Leila or, the Siege of Granada, Complete
Page 25
CHAPTER II. THE NOVICE.
It was in one of the cells of a convent renowned for the piety of itsinmates and the wholesome austerity of its laws that a young novice satalone. The narrow casement was placed so high in the cold grey wall asto forbid to the tenant of the cell the solace of sad or the distractionof pious thoughts, which a view of the world without might afford.Lovely, indeed, was the landscape that spread below; but it was barredfrom those youthful and melancholy eyes: for Nature might tempt to athousand thoughts, not of a tenor calculated to reconcile the heart toan eternal sacrifice of the sweet human ties. But a faint and partialgleam of sunshine broke through the aperture and made yet more cheerlessthe dreary aspect and gloomy appurtenances of the cell. And the youngnovice seemed to carry on within herself that struggle of emotionswithout which there is no victory in the resolves of virtue: sometimesshe wept bitterly, but with a low, subdued sorrow, which spoke rather ofdespondency than passion; sometimes she raised her head from her breast,and smiled as she looked upward, or as her eyes rested on the crucifixand the death's head that were placed on the rude table by the palleton which she sat. They were emblems of death here, and life hereafter,which, perhaps, afforded to her the sources of a twofold consolation.
She was yet musing, when a slight tap at the door was heard, and theabbess of the convent appeared.
"Daughter," said she, "I have brought thee the comfort of a sacredvisitor. The Queen of Spain, whose pious tenderness is maternallyanxious for thy full contentment with thy lot, has sent hither a holyfriar, whom she deems more soothing in his counsels than our brotherTomas, whose ardent zeal often terrifies those whom his honest spiritonly desires to purify and guide. I will leave him with thee. Maythe saints bless his ministry!" So saying the abbess retired from thethreshold, making way for a form in the garb of a monk, with the hooddrawn over the face. The monk bowed his head meekly, advanced into thecell, closed the door, and seated himself, on a stool--which, save thetable and the pallet, seemed the sole furniture of the dismal chamber.
"Daughter," said he, after a pause, "it is a rugged and a mournfullot this renunciation of earth and all its fair destinies and softaffections, to one not wholly prepared and armed for the sacrifice.Confide in me, my child; I am no dire inquisitor, seeking to distortthy words to thine own peril. I am no bitter and morose ascetic. Beneaththese robes still beats a human heart that can sympathise with humansorrows. Confide in me without fear. Dost thou not dread the fate theywould force upon thee? Dost thou not shrink back? Wouldst thou not befree?"
"No," said the poor novice; but the denial came faint and irresolutefrom her lips.
"Pause," said the friar, growing more earnest in his tone: "pause--thereis yet time."
"Nay," said the novice, looking up with some surprise in hercountenance; "nay, even were I so weak, escape now is impossible. Whathand could unbar the gates of the convent?"
"Mine!" cried the monk, with impetuosity. "Yes, I have that power. Inall Spain, but one man can save thee, and I am he."
"You!" faltered the novice, gazing at her strange visitor with mingledastonishment and alarm. "And who are you that could resist the fiat ofthat Tomas de Torquemada, before whom, they tell me, even the crownedheads of Castile and Arragon veil low?"
The monk half rose, with an impatient and almost haughty start, atthis interrogatory; but, reseating himself, replied, in a deep andhalf-whispered voice "Daughter, listen to me! It is true, that Isabel ofSpain (whom the Mother of Mercy bless! for merciful to all is her secretheart, if not her outward policy)--it is true that Isabel of Spain,fearful that the path to Heaven might be made rougher to thy feet thanit well need be (there was a slight accent of irony in the monk's voiceas he thus spoke), selected a friar of suasive eloquence and gentlemanners to visit thee. He was charged with letters to yon abbess fromthe queen. Soft though the friar, he was yet a hypocrite. Nay, hear meout! he loved to worship the rising sun; and he did not wish always toremain a simple friar, while the Church had higher dignities of thisearth to bestow. In the Christian camp, daughter, there was one whoburned for tidings of thee,--whom thine image haunted--who, stern asthou wert to him, loved thee with a love he knew not of, till thouwert lost to him. Why dost thou tremble, daughter? listen, yet! To thatlover, for he was one of high birth, came the monk; to that lover themonk sold his mission. The monk will have a ready tale, that he waswaylaid amidst the mountains by armed men, and robbed of his lettersto the abbess. The lover took his garb, and he took the letters; and hehastened hither. Leila! beloved Leila! behold him at thy feet!"
The monk raised his cowl; and, dropping on his knee beside her,presented to her gaze the features of the Prince of Spain.
"You!" said Leila, averting her countenance, and vainly endeavouring toextricate the hand which he had seized. "This is indeed cruel. You, theauthor of so many sufferings--such calumny--such reproach!"
"I will repair all," said Don Juan, fervently. "I alone, I repeat it,have the power to set you free. You are no longer a Jewess; you are oneof our faith; there is now no bar upon our loves. Imperious though myfather,--all dark and dread as is this new POWER which he is rashlyerecting in his dominions, the heir of two monarchies is not so poor ininfluence and in friends as to be unable to offer the woman of his lovean inviolable shelter alike from priest and despot. Fly with me!--quitthis dreary sepulchre ere the last stone close over thee for ever! Ihave horses, I have guards at hand. This night it can be arranged. Thisnight--oh, bliss!--thou mayest be rendered up to earth and love!"
"Prince," said Leila, who had drawn herself from Juan's grasp duringthis address, and who now stood at a little distance erect and proud,"you tempt me in vain; or, rather you offer me no temptation. I havemade my choice; I abide by it."
"Oh! bethink thee," said the prince, in a voice of real and imploringanguish; "bethink thee well of the consequences of thy refusal. Thoucanst not see them yet; thine ardour blinds thee. But, when hourafter hour, day after day, year after year, steals on in theappalling monotony of this sanctified prison; when thou shalt see thyyouth--withering without love--thine age without honour; when thy heartshall grow as stone within thee, beneath the looks of you icy spectres;when nothing shall vary the aching dulness of wasted life save a longerfast or a severer penance: then, then will thy grief be rendered tenfoldby the despairing and remorseful thought, that thine own lips sealedthine own sentence. Thou mayest think," continued Juan, with rapideagerness, "that my love to thee was at first light and dishonouring. Beit so. I own that my youth has passed in idle wooings, and the mockeriesof affection. But for the first time in my life I feel that--I love. Thydark eyes--thy noble beauty--even thy womanly scorn, have fascinated me.I--never yet disdained where I have been a suitor--acknowledge, at last,that there is a triumph in the conquest of a woman's heart. Oh, Leila!do not--do not reject me. You know not how rare and how deep a love youcast away."
The novice was touched: the present language of Don Juan was sodifferent from what it had been before; the earnest love that breathedin his voice--that looked from his eyes, struck a chord in her breast;it reminded her of her own unconquered, unconquerable love for the lostMuza. She was touched, then--touched to tears; but her resolves were notshaken.
"Oh, Leila!" resumed the prince, fondly, mistaking the nature of heremotion, and seeking to pursue the advantage he imagined he had gained,"look at yonder sunbeam, struggling through the loophole of thy cell. Isit not a messenger from the happy world? does it not plead for me? doesit not whisper to thee of the green fields and the laughing vineyards,and all the beautiful prodigality of that earth thou art about torenounce for ever? Dost thou dread my love? Are the forms around thee,ascetic and lifeless, fairer to thine eyes than mine? Dost thou doubtmy power to protect thee? I tell thee that the proudest nobles of Spainwould flock around my banner, were it necessary to guard thee by forceof arms. Yet, speak the word--be mine--and I will fly hence with theeto climes where the Church has not cast out its deadly roots, and,forgetful of crowns and cares, live alone for thee
: Ah, speak!"
"My lord," said Leila, calmly, and rousing herself to the necessaryeffort, "I am deeply and sincerely grateful for the interest youexpress--for the affection you avow. But you deceive yourself. I havepondered well over the alternative I have taken. I do not regret norrepent--much less would I retract it. The earth that you speak of, fullof affections and of bliss to others, has no ties, no allurements forme. I desire only peace, repose, and an early death."
"Can it be possible," said the prince, growing pale, "that thou lovestanother? Then, indeed, and then only, would my wooing be in vain."
The cheek of the novice grew deeply flushed, but the color soonsubsided; she murmured to herself, "Why should I blush to own it now?"and then spoke aloud: "Prince, I trust I have done with the world; andbitter the pang I feel when you call me back to it. But you merit mycandour; I have loved another; and in that thought, as in an urn, liethe ashes of all affection. That other is of a different faith. We maynever--never meet again below, but it is a solace to pray that we maymeet above. That solace, and these cloisters, are dearer to me than allthe pomp, all the pleasures, of the world."
The prince sank down, and, covering his face with his hands, groanedaloud--but made no reply.
"Go, then, Prince of Spain," continued the novice; "son of the nobleIsabel, Leila is not unworthy of her cares. Go, and pursue the greatdestinies that await you. And if you forgive--if you still cherish athought of--the poor Jewish maiden, soften, alleviate, mitigate,the wretched and desperate doom that awaits the fallen race she hasabandoned for thy creed."
"Alas, alas!" said the prince, mournfully; "thee alone, perchance, ofall thy race, I could have saved from the bigotry that is fast coveringthis knightly land like the rising of an irresistible sea--and thourejectest me! Take time, at least, to pause--to consider. Let me seethee again tomorrow."
"No, prince, no--not again! I will keep thy secret only if I see thee nomore. If thou persist in a suit that I feel to be that of sin and shame,then, indeed, mine honour--"
"Hold!" interrupted Juan, with haughty impatience, "I torment, I harassyou no more. I release you from my importunity. Perhaps already Ihave stooped too low." He drew the cowl over his features, and strodesullenly to the door; but, turning for one last gaze on the form thathad so strangely fascinated a heart capable of generous emotions, themeek and despondent posture of the novice, her tender youth, hergloomy fate, melted his momentary pride and resentment. "God bless andreconcile thee, poor child!" he said, in a voice choked with contendingpassions--and the door closed upon his form.
"I thank thee, Heaven, that it was not Muza!" muttered Leila, breakingfrom a reverie in which she seemed to be communing with her own soul:"I feel that I could not have resisted him." With that thought she kneltdown, in humble and penitent self-reproach, and prayed for strength.
Ere she had risen from her supplications, her solitude was again invadedby Torquemada, the Dominican.
This strange man, though the author of cruelties at which naturerecoils, had some veins of warm and gentle feeling streaking, as itwere, the marble of his hard character; and when he had thoroughlyconvinced himself of the pure and earnest zeal of the young convert, herelaxed from the grim sternness he had at first exhibited towards her.He loved to exert the eloquence he possessed, in raising her spirit,in reconciling her doubts. He prayed for her, and he prayed beside her,with passion and with tears.
He stayed long with the novice; and, when he left her, she was, ifnot happy, at least contented. Her warmest wish now was to abridge theperiod of her novitiate, which, at her desire, the Church had alreadyrendered merely a nominal probation. She longed to put irresolutionout of her power, and to enter at once upon the narrow road through thestrait gate.
The gentle and modest piety of the young novice touched the sisterhood;she was endeared to all of them. Her conversion was an event that brokethe lethargy of their stagnant life. She became an object of generalinterest, of avowed pride, of kindly compassion; and their kindness toher, who from her cradle had seen little of her own sex, had a greateffect towards calming and soothing her mind. But, at night, her dreamsbrought before her the dark and menacing countenance of her father.Sometimes he seemed to pluck her from the gates of heaven, and to sinkwith her into the yawning abyss below. Sometimes she saw him with herbeside the altar, but imploring her to forswear the Saviour, beforewhose crucifix she knelt. Occasionally her visions were haunted, also,with Muza--but in less terrible guise She saw his calm and melancholyeyes fixed upon her; and his voice asked, "Canst thou take a vow thatmakes it sinful to remember me?"
The night, that usually brings balm and oblivion to the sad, was thusmade more dreadful to Leila than the day.
Her health grew feebler, and feebler, but her mind still was firm. Inhappier time and circumstance that poor novice would have been a greatcharacter; but she was one of the countless victims the world knowsnot of, whose virtues are in silent motives, whose struggles are in thesolitary heart.
Of the prince she heard and saw no more. There were times when shefancied, from oblique and obscure hints, that the Dominican had beenaware of Don Juan's disguise and visit. But, if so, that knowledgeappeared only to increase the gentleness, almost the respect, whichTorquemada manifested towards her. Certainly, since that day, from somecause or other the priest's manner had been softened when he addressedher; and he who seldom had recourse to other arts than those of censureand of menace, often uttered sentiments half of pity and half of praise.
Thus consoled and supported in the day,--thus haunted and terrified bynight, but still not repenting her resolve, Leila saw the time glide onto that eventful day when her lips were to pronounce that irrevocablevow which is the epitaph of life. While in this obscure and remoteconvent progressed the history of an individual, we are summoned back towitness the crowning fate of an expiring dynasty.