1492

by Mary Johnston

  CHAPTER V

  SOME days went by. The King and the Queen with the court and a greattrain of prelates and grandees and knights rode in state throughGranada. Don Enrique, returning, told me of it in his room at night, ofthe Christian service in the mosque and the throning in the Alhambra.

  "Now," he said, "after great affairs, our affairs! I have had speechwith the Marchioness of Moya."

  "That is the Queen's friend?"

  "Yes. Dona Beatrix de Boabdilla. We stood together by a fountain,and when she said, 'What can I do for you?' I answered, 'There issomething.' Then while all went in pageantry before us, I told her ofthe hermitage in the oak wood and of the unhappy small tower, and of youand me and those others, and what was done that day. Don Jayme, I toldit like a minstrel who believes what he sings! And then I spoke ofto-day. She is no puny soul, nor is she in priest's grip. She acts fromher own vision, not from that of another. The Queen is no weak souleither! She also has vision, but too often she lets the churchmen takeher vision from her. But Dona Beatrix is stronger there. Well, shepromises help if we can show her how to help."

  I said, "I have been thinking. It seems to me that it was wrong to comehere and put my weight upon you."

  "No!" he answered. "Did we not swear then, when we were young men? Andwe needed no oaths neither. Let such thoughts be.--I am going to thepalace to-morrow, and you with me. The King and the Queen ride witha great train into Granada. But Dona Beatrix will excuse herself fromgoing. The palace will be almost empty, and we shall find her in thelittle gallery above the Queen's garden."

  The next morning we went there, Don Enrique de Cerda and his squire,Juan Lepe. The palace rose great and goodly enough, with the church athand. All had been built as by magic, silken pavilions flying away andstout houses settling themselves down. Sunk among the walls had beenmanaged a small garden for the Queen and her ladies. A narrow, latticedand roofed gallery built without the Queen's rooms looked down uponorange and myrtle trees and a fountain. Here we found the Marchioness deMoya, with her two waiting damsels whom she set by the gallery door. DonEnrique kissed her hand and then motioned to me. Don Jayme de Marchenamade his reverence.

  She was a strong woman who would go directly to the heart of things.Always she would learn from the man himself. She asked me this and Ianswered; that and the other and I answered. "Don Pedro--?" I told theenmity there and the reason for it. "The Jewish rabbi, my great-grandfather?" I avowed it, but by three Castilian and Christiangreat-grandfathers could not be counted as Jew! Practise Judaism? No. Mygrandmother Judith had been Christian.

  She drove to the heart of it. "You yourself are Christian. What do youmean by that? What the Queen means? What the Grand Cardinal and theArchbishop of Granada means? What the Holy Office means?"

  I kept silence for a moment, then I told her as well as I might, withoutfever and without melancholy, what I had written and of the Dominican.

  "You have been," she said, "an imprudent cavalier."

  The fountain flashed below us, a gray dove flew over garden. I said,"There is a text, 'With all thy getting, get understanding.' Thereis another, 'For God so loved the world'--that He wished to impartunderstanding."

  She sat quiet, seeming to listen to the fountain. Then she said, "Areyou ready to avow when they ask you that in every particular to whichthe Grand Inquisitor may point you are wrong, and that all that HolyChurch through mouth of Holy Office says is right?"

  I said, "No, Madam! Present Church is not as large as Truth, nor as fairas Beauty."

  "You may think that, but will you say the other?"

  "Say that church or kingdom exactly matches Truth and Beauty?"

  "That is what I am sure you will have to say."

  "Then, no!"

  "I do not see," she said, "that I can do anything for you."

  There was a chair beside her. She sat down, her chin on her hand and hereyes lowered. Silence held save for the fountain plashing. Don Enriquestood by the railing, and Jayme de Marchena felt his concern. But hehimself walked just then--Don Jayme or Juan Lepe--into long patience,into greater steadfastness. Into the inner fields came translucence,gold light; came and faded, but left strength.

  Dona Beatrix raised her eyes and let them dwell upon me. "Spain breedsbold knights," she said, "but not so many after all who are bold within!Not so many, I think, as are found in Italy or in France." She paused amoment, looking at the sky above the roofs, then came back to me. "It ishopeless, and you must see it, to talk in those terms to the only powersthat can lead the Holy Office to forget that you live! It is hopelessto talk to the Queen, telling her that. She would hold that she hadentertained heresy, and her imagination would not let her alone. I seenaught in this world for you to do but to go out of it into another!There are other lands--"

  A damsel hurried to her from the door. "There's a stir below, Madam!Something has brought the Queen home earlier than we thought--"

  The Marchioness de Moya rose. Don Enrique kissed her hand, and Jayme deMarchena kissed it and thanked her. "I would help if I could!" she said."But in Spain to-day it is deadly dangerous to talk or write as thoughthere were freedom!"

  She passed from the gallery, Don Enrique and I following. We came upona landing with a great stair before us. Quick as had been her maidens,they were not quick enough. Many folk were coming up the broad steps.Dona Beatrix glanced, then opened a door giving into a great room,apparently empty. She pointed to an opposite door. "The little stair!Go that way!" Don Enrique nodded comprehension. We were in the room; thedoor closed.

  At first it seemed an empty great chamber. Then from behind a square ofstretched cloth came a man's head, followed by the figure pertaining toit. The full man was clad after a rich fancy and he held in his hand abrush and looked at us at first dreamily and then with keenness.

  He knew me, differently arrayed though I was, and looked from me to DonEnrique. "Master Manuel Rodriguez," said the latter, "I would stop forgood talk and to admire the Queen's likeness, but duty calls me out ofpalace! Adios!" He made toward the door across from that by which we hadentered. The painter spoke after us. "That door is bolted, Don Enrique,on the other side. I do not know why! It is not usually so."

  Don Enrique, turning, hurried to the first door and very slightly openedit. A humming entered the large, quiet room. He closed the door. "TheQueen is coming up the great stair. The Archbishop of Granada is withher and a whole train beside!" He spoke to the painter. "I have noaudience, and for reasons would not choose this moment as one in whichto encounter the least disfavor! I will stay here before your pictureand admire until landing and stairways are bare."

  "If to be invisible is your desire," answered Manuel Rodriguez, "youhave walked into trouble! The Queen is coming here."

  Don Enrique exclaimed. Juan Lepe turned eyes to the painter. The blueeyes met mine--there rose the rushy pool, there dozed the broken boat.Manuel Rodriguez spoke in his voice that was at once cool and fine anddry and warm. "It is best to dare thoroughly! Perhaps I may help you--asthus! Wishing to speak with Don Enrique of an altar painting for theChurch of Saint Dominic, I asked him here and he came. We talked, andhe will give the picture. Then, hearing the Queen's approach, he wouldinstantly have been gone, but alack, the small door is barred!--As forfisherman yonder, few look at squire when knight is in presence!"

  No time to debate his offer, which indeed was both wise and kind!Chamberlains flung open the door. In came the Queen, with her thePrincess Juana and several of her ladies. Beside her walked Fernando deTalavera, Her Highness's confessor, yesterday Bishop of Avila but nowArchbishop of Granada. Behind him moved two lesser ecclesiastics, andwith these Don Alonzo de Quintanella, Comptroller-General of Castile.Others followed, nobles and cavaliers, two soberly clad men who lookedlike secretaries, a Franciscan friar, three or four pages. The room waslarge and had a table covered with a rich cloth, two great chairs and afew lesser ones.

  The painter and Don Enrique bent low to the Majesty of Castile. In thebackground Juan Lepe made squire's o
beisance. I was bearded and my facestained with a Moorish stain, and I was in shadow; it was idle to fearrecognition that might never come. The Queen seated herself, and herdaughter beside her, and with her good smile motioned the Archbishop toa chair. The two ecclesiastics, both venerable men, were given seats.The rest of the company stood. The Queen's blue eyes rested on DonEnrique. She spoke in a clear, mild voice, threaded with dignity. "Wereyou summoned thither, Don Enrique de Cerda?"

  He answered, "No, Highness! I came to the palace to seek Master ManuelRodriguez who is to paint for me an altarpiece for the Church of SaintDominic. You and the King, Madam, I thought were in Granada. Not findinghim in his own lodging, I made bold to come here. Then at once, before Icould hasten away, you returned!"

  The true nature of this Queen was to think no evil. Her countenanceremained mild. He had done valiant service, and she was sisterly-mindedtoward the greater part of the world. Now she said with serenity, "Thereis no fault, Don Enrique. Stay with us now that you are here."

  Bowing deeply, he joined a brother-in-arms, Don Miguel de Silva. Hissquire stood in the shadow behind him, but found a chance-left lane ofvision down which much might be seen.

  The Queen composed herself, in her chair. "This is the position, MasterManuel?" The fair man, so fine and quick that I loved to look at him,bowed and stepped back to his canvas, where he took up his brush andfell to work. The Queen and the Archbishop began to speak earnestlytogether. Words and sentences floated to Juan Lepe standing by thearras. The Queen made thoughtful pauses, looking before her with steadyblue eyes and a somewhat lifted face. I noted that when she did thisManuel Rodriguez painted fast.

  There fell a pause in their talk. Something differing from the subjectof discourse, whatever in its fullness that might be, seemed to comeinto her mind. She sent her glance across the room.

  "Don Enrique de Cerda--"

  The tone summoned. When he was before her, "It was in my mind," said theQueen, "to send for you within a day or two. But now you are here, andthis moment while we await the King is as good as another. We have hadletters from the Bishop of Seville whom we reverence, and from Don PedroEnriquez to whom we owe much. They have to do with Jayme de Marchena whohas long been suspect by the Holy Office. He has fled Seville, gone noneknow where! Don Pedro informs us, Don Enrique, that years ago this manstood among your friends. He does not think it probable that this is yetso--nor do I, Don Enrique, knowing that you must hold in abhorrencethe heretic!" She looked mildly upon him. "In youth we make chancefriendships thick as May, but manhood weeds the garden! And yet we thinkit possible that this man may in his heart trade on old things and makehis way to you or send you appeal." She paused, then said in a quietvoice, "Should that happen, Don Enrique, on your allegiance, and as agood Christian, you will do all that you can to put him in the hands ofthe Holy Office."

  She waited with her blue eyes upon him. He said, and said quietly, "Itwas long ago, Madam, when I was a young man and careless. I will do allthat lies in me to do. But Spain is wide and there are ships to Africaand other shores."

  She said, "Yes, I do not see such an one daring to come to Santa Fe! Butthey say that ten demons possess a heretic, and that he crosses streamsupon a hair or walks edges of high walls."

  With her ringed hand she made gesture of dismissal. He bowed low andstepped back to his former place.

  The sun flooded in at window. Manuel Rodriguez painted steadily. TheQueen sat still, with lifted face and eyes strained into distance. Shesighed and came back from wastes where she would be Christian, oh, whereshe would be Christian! and began with a tender, maternal look to talkwith her daughter.