part08-第4章

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　　Nothing　was　found　to　be　so　efficacious　in　dispelling　the　royal

megrims　as　the　power　of　music；　the　queen　took　care；　therefore；　to　have

the　best　performers；　both　vocal　and　instrumental；　at　hand；　and

retained　the　famous　Italian　singer　Farinelli　about　the　court　as　a　kind

of　royal　physician。

　　At　the　moment　we　treat　of；　however；　a　freak　had　come　over　the　mind

of　this　sapient　and　illustrious　Bourbon　that　surpassed　all　former

vagaries。　After　a　long　spell　of　imaginary　illness；　which　set　all　the

strains　of　Farinelli　and　the　consultations　of　a　whole　orchestra　of

court　fiddlers　at　defiance；　the　monarch　fairly；　in　idea；　gave　up　the

ghost；　and　considered　himself　absolutely　dead。

　　This　would　have　been　harmless　enough；　and　even　convenient　both　to

his　queen　and　courtiers；　had　he　been　content　to　remain　in　the　quietude

befitting　a　dead　man；　but　to　their　annoyance　he　insisted　upon　having

the　funeral　ceremonies　performed　over　him；　and；　to　their　inexpressible

perplexity；　began　to　grow　impatient；　and　to　revile　bitterly　at　them

for　negligence　and　disrespect；　in　leaving　him　unburied。　What　was　to　be

done？　To　disobey　the　king's　positive　commands　was　monstrous　in　the

eyes　of　the　obsequious　courtiers　of　a　punctilious　court…　but　to　obey

him；　and　bury　him　alive　would　be　downright　regicide！

　　In　the　midst　of　this　fearful　dilemma　a　rumor　reached　the　court；　of

the　female　minstrel　who　was　turning　the　brains　of　all　Andalusia。　The

queen　dispatched　missions　in　all　haste　to　summon　her　to　St。　Ildefonso；

where　the　court　at　that　time　resided。

　　Within　a　few　days；　as　the　queen　with　her　maids　of　honor　was

walking　in　those　stately　gardens；　intended；　with　their　avenues　and

terraces　and　fountains；　to　eclipse　the　glories　of　Versailles；　the

far…famed　minstrel　was　conducted　into　her　presence。　The　imperial

Elizabetta　gazed　with　surprise　at　the　youthful　and　unpretending

appearance　of　the　little　being　that　had　set　the　world　madding。　She　was

in　her　picturesque　Andalusian　dress；　her　silver　lute　in　hand；　and

stood　with　modest　and　downcast　eyes；　but　with　a　simplicity　and

freshness　of　beauty　that　still　bespoke　her　〃the　Rose　of　the　Alhambra。〃

　　As　usual　she　was　accompanied　by　the　ever…vigilant　Fredegonda；　who

gave　the　whole　history　of　her　parentage　and　descent　to　the　inquiring

queen。　If　the　stately　Elizabetta　had　been　interested　by　the　appearance

of　Jacinta；　she　was　still　more　pleased　when　she　learnt　that　she　was　of

a　meritorious　though　impoverished　line；　and　that　her　father　had

bravely　fallen　in　the　service　of　the　crown。　〃If　thy　powers　equal　their

renown；〃　said　she；　〃and　thou　canst　cast　forth　this　evil　spirit　that

possesses　thy　sovereign；　thy　fortunes　shall　henceforth　be　my　care；　and

honors　and　wealth　attend　thee。〃

　　Impatient　to　make　trial　of　her　skill；　she　led　the　way　at　once　to　the

apartment　of　the　moody　monarch。

　　Jacinta　followed　with　downcast　eyes　through　files　of　guards　and

crowds　of　courtiers。　They　arrived　at　length　at　a　great　chamber　hung

with　black。　The　windows　were　closed　to　exclude　the　light　of　day：　a

number　of　yellow　wax　tapers　in　silver　sconces　diffused　a　lugubrious

light；　and　dimly　revealed　the　figures　of　mutes　in　mourning　dresses；

and　courtiers　who　glided　about　with　noiseless　step　and　woebegone

visage。　In　the　midst　of　a　funeral　bed　or　bier；　his　hands　folded　on　his

breast；　and　the　tip　of　his　nose　just　visible；　lay　extended　this

would…be…buried　monarch。

　　The　queen　entered　the　chamber　in　silence；　and　pointing　to　a

footstool　in　an　obscure　corner；　beckoned　to　Jacinta　to　sit　down　and

commence。

　　At　first　she　touched　her　lute　with　a　faltering　hand；　but　gathering

confidence　and　animation　as　she　proceeded；　drew　forth　such　soft　aerial

harmony；　that　all　present　could　scarce　believe　it　mortal。　As　to　the

monarch；　who　had　already　considered　himself　in　the　world　of　spirits；

he　set　it　down　for　some　angelic　melody　or　the　music　of　the　spheres。　By

degrees　the　theme　was　varied；　and　the　voice　of　the　minstrel

accompanied　the　instrument。　She　poured　forth　one　of　the　legendary

ballads　treating　of　the　ancient　glories　of　the　Alhambra　and　the

achievements　of　the　Moors。　Her　whole　soul　entered　into　the　theme；

for　with　the　recollections　of　the　Alhambra　was　associated　the　story　of

her　love。　The　funeral　chamber　resounded　with　the　animating　strain。

It　entered　into　the　gloomy　heart　of　the　monarch。　He　raised　his　head

and　gazed　around：　he　sat　up　on　his　couch；　his　eye　began　to　kindle…

at　length；　leaping　upon　the　floor；　he　called　for　sword　and　buckler。

　　The　triumph　of　music；　or　rather　of　the　enchanted　lute；　was　complete；

the　demon　of　melancholy　was　cast　forth；　and；　as　it　were；　a　dead　man

brought　to　life。　The　windows　of　the　apartment　were　thrown　open；　the

glorious　effulgence　of　Spanish　sunshine　burst　into　the　late　lugubrious

chamber；　all　eyes　sought　the　lovely　enchantress；　but　the　lute　had

fallen　from　her　hand；　she　had　sunk　upon　the　earth；　and　the　next　moment

was　clasped　to　the　bosom　of　Ruyz　de　Alarcon。

　　The　nuptials　of　the　happy　couple　were　celebrated　soon　afterwards

with　great　splendor；　and　the　Rose　of　the　Alhambra　became　the

ornament　and　delight　of　the　court。　〃But　hold…　not　so　fast〃…　I　hear　the

reader　exclaim；　〃this　is　jumping　to　the　end　of　a　story　at　a　furious

rate！　First　let　us　know　how　Ruyz　de　Alarcon　managed　to　account　to

Jacinta　for　his　long　neglect？〃　Nothing　more　easy；　the　venerable；

time…honored　excuse；　the　opposition　to　his　wishes　by　a　proud；

pragmatical　old　father：　besides；　young　people；　who　really　like　one

another；　soon　come　to　an　amicable　understanding；　and　bury　all　past

grievances　when　once　they　meet。

　　But　how　was　the　proud　pragmatical　old　father　reconciled　to　the

match？

　　Oh！　as　to　that；　his　scruples　were　easily　overcome　by　a　word　or　two

from　the　queen；　especially　as　dignities　and　rewards　were　showered　upon

the　blooming　favorite　of　royalty。　Besides；　the　lute　of　Jacinta；　you

know；　possessed　a　magic　power；　and　could　control　the　most　stubborn

head　and　hardest　breast。

　　And　what　came　of　the　enchanted　lute？

　　Oh；　that　is　the　most　curious　matter　of　all；　and　plainly　proves　the

truth　of　the　whole　story。　That　lute　remained　for　some　time　in　the

family；　but　was　purloined　and　carried　off；　as　was　supposed；　by　the

great　singer　Farinelli；　in　pure　jealousy。　At　his　death　it　passed

into　other　hands　in　Italy；　who　were　ignorant　of　its　mystic　powers；　and

melting　down　the　silver；　transferred　the　strings　to　an　old　Cremona

fiddle。　The　strings　still　retain　something　of　their　magic　virtues。　A

word　in　the　reader's　ear；　but　let　it　go　no　further…　that　fiddle　is　now

bewitching　the　whole　world…　it　is　the　fiddle　of　Paganini！

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　Veteran。



　　AMONG　the　curious　acquaintances　I　made　in　my　rambles　about　the

fortress；　was　a　brave　and　battered　old　colonel　of　Invalids；　who　was

nestled　like　a　hawk　in　one　of　the　Moorish　towers。　His　history；　which

he　was　fond　of　telling；　was　a　tissue　of　those　adventures；　mishaps；　and

vicissitudes　that　render　the　life　of　almost　every　Spaniard　of　note

as　varied　and　whimsical　as　the　pages　of　Gil　Blas。

　　He　was　in　America　at　twelve　years　of　age；　and　reckoned　among　the

most　signal　and　fortunate　events　of　his　life；　his　having　seen

General　Washington。　Since　then　he　had　taken　a　part　in　all　the　wars

of　his　country；　he　could　speak　experimentally　of　most　of　the　prisons

and　dungeons　of　the　Peninsula；　had　been　lamed　of　one　leg；　crippled

in　his　hands；　and　so　cut　up　and　carbonadoed　that　he　was　a　kind　of

walking　monument　of　the　troubles　of　Spain；　on　which　there　was　a　scar

for　every　battle　and　broil；　as　every　year　of　captivity　was　notched

upon　the　tree　of　Robinson　Crusoe。　The　greatest　misfortune　of　the　brave

old　cavalier；　however；　appeared　to　have　been　his　having　commanded　at

Malaga　during　a　time　of　peril　and　confusion；　and　been　made　a　general

by　the　inhabitants；　to　protect　them　from　the　invasion　of　the　French。

This　had　entailed　upon　him　a　number　of　just　claims　upon　government；

that　I　feared　would　employ　him　until　his　dying