present, that he not only made a thousand apologies for having stopped them on their journey, but insisted upon accompanying them to Loxa, to shew that he understood good manners, and had a grateful heart.

They arrived at Seville without meeting with any other adventure; and took up their lodgings in the suburbs beyond the river Guadalquiver; which, although the most remote and obscure part of the town, was at that time so thronged with persons of all qualities, and their equipages, that they were fortunate in obtaining any accommodation at all, which was not to be wondered at, it being only a few days before the combat of bulls, when every one was busied in the magnificent preparations that were making for these diversions. Our Moors had only to listen to the conversation of the servants of the numerous noblemen, with whom their inn was filled, as well as all the rest in the town, to be perfectly well informed of whatever was going on at the court.

By these means, Ozmin learned more than he wished to know; they informed him, among other things, that Don Alonso styled himself the Knight of the beautiful Moor; that Daraxa had several other lovers, but that Don Alonso had the advantage over all his rivals; and that if that lady embraced Christianity, as was expected, it was confidently reported that he would marry her. To complete his torments, the lively description they gave of this cavalier was sufficient to agonize so nice and passionate a lover as the wretched Ozmin; and had it not been for Orviedo, he must certainly have relapsed into those ravings which had before brought him so near the grave. This faithful squire recovered him by degrees, by representing to him that he wronged Daraxa by such alarms, who loved him too well to be faithless towards him: that, as for the rest, it was not surprising that so lovely a person should have inspired many with love, in a court celebrated for gallantry. Orviedo completely succeeded in calming the agitation of his master’s mind, by reminding him, that the approaching diversions would furnish a good opportunity for himself to judge of the merit of his rivals, as well as how Daraxa conducted herself towards them; and that he could take his future measures accordingly. Ozmin yielded to his reasonings, and determined to observe Daraxa attentively; at the same time, to shew her the difference between his rivals and himself, and to signalize himself by his strength and dexterity in the presence of the whole of the Catholic Court, he resolved to enter the lists at the combat of bulls. He enjoined Orviedo to prepare every thing that would be necessary for that exercise, invented by the Moors, and at which Ozmin was universally acknowledged to be the most expert in their nation.

The day of the solemnity at last arrived; never had so much magnificence been seen; every thing was in order early in the morning; rich ornaments and fine tapestries lined the streets through which Ferdinand and Isabella were to pass with their court, in their way to the great square appropriated to the diversions. Here was assembled a complete crowd of people of every description seated on benches fixed round about as in an amphitheatre; and on all sides were to be seen an infinite number of ladies and gentlemen most superbly dressed, crowding the windows and balconies, so that even the spectators formed a gratifying sight.

About three o’clock in the afternoon, the King and Queen took their places in their balcony; in another, at the side of this, sat the beautiful Moor, accompanied by many ladies and several old lords, who, being no longer vigorous in these sports, found themselves obliged to resign the honour of the combats to the younger noblemen. The sports began, as usual, by the combat of bulls; they turned loose one at first, who not being one of the most savage, was quickly brought to the ground.

Our two Moors were already at the place; they kept on the outside of the square, among many other persons on horseback, to see how the Christians managed these diversions. It need not be asked whether Ozmin looked about impatiently for his mistress, whom he soon distinguished; but how great his surprise, and what fatal presages did he form, when he perceived that she was dressed in a Spanish habit; nevertheless, though he could but see her from afar off, he could not avoid remarking a certain sadness in her countenance; in fact, she felt so little interest in these diversions, that an express desire of the Queen had been necessary to oblige her to dress herself suitably to the occasion, and notwithstanding which, she had taken but little pains to adorn herself; with her elbow leaning on the balcony, and her head reclining on her hand, her eye wandered on all sides with indifference, or rather her mind was so abstracted from the sights before her, that she saw nothing at all.

Although this melancholy appearance admitted of different interpretations, Ozmin, through some remains of hope, explained it in his own favor; and felt a secret pleasure on that account, of which refined lovers only are susceptible. While he was thus occupied in observing Daraxa with attention, the shouts of the spectators at seeing the second bull turned out, much stronger and more vicious than the first, obliged him, at length, to withdraw his attention, which had been so long fixed on her balcony. He looked round the square, and observed that the bull gave full employment to the cavaliers that opposed him; but as he did not wish to shew what he could perform until after the death of this second bull, it much surprised the spectators that were round about them, that though Orviedo and he were superbly equipped, they appeared to have no intention of venturing within the square: “for what possible reason,” said they aloud one to another, “are these two champions standing here without the lists? Are they only come here to see the sports? Dare they not enter? Are they afraid of the bull’s horns? Do they carry a lance only to lend it to some cavalier more worthy to do honour to himself with it?”

These railleries, so usual among the common people, who spare nobody on such occasions, were heard by Ozmin and Orviedo with contempt; all they attended to was the issue of the combat of the bull which was then in the square. This high-spirited animal had already disabled two of the combatants, and having become more enraged by two slight wounds from Don Alonso, he avenged himself on his horse, which he laid dead on the spot; but just at that moment, Don Rodrigo de Padilla, one of the strongest of all the combatants, struck the bull with such force, that another blow was not necessary to dispatch him.

A third bull was on the point of being loosed, when Ozmin, who perceived it, made sign to Orviedo to walk up to the bars of the lists, and desire admission; and their appearance was of too much consequence for this to be refused them. No sooner had they got within the lists, than every eye was turned upon them; a silent admiration prevailed throughout the place for a considerable time; every one seemed to take great pleasure in considering the splendour of their arms, the tastefulness of their equipage, and, above all, their noble appearance on horseback. Ozmin, especially, attracted the observation of the assembly by his graceful and fashionable deportment. Both their faces were covered with blue crape, to shew that they did not wish to be known. The squire carried his master’s lance in a different manner from the Spaniards; and Ozmin wore round his left arm the embroidered handkerchief that Daraxa had given him, which was a gallantry quite different from the custom in Spain; from which it was concluded, that if they were not foreigners they at least wished to be thought so; but that they were Moors was not even suspected. Ferdinand was one of the first who had his eyes upon them, and he pointed them out to the Queen, who was not less pleased with their appearance. All the cavaliers, within the barrier, made way for them to pass, and conceived, of the master in particular, the most advantageous opinion.

Daraxa was the only one present who had taken no notice of these new champions, and, most probably, would not have seen them at all, if the old Don Lewis, Marquis de Padilla, father of Don Rodrigo, after having rallied her upon her pensive and melancholy humour, had not obliged her at last to turn her head that way. At first sight of these two cavaliers, she felt a slight emotion, which she could not account for; their foreign air excited her curiosity so as to induce her to ask Don Lewis who they were. “I know not, Madam,” replied he, “nor is the King himself able to learn.” In the mean time Ozmin approached the balcony where she was; she fixed her eyes upon the handkerchief that he wore upon his arm, and the palpitation of her heart at the moment inspired her with a thousand thoughts. She could not, however, yet believe that it could be the same handkerchief she had sent her lover when he was wounded, nor that it was that dear lover himself who now stood before her eyes; but as he stopped opposite to her balcony, and she had full leisure to observe him with attention, her heart at length assured her that _it could be no other_.

She was on the point of abandoning herself to the most excessive joy, when the third bull, who, since he had been loose, had completely disordered the whole square, came up, and interrupted these delightful moments, by advancing towards Ozmin. This formidable animal was one of the Tarita breed, and a more enormous beast had never been seen. His frightful bellowings spread terror throughout the place. Though he had no need to be irritated, they did not, therefore, omit to throw stakes at him, according to custom, which so excited his rage, that Don Rodrigo, Don Alonso, and the other combatants, dared not face him with the intrepidity that they had shewn towards the two others.

This terrible beast, then, rushed towards Ozmin, who at that moment was thinking of nothing less than preparing to defend himself; but being warned of his danger by Orviedo, who quickly handed him his lance, and animated by the sight of his mistress, he boldly presented himself before the bull, and thrust his lance between the neck and shoulder with so much vigor, that he left him nailed to the earth, as if he had been struck down by a thunderbolt, with more than half of the lance through his body; after which our champion threw the broken remainder, which was still in his hand, into the middle of the square, and withdrew.