The Spanish dancer : being a translation from the original French by Henry L. Williams of Don Caesar de Bazan (7 page)

The watchmen crept nearer and began to close in.

"See," said he, recognizing his old foes, with a merry nod, "I call upon you as witnesses that the cutpurses have carried away my purse—green silk with silver cord, woven for me by a pretty seamstress of the Santa Catha-rina quarter, and she would not accept a penny piece for it I My purse, my purse! Oh, frowning Fortune, cursed dame!" he sang, "and I had invited the aldermen of the Red Cross parish and the chief clerk of the corrector to supper at the Ca-stle-and-Lion on a baked pig-of-the-waters with a pasty of venison to follow, which venison came from a royal buck, killed, between ourselves, when the king was not hunting!"

"We will provide for your supper," said the lieutenant of the watch, advancing with the thought that this irrepressible jester would be wasted on "the ruck" when he might amuse them in the guard-room. "I offer you lodgings in the casa of the pubhc corrector!"

"Your old apartments!" added a waggish sergeant.

"Arrest me, the butt, the foil, the victim of this out*

rage!" cried tixt injured Don Caesar, clapping his hand noisily to his sword. "I, to be lodged where those night-butterflies are entitled to the first pick of beds! I, confounded with those Knights of the Moon; I, indubitably Knight of San Jago, of the Fleece, and the Sepulchre! Gentlemen of the Watch, hie you to recover my property, v/hich was taken by those highwaymen, and leave my presence!"

Two or three hands were held out to clutch his collar.

"Hold, did you not hear me—^^that the rogues had conveyed off my purse—now I know that I cannot slip through your fingers since I cannot grease the fist!"

The allusion to the guardians being corrupt filled their chief with indignation.

"My men," said he, in a hoarse voice, "bring that runagate along—his part is played, his song ended! I believe that he has given the quietus to one of those unfortunate fellows—see, he stirs not in the gutter!"

"Bah!" said Don Ceesar, "you ought to be better judge of a man in liquor! If he looks reddened, it is the splatter of wine—he broke a bottle of cherry brandy when I first smacked his chaps! Do you see," he went on to gain time, "that is a knave not to be pitied. An' illiterate dog, and from the alien regions, too. I believe he is Dutch! Centes, no clerk! for, when he sat at the board to throw the bones with me, he hailed me as a countryman of Sir Vantess. Shade of the romancero! Cervantes, to be knighted, only—^that should have been lifted to the peerage for his immortal novel! But this dullard, he no sooner heard I was a noble, than he asked me after the health of Don Quickshot! and Hanky Panky! Don Quixote and Sancho Pancho, thus transmogrified by a blundering Hollander! I wouid I had stabbed him for his ignorance, but you would say that I

beat him with my superior sword-play because he beat me at dice-play!"

"Enough prating!" said the acting-captain of the watch, '*bring the loiterer along at quick pace!"

By this time, the more daring of the beggarmen and the Bohemians had gathered in order to fall in a body upon the tlank of their enemies, and it seemed that Don Caesar would as easily escape the archers as he did the gamesters, but rather by assistance than by his single address.

"Hold!" broke in a voice not awaited, as the Marquis of Santarem, drawing back his cloak to show the badge of lieutenant-criminal, stepped up to the watchmen. "Let that man go. I myself saw most of the riot, and he was solely acting on self-defense. Drive home those spillings of the Jewry to swelter in their resorts and clear the square of saunterers, for it is too late for good men to be abroad."

As his agents also revealed their office and supported him in ordering the archers about, the chief of the watch sullenly obeyed.

Don Cssar, left untouched, hesitating between rejoining his companions, who allowed themselves to be hustled into the purlieus of the rear of the cathedral, or to thank this befriender, saw the latter beckon to him.

He pressed on his sword hilt, which threw up behind tiim the frayed cloak into a burlesque martial draping, and boldly came up to the nobleman.

Some charitable hands proceeded to help the fallen rascals to limp away; and, indeed, none of them were seriously hurt, with their toughened skins and skill in avoiding stabs.

"As you announced your degree," began Don Jose, "I

cannot be mistaken in addressing you, my lord, as Don Caesar de Bazan?"

"I am he."

"We are cousins, and we were in the class of theologji

at Salamanca, were we not?"

He tilted back his hat to show his face, at present irradiated with the inviting mien of one seeking an end by gentle means.

"Now, give me grace. It is Cousin Jose! Count '*

"I am the Marquis of Santarem. I suppose you have been out of sound of the court herald proclaiming* changes of rank?"

"Yes, I have been among the Turks! Not that 1 notice the difference in the manners here. You will overlook my disordered costume, for those light-fingered gentry did not touch me lightly!" i

"I suppose, coz, you were careless enough to drinfi with them. Well, no harm befalls the drunken !"

"I, drunk! Not in a hogshead of it, like that English prince drowned in Malmsey! If I am preserved while my hat is battered and my garments frayed, it is through the love of the angels (he saluted with his hat) for good men!"

Jose held out his hand. His old friend looked greedily at the ruff, it was of the costly Brabant lace with which he had affected to gird his own wrists. He sighed.

"Marquis, and so much of a grandee that the city watch bowed and allowed themselves to be called ofl their prey! Well, you have prospered!"

"And you? Still the same devil-may-care that had a good heart and a kind nature!"

"Ay—'a scholar is always in frolicsome mood!' as we sang at the university! And I am still a scholar, learning to—well, everything but drink—that came so «arlj that I believe I was cradeled in a puncheon 1"

"You are still young yet; you look not old, but jaded!"

"My old playfellow, the heart is a coin with youth oa one side and wisdom on the reverse! That applies to JX)U, Senor Gravity, for I am the coin stamped out and imperfectly smoothed on the recto, where, the Lord only knows what word will be implanted. 'Disinherited,' I guess!"

"You drink deep?''

*'To the dregs, and they are bitter "

**Fond of good living?"

"I have a marrow bone for my back tooth!"

"Not fond of dress?"

*^Poverty is a field of nettles—they card out one's fine linen and warm woolens! The scapegoat has a ragged vest! I am a free commoner now ! higher than a count— a king! And my kingdom is those airy pastures—the eirl the sweet, free air!"

"Is this all that is left of that noble name and princely fortune ?"

"The princely fortune has left—^the noble name is left —you look too much of the peacock making his wheel to require it to back a note, but it may serve you at a pinch!"

"No, I thank you," returned the marquis, proudly.

"I see you ride the high horse—now, I am chums with Poverty, and the poor have no shame!"

"I have reached up to great things—I had hoped that you would have secured the same, in some foreign land, where a good sword is valued to its utmost."

"I may not have done great things," replied Caesar, laughing, "but I have done great men—Florentine merchants. Lombard money-princes, usurers of all races! And if I have not reached great prizes, I have overreached those who enjoyed them. But all in honor! That Is v/hy I sleep between ease and honor, so rarely quiet bedfellows!"

"You may sleep in your own bed soon!" said Jose, fei<° vently, with feigned cordiality.

"It will have to be redeemed from the pawnbrokers!" "I thought that your sire left you a fortune!" "True! But when I returned from Algiers they had let me loose without a stitch on me—it took all to renew my wardrobe and linen, my clothes, and—throat!" "And my father paid all your debts once!" "He did, and I shall be glad if his son puts me under the like obligation ! I am frank, eh ?"

"Devilish too much so!" muttered the marquis. "The force of habit piled up fresh ones! They are not outlawed yet, unhappily 1"

"Two or three fortunes! You would bankrupt the treasury of Peru I This is paying dearly for your dance-music !"

"That depends on the kind of dance and the partners F "Humph!" and Jose frowned, recalling the measure paced before the queen by this saucy speaker and Mari-tana.

"But I am not singing psalms of despair! I am now clean as a splinter! Necessity is a better teacher than any of the greybeards at the university! When one's purse is swept out like a chimney, one bears its 'being whisked ofl without a whimper. Besides, if a robber borrowed it, I may win it back, filled anew, over the card board. Not having money, I am not teased by poor relatives, which freedom you will appreciate unless you have changed your character, being—you will excuse me!—rather curmudgeonly ! I have not an acre, so I have no grumbling tenantry to face when I stroll through the country, I have no laid-down road, so that I never swear at taking a ■wrong turning. All my paths, while with the gypsies, lead to Roam!—ha! ha! I have nothing to take care of

but my sword. The scabbard is out at elbows, like its master, but the sight of the sharp steel peeping through gaves me from molestation as the spirit of a gentleman peepmg out of a ragged coat saves him from insult!"

During his levity, the more serious noble had been studying his unfortunate kinsman,

"You were out of Spain once—you are tlie type of the Corsair who becomes admiral of the free-seamen! Why did you return ?"

"Madrid lured me!" responded the rover with unexpected pathos—"the Manzaneres, where there is still enough water to wash one's shirt and still enough sunshine to dry it. Madrid lured me with the hope that whenever I should re-enter its hallowed walls I might find no remembrances "

"Of your follies?"

"Fie, moralist!—of my creditors! But I was out! They are still in ! Creditors die, but have heirs; their bills are like the ravens—^more and more sharp, and numerous! Christian and heathen graces, they still remain three; but credit is numberless! My creditors multiply like the blessed, and my interest increases on their paper! The children have grown up to look forward to my return home as for the fabulous wealthy uncle from the golden Americas."

"Perfectly penniless, eh?" and Jose rubbed his hands covertly.

"The only perfection I can boast!"

"That is sad! for Madrid is a city of pleasure—^very expensive!"

"One can still fuddle at the cost of those whom one fuddled when he had means!"

"Wine will be more dear—the city has doubled the cess at the gates!"

"I can gamble for farthing stakes "

"There is a fresh edict against petty gaming!"

"Ah, you should know, for the police as well as the watch obeyed you, and let you balk them of their prey as if you were Keeper of the Lions and could rob them of their bones!"

"I occupy a certain position, true—and that is why ] can assure you tippling, dicing, and even sauntering, are no longer healthy pursuits in the capital!"

"Well, you saw a specimen of what is diversion— ^the sport of kings on a small scale—fighting "

He proudly looked round upon the late battlefield.

"Why, my poor friend, fortune is dead counter to yoa there."

"You do not say so! In what way? Fighting is bora with man. To draw the sword comes as naturally to a gentleman as drawing breath."

"Yes; but, you pagan, you would not know among those gypsies, without law or religion, that Carnival week commences this very day; and the Royal Council are going to issue a proclamation that death shall be the penalty of crossing swords."

"Now, then, by St. Andrew's cross! this goes beyond endurance! Would our king ruin the swordsmiths? Death for not being killed in a duel! How the logical must laugh at that argument! The first monarch was a successful soldier, says the sage whom we were bored with at the college! And how the royals have degenerated to issue such a stupid pronunciamento! No duels! Is one to throw away money on the professional blood-letters? Unless I am bled regularly I should run amuck -—like the Malays—and trace a bloody swath in the first concourse of Madrid!"

"Oh, you must restrain your arm for seven days— just

a littk week while you fast, to cool your blood. You will •have the rest of the year to practice homicide."

"A sennight! This is hard for one. The Church bids me fast and make my blood thin and cold! The State bids me control my hot temper, with which I might be comfortable! I must not draw wine or the sword! Well, if you are one of the king's council who give him thia counsel, I do not congratulate you! By the way, you have not defined yourself. Marquis, I know; but are you of the State Council ?"

"I ? I am the last of whom the king would ask counsel in his affairs—of the heart! I am nobody !"

"We are at evens! But I doubt," thought Caesar, du>. biously, "a. man who can call off the hounds of the police ■—he is a great potentate and worth truckling to, if I were a truckler. Bah! I want nothing of anybody—that is, for poor me ! But—ah ! that girl!—Maritana, who Jongs for freedom from the gypsies, from her gilded trappings under which she capers for the pence of the vulgar and the gold of the upstarts. Now, if I could induce my cousin to assist her in her commendable desire to arise!"

"Well," said Don Jos6, unable to suppress his jeer, although he might require this sword, if not this head, "plunge your blade and your poll, to cool them, in the (fountain—the municipality is generous of the ice-spring!"

He pointed laughingly to the public basin, a relic of the Moorish rule and providence; a massive group of Oriental lions spouted the clear liquid from their gaping mouths and lashed the pool with their tufted tails.

"With no dwelling, I might as well drown myself! Oh, for the week to be slept ofif in one nap, and a good, stout quarreler to beard me!" cried Don Czesar, mock-bigly, as he joined his hands in this warlike prayer.

His fellow-student looked at him narrowly as he leaned on the marble circle and was reflected in the surface, the image of despair.